Cecelia Noah, née Bourbon, carries an air of composed elegance that instantly commands attention. Her pale skin, porcelain-like, contrasts beautifully with her piercing blue eyes, which hold a cold, calculating glint beneath the warmth she feigns for appearances.
Her long raven hair, sleek and straight, falls in dark waves down her back, framing her face with an intensity that complements her sharp features. Choppy bangs give her an air of modern sophistication, softened only by a single striking detail: a black serpent hairpiece nestled on the left side of her head, a subtle yet potent symbol of her heritage and ambition.
Though she appears to be in her early thirties, Cecelia's appearance is carefully crafted; her mastery of magic and meticulous self-care have preserved her youth in a way that is almost unsettling.
She dresses in refined, high-collared attire, always in dark or muted shades that reflect her reserved personality and unyielding disposition. Cecelia's demeanor is a blend of aristocratic grace and a shrewd, underlying ambition—a true embodiment of her noble lineage and the ambitions she harbors for the Noah family legacy.
Cecelia paced her study, restless thoughts twisting in her mind. She had spent years crafting a vision of her family as the perfect picture of magical prestige, centered on Adrian, the chosen one.
Ever since she learned of Liam's existence, the child her husband convinced to let nature run its course, her plans had taken a frustrating detour. But she was certain she could bring Liam back into the fold, if only to secure Adrian's inheritance.
"Why hasn't he reached out?"
She murmured, half to herself. Her fingers tapped a steady rhythm on her desk, eyes narrowing. She couldn't understand why he hadn't returned. In her mind, losing his adopted parents should have made Liam desperate for family comfort, she'd expected him to come to her immediately, and eager to claim his place in the Noah household.
"After all."
She reminded herself.
"Who could comfort him better than his real mother?"
That was why she'd arranged everything: the orientation, the family reunion, the carefully planned news reveal. She had even prepared the perfect speech for him to give, a few words to show gratitude and acceptance, to unify him with the Noah name and, eventually, with his brother.
But with no word from him all week, Cecelia couldn't help but feel a hint of irritation creeping beneath her motherly concern.
"Perhaps he was still in shock, grieving on his own. That has to be it."
She told herself, with a soft, exasperated sigh.
"He's probably just processing everything alone."
Tomorrow, she reassured herself, she would see him at the ferry, and everything would finally fall into place.
"Adrian will do the rest."
She thought, her lips curving into a subtle smile. With an entire year together at the Founding Fathers Academy, her two sons would finally bond, and Adrian, with his charm and influence, would draw Liam back into the fold.
Cecelia had faith that Adrian, with his natural charisma and the Noah legacy behind him, would become the perfect heir. 'The chosen one', she thought, pride swelling in her chest, is the rightful heir of the Noah House.
She didn't doubt that seeing Adrian's apparent success, the attention, and the prestige would push Liam to sign the papers that would make Adrian the rightful heir. After all, if Adrian was the chosen one, he was clearly meant to lead.
With a sigh, Cecelia reassured herself.
"No matter. I'll see him tomorrow on the ferry, and he'll understand everything."
Her lips curved into a practiced, warm smile, a mask of the doting mother she intended to display.
"just a little charm."
She thought.
"And a gentle nudge about the importance of family."
As she envisioned her plan unfolding perfectly, she imagined Liam's reaction when he saw Adrian surrounded by friends, teachers, and reporters. He would feel the weight of legacy, the desire to belong to a family so prominent, to be part of something bigger.
As she sat back at her desk, Cecelia's mind moved to the last piece of her plan: the documents. Once Liam was ready, she'd simply need to persuade him to sign over his inheritance rights to Adrian. Then, he would gladly claim and embrace his true role—supporting his little brother's journey to greatness.
It would be seamless; Adrian, with his destiny, was born for this role, while Liam—no matter how similar—was a shadow. Her lips pressed together as she imagined the headlines that would come. But first, she had to find a way to make him see that he wasn't just gaining a family but supporting a legacy.
But the next day, her plan unraveled before her eyes.
As the ferry set off, Cecelia felt the first hints of unease. Reporters whispered to each other, glancing around as they asked the same question that buzzed in her own mind. Where was Liam? They had been waiting, hoping for that dramatic moment when the two brothers would finally meet.
The image she had wanted on the front page—the Noah family welcoming their long-lost son—was slipping through her fingers. A hollow knot of disappointment tightened in her stomach.
Hours later, as she read the article, she felt her carefully constructed image cracking. The piece celebrated Adrian's arrival and highlighted the strength of the Noah family, but there was no mention of Liam. Instead, the headline blared, "The Family of the Chosen One." Her attempts to draw attention to both boys had only made Adrian's spotlight brighter—and Liam's absence all the more conspicuous.
Cecelia stared at the paper, her mind racing. She had counted on Liam's presence to add weight to their story. Instead, his unexpected disappearance only highlighted that he was, in the public's eyes, still a mystery—a shadow in the Noah family's narrative.
And, as she realized, he had done it all simply by arriving early and taking a nap.
Liam entered the living room, which was in disarray, devices either taken or destroyed, yet he hardly noticed, his gaze fixed on the trail of blood leading to the kitchen. There, he first saw his mother, her eyes shut, her expression so serene that, were it not for her slit throat and her position on the floor, he might have believed she was merely sleeping. Beside her lay another figure, his father, appearing just as lifeless.
Liam sat upright, his breath catching as he tried to shake off the nightmare's grip. The familiar scene of his parents' bodies, haunting and heart-wrenching, clung to him like a fog.
He had been plagued by this same nightmare for three days, ever since he awoke from breaking into S-Rank. The issue with the Noah's still loomed over him. The day of the FFA orientation was marked by no mere coincidence; it was then that his name on the school roster was altered to Noah, and it was also when his adoptive parents met their untimely end in his absence.
A typical child might have sought solace in their presence, but he was far from typical, and he would not seek it.
He stared at the calm waters of New York's Harbor, feeling the steady motion of the ferry under him. The memory of his nightmare echoed in his mind, relentless and raw, as if to remind him of why he was here, of everything he had lost—and everything he needed to find.
An hour remained before the ferry tour would officially start, and the deck was mostly empty, save for a few scattered passengers absorbed in their own thoughts. Liam took the opportunity to center himself, reminding himself that the nightmare wasn't just a memory but a warning.
The Founding Fathers Academy was not just any school; it was a fortified island with only two points of entry, as the wards repelled all else. To enter, one had to use a gate crystal linked to the island's harbor or arrive by ship.
The reason for this was the surrounding waters of Governors Island, where the FFA was located, contained one of the largest underwater mermaid cities. The merfolk acted as a natural barrier protecting the school, sinking any ship not permitted entry and eating the survivors.
Liam balled his hands into fists, the pulse from his newly elevated S-Rank magical core offering an odd solace. The demanding pursuit to increase his magical core had exacted a steep price in recent days, yet it had granted him the strength crucial to withstand any challenge fate might present.
More than mere survival, he was determined to grasp his lineage. The sacrifice of his adoptive parents would not be in vain; he would utilize the Noah name as a weapon against his birth parents.
Liam hadn't meant to make a scene—or rather, avoid making one. All he wanted was to slip onto the ferry, keep his distance from the attention swirling around his younger brother, and start his life at the Founding Fathers Academy without being shackled by the legacy that surrounded Adrian.
Putting on a hat, arriving early, and slipping away to rest was supposed to keep things simple, discreet. Yet somehow, he'd managed to derail the carefully curated image the Noah family had painstakingly crafted.
In the harbor, the scene had played out in full theatrical form, with tearful goodbyes, supportive hugs, and the watchful, hungry lenses of the media capturing every moment. It was a setup for a grand reveal—Adrian, the chosen one, leaving for his grand journey, with his long-lost brother by his side.
Cecelia and her husband had wanted to make a splash, a touching family reunion that would dominate the news. But when the reporters realized the "missing brother" wasn't coming, the tone shifted. The Noahs were forced to smile through the mounting frustration, all too aware that their grand family portrait was crumbling with each passing second. Finally, they sent Adrian off alone.
Unaware of the chaos he'd sparked, Liam continued napping peacefully on the ferry, oblivious to how his simple absence shifted the headlines. Instead of a sensational reunion, the next day's papers spoke of Adrian's stoic, solitary journey, a fitting story for "The Family Of The Chosen One" but lacking the intended warmth and drama.
Cecelia fumed in silence as she scanned the articles, noting how Liam's absence made Adrian appear isolated rather than celebrated alongside his "beloved brother."
Ironically, by arriving early and quietly slipping into a nap, Liam had done what he'd hoped for—he'd slipped under the radar and unintentionally exposed the Noahs' ambition in their polished family façade.