In the mystical world of Avalon, where towering mountains whispered ancient secrets and forests teemed with creatures of old magic, the village of Lorian nestled quietly under the protective shadow of the great Avalon tree tree. Today, the village was alive with an electric buzz, as it was the day of the Ceremony of Fate, a rite of passage for those who reached their sixteenth year.

 Lucian stood apart from the bustling crowd, his silver eyes tracing the golden decorations strung across the market square. The air was thick with the scent of honey cakes and the spicy tang of Fire leaf stew, but Lucian's mind was elsewhere, lost in a cloud of anxiety and anticipation.

 "Lucian! Over here!" called a gentle voice. He turned to see his mother, Mara, waving him over, her smile a warm beacon in the cool morning air. Despite his nerves, Lucian managed a small smile and made his way to her side.

"You needn't look so grim, my son," Mara chuckled, smoothing a wrinkle from his ceremonial robe. "Whatever class you receive today, know that you are meant for great things."

Lucian nodded, though the knot in his stomach tightened. The Ceremony of Fate was not just any tradition; it was the moment when the Essence of Avalon, the magical force that bound the world, bestowed upon each person their magical class. It determined one's role in society, their future career, and in many ways, their identity.

The ceremony began with the village elder, a wise old man named Eldrin, calling the participants one by one to the center of the square, where stood the ancient Stone of Destiny. Each teen would place their hand upon the stone, and moments later, their class would be announced, glowing in ethereal script above their head.

One by one, Lucian watched his peers receive their classes. "Warrior," "Healer," "Beast Tamer" - each announcement was met with cheers and applause. But as Lucian's turn approached, a palpable tension filled the air.

"Lucian of Avalon," Eldrin's voice rang out. Heart pounding, Lucian stepped forward, feeling every eye upon him as he laid his hand upon the cold, smooth surface of the Stone of Destiny.

The stone glowed a deep, pulsating red, and the air seemed to grow heavy. A long moment passed, one that felt like an eternity to Lucian. Then, in a burst of dark light, the words appeared above him, clear and ominous:

Demon Lord

A stunned silence fell over the square. "Demon Lord?" someone whispered, fear tingeing their voice. It was a class shrouded in darkness and controversy, spoken of only in hushed tones. Known for their immense power, Demon Lords were both feared and revered, but mostly, they were seen as omens of change and often, destruction.

Lucian's heart sank as the whispers grew louder, turning into shouts of alarm. He looked at his mother, whose face had gone pale, her earlier smile replaced by a look of horror.

"Eldrin," Mara's voice shook as she addressed the elder. "There must be some mistake—"

But Eldrin shook his head solemnly. "The Stone does not err. The path of destiny is often fraught with shadows, Lucian, but fear not," he said, though his eyes were filled with a mix of pity and fear. "For even in darkness, there is light to be found."

As the crowd began to disperse, some casting fearful glances his way, others avoiding his gaze entirely, Lucian felt a chill that had nothing to do with the breeze sweeping through Lorian. His life, as he had known it, was over.