Still reeling from last night's bell tolling like a warning, Lucius felt the same chill in the courtyard stones bite at his ankles as dawn broke. Remembering Caelum's promise—I hope he's right—the morning of the Awakening felt heavier than any armor he had ever worn.
Lucius hugged himself against the chill, the stones biting through his tunic.
He stood beside Caelum in the courtyard where they had once sparred and laughed. Now, silence reigned. The circle of family, nobles, and robed members of the Draconic Order surrounded them, their expressions reverent and watchful. Behind them, the high banners of the Order fluttered—red and gold emblazoned with a coiled dragon—its gaze piercing. Lucius couldn't look at it without feeling small.
And this awakening day, that ritual was theirs, and the Steelhart twins, born on the same fateful dawn thirteen years ago, would be its rarest subjects: the first twins to be born on the day of awakening in a century.
He shifted on his feet. "You nervous?"
"Kinda," Caelum admitted, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve.
Kinda? Just… Kinda? That stung. Lucius turned away before Caelum could see the look on his face.
A priest stepped forward, robes shimmering with mana-infused thread. "Let the mana of Aetheris recognize your blood, your soul," he intoned. "Let your truth be revealed."
As the priest raised his staff, Lucius swallowed hard. Commoners traveled to grand cathedrals for this rite—but here, beneath the ancient banners and noble eyes, it was just them.
Twins. On the day of Awakening. The rarest event in a century.
And Lucius had never felt more alone.
The priest's staff flared—and Lucius's knees trembled so badly he thought he'd fall.
Lucius blinked and looked sideways at Caelum, voice small: "Brother—?"
Caelum's shoulder bumped his side, voice a soft tremor: "You okay?" And Lucius could only nod, a lump clogging his throat.
The mana surged, splitting in two currents. Light flared around Caelum, wind teased loose strands of his hair. He reached out—finger trembling—then drew it back, cheeks pink as he swallowed. The priest's voice broke: "Mana Sovereign."
Lucius managed a shaky smile—until the second current struck him. It wasn't light or warmth, but the absence of both. His body went rigid. The air around him dimmed. It felt like someone had slapped him in the chest—cold, empty. A terrified whisper: "Mana Exile…"
Lucius's knees buckled.
"Impossible," someone muttered. "A Steelhart?"
He looked to Caelum—but his brother's glow felt impossibly far away, like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, and Caelum was already flying.
Then came the boots. Familiar. Measured.
Lord Dominus Steelhart strode forward, face unreadable. He looked at Caelum, nodded once. "You honor our name."
Then he turned to Lucius. His eyes, always cold, now turned sharp. "You... are not my son."
Lucius's throat constricted. He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood. He froze. "Wait—Father, I—"
"Enough!" Dominus's voice struck like a blade. "Return to your chambers, take what little you possess, and leave. By sundown. Or I will have you removed."
Lucius stared, mouth dry. "Cael—" He turned to his brother. "Please."
Caelum's palm lifted—an instinct to grab Lucius's hand—then fluttered back to his robe. He bit his lip, shoulders shuddering, voice cracking: "I'm… sorry.", His voice cracked. He swallowed and couldn't meet Lucius's eyes.
That single fractured apology cut deeper than any curse.
Lucius stared at him—at the brother who'd promised they'd face this together. Now even he looked away.
Fine, Lucius thought bitterly. If I'm on my own… then I'll do what I have to.
Lucius turned and walked.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Hours passed. The estate blurred into shadows behind him. In his magi-bag clinked 100 gold and 80 silver coins—plus the 30 gold he'd slipped from Caelum's satchel while the crowd pressed in.
Guilt clawed at him—but need was louder. He tucked the coins into his pouch, hands trembling so hard a few clattered free before he snagged them again.
He crossed the threshold of the Steelhart estate without looking back.
The world beyond smelled of pine and cold soil. The mana-rich forest loomed ahead—alive with glowing fungi, whispering winds, and creatures who fed off magic. He walked until his legs burned, stopping only when he collapsed beneath the twisted roots of an old willow.
He tried to light a fire with mana. Nothing happened. Not even a flicker. He stomped the cold from his feet, cheeks stinging from the chill.
He knelt and pressed his blistered palms to the rough stones—wincing—wishing for a spark. When the first flicker finally leapt to life, he let out a strangled breath and stared at it like a miracle.
Above, stars pierced the canopy. Alone beneath them, Lucius shivered—not from cold, but from the echo of his father's words.
He thought of his mother. Of her quiet strength. How she used to braid his hair when he was younger, whispering old lullabies in Draconic. He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.
Tears threatened, but he forced them back.
He couldn't let himself feel lost—wouldn't, not here in the dark.
A rustle. Eyes blinked in the dark beyond the firelight. He grabbed a stick. Nothing approached. Maybe the creatures felt the void around him. Maybe they were just waiting.
He stared at his hands—empty, powerless.
The dragons were supposed to guide bloodlines. Bestow gifts. But Lucius now wondered—had they turned their gaze away from him completely?
But something stirred within the silence.
A pull.
Like gravity turned inward. Like he was no longer a part of the world's magic, but its absence. And maybe that meant he had power of a different kind. Unseen. Unwanted. But real.
He leaned back against the bark, letting the fire warm his feet.
He hugged his knees and whispered into the dark, "I hope… one day they'll see I'm not nothing."
Behind him, shadows flickered.
And far away—back in the Steelhart estate—Caelum stood alone in the training yard, wind swirling at his heels. His shoulders slumped as he stared toward the forest where shadows swallowed his brother. And he said nothing.