The library was silent, save for the faint rustle of pages as I closed the ancient tome in front of me. The golden script on the leather cover gleamed faintly in the candlelight: The Era of Gods.
It was the third book I'd devoured this week. Each one held fragments of the time the Great Spirit had spoken of—a world ruled by mortals who rose to divinity through ambition and power, a world where gods were no more than humans who had clawed their way to the heavens.
Her story had haunted me every night since our meeting. To stand before such a powerful being and live was a miracle in itself. But the real gift wasn't surviving—it was what she had given me.
I turned to the mirror on the library wall, leaning closer to inspect my reflection. My eyes had changed. Once dark and unremarkable, they now glowed faintly red, as if lit from within. If one looked closely, they would see faint runes etched into my irises, constantly shifting like a living script.
These were the eyes of [Analyze], the gift of the Great Spirit.
I focused on the mirror, letting the power activate. Instantly, information flooded my vision, faint lines of mana tracing every edge of the glass, detailing its structure, its age, even the impurities in its composition.
It wasn't just objects. When I'd tested it on the servants, I'd been able to see their height, weight, age, their talents, and even fragments of their thoughts if I focused long enough. The amount of information was staggering, and I was still learning to control the flow.
But the real revelation was seeing mana itself.
The glowing currents that threaded through every living thing and object were now visible to me, a network of power that I could study, manipulate, and, most importantly, learn from.
+
This newfound vision had helped me perfect a spell I'd been working on for weeks.
I stretched out a hand, letting mana pool in my palm. The air shimmered as a small orb of fire began to form, its surface glowing like the sun.
"[Sunlight]," I murmured, watching as the orb hovered above my hand.
It was my first true elemental spell, a combination of offense, defense, and utility. The orb burned with enough heat to incinerate flesh in an instant, but it could also block incoming projectiles or attacks, its autonomous nature allowing it to respond to threats without my direct control.
I moved my hand, and the orb floated in sync, illuminating the dark corners of the library. With a thought, it dimmed, then flared brightly again.
A satisfied smile tugged at my lips. [Sunlight] wasn't just a spell—it was proof of my growth.
+
The sound of approaching footsteps broke my concentration. I dispelled the orb, watching as its light faded into nothingness.
A servant appeared at the doorway, bowing stiffly. "Master Lloyd, your presence is requested in the lord's study."
I tensed immediately.
Father.
Just the thought of standing in the same room as him was enough to set my teeth on edge. But I nodded, rising from my seat and following the servant through the halls of the estate.
+
The study was as cold and unwelcoming as the man who occupied it. Shelves lined with books on politics and warfare loomed over a heavy oak desk, behind which sat Lord Harland Lionheart, my father. His expression was as severe as ever, his sharp features etched with disdain.
"Sit," he ordered without looking up from the papers in front of him.
I sat.
After a long, uncomfortable silence, he finally looked up, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.
"In two years," he began, his tone clipped, "you, Damien, and Ariana will attend the Havard Academy."
I blinked, caught off guard. Havard Academy was a renowned institution, a place where the best and brightest honed their talents under the guidance of elite instructors. It was also the last place I wanted to be.
"Why me?" I asked cautiously.
He frowned, as if the question itself was offensive. "Ariana insisted," he said, his voice laced with annoyance. "The invitation was extended to her and Damien, as expected, but she refused to attend unless you were included."
I felt a pang of guilt. Ariana's kindness, while endearing, had a way of complicating things.
"You will not travel with the family," Father continued, his tone turning colder. "You will be in a separate carriage. Your name will not be listed on the academy roster as Lionheart. It is shameful enough that you are to attend."
My jaw tightened, but I kept my expression neutral. "Understood."
"Do not embarrass this family," he snapped, dismissing me with a wave of his hand.
I stood, leaving the study with a knot of frustration in my chest.
+
Back in my room, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the flickering candle on the nightstand.
Two years. That was all the time I had left before my plans were derailed.
For years, I'd been preparing to leave the estate the moment I turned eighteen. With my magic and the progress I'd made on [Second Heart], I was close to achieving the strength I needed to survive on my own. Crestfall Academy wasn't part of the plan.
But then I thought of Ariana.
Her insistence on including me, her unwavering faith in my potential, and her promise to protect me once she was older—it was all too much to ignore.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I guess I can delay my plans a little longer," I muttered.
The flickering candlelight reflected off the faint runes in my eyes as I made my decision.
"Two years," I whispered to myself. "I can manage two more years for her."