The Eizhard estate sat in quiet solitude, surrounded by the towering woods of Embermere. Albian could hear the wind rustling through the leaves, the sound broken only by the distant howls of wolves. Tonight, everything felt sharper. the chill of the air, the dim glow of the lanterns, and the weight of his father's words.

His father hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. For a fleeting moment, the weight of years spent guarding the truth etched itself onto his face, softening his stern demeanor. "You'll be fifteen tomorrow," he said, his voice steady but tinged with a quiet sorrow. "You're no longer a boy, Albian. It's time you learn the truth about our family and it's history."

Albian sat across from him in the study, the room filled with the scent of old parchment and candle wax. The Eizhard crest, a magic staff surrounded by swirling depictions of fire, water, earth, wind, and the radiant hues of light and shadow. gleamed on the banner behind his father's chair. It was a symbol Albian had known all his life, but tonight, it felt like it carried secrets he wasn't ready to hear.

"Themonster, the demon, and also the seal you've heard about in story passing," his father continued, "it's not a tale to frighten children nor the bedtime story. It's a real thing. And it's our family's burden to guard it and keep it intact."

Albian's heart pounded in his chest. He had grown up with stories of monsters and demons, but they were bedtime tales, whispers of a forgotten age. To hear his father speak of them with such certainty sent a chill down his spine.

"What do you mean by real thing, and keep it intact?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

His father rose from the chair, walking to the bookshelf. He pulled out a thick tome bound in worn leather and laid it on the table. The title was etched in a language Albian couldn't read an unknown language. His father opened it to a page filled with intricate diagrams of runes and symbols.

"Our family was chosen centuries ago to guard the seal, a magic barrier that keeps the monsters imprisoned. The power to sustain it comes from us, from our bloodline. Every year, we enchant it anew to ensure it holds. If we fail…" He paused, his dark eyes meeting Albian's. "The whole world will fall into ruin."

Albian leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "Why tell me this now? Why not wait until…"

"Because you are an Eizhard, also the future head of the family," his father interrupted, his voice firm yet laced with a deep sadness. "The direct bloodline is unique. It carries a power unlike any other, a power to secure the seal and ensure it holds. No one else has this gift, Albian. Without us, the seal would crumble, and the monsters would return to destroy the world."

His father's gaze darkened, the weight of his words pressing into the silence. "Tomorrow, you will come of age. At fifteen, Eizhard's descendants are awakened to the power within them. It is not an easy process. It will test your strength, your will, and your very life. The ritual binds you to the seal, but it exacts a heavy toll. Some do not survive it."

Albian's breath caught, his fingers trembling slightly as he released his grip on the table. "What do you mean 'some'? Has anyone…?"

His father nodded solemnly. "I had an older brother. He failed and… passed away. It is a harsh reminder of the price we pay to protect this world. But I believe in you, Albian. You are strong, and you are ready, whether you feel it or not."

Albian's mind swirled with questions, but one burned brightest. "Why is it only our family? Do the others know about the seal? The other nobles? Even the Royal Family?"

"In the past, everyone knew," his father said, his expression hardening. "But after our ancestor's request to the king, the knowledge was erased from memory. Only our descendants were told." He leaned forward, his voice heavy with caution. "The fewer who know, the safer the seal remains. Fear and power are dangerous companions."

The room fell silent, the weight of his father's words sinking into the space between them. Outside, the wind howled louder, as if the forest itself understood the gravity of the night.

Albian clenched his fists, a mix of fear and determination coursing through him. Tomorrow, his life would change forever. He wasn't ready, but he had no choice.

The heavy conversation weighed on Albian's mind as he lay awake in his room. His father's words echoed in the silence, a mix of warning and belief that both inspired and unsettled him.

Far beneath the estate, hidden deep within its foundations, the seal stood in eternal stillness. Encased within an ancient stone chamber, the glowing sigils that formed its surface pulsed faintly, casting flickering shadows across the room. The seal's intricate design radiated power, each line etched with the elements of nature, encircled by symbols of light and dark.

For centuries, it had remained unbroken, its energy unwavering under the vigilance of the Eizhard bloodline. But now, as the night stretched on, the glow began to falter. The steady pulses grew erratic, dimming until the chamber seemed darker than ever before. The faint hum of power turned into a dissonant whisper, a sound that spoke of unease and warned of something stirring beyond its bounds.

The sigils flickered once more before the light faded almost entirely, leaving only a faint, eerie glow. The stillness that followed felt heavy, like a breath held in anticipation of something dreadful to come.

Far above, Albian stared out his window at the moonlit woods of Embermere, unaware of the ominous change happening below.