Does everyone have freedom, or are they just pretending to? What's the point of this when they're bound by stupid rules ?
Is freedom another beautiful cage?
"Lucien, Lucien, Luci—"
"Ugh, what the hell? Why are you so noisy?" Lucien said.
"Look, Lucien, what I found," Lyana said.
"Another history book?"
"Yes," she said proudly. "And before you say anything stupid, let me tell you this one isn't boring."
"That's exactly what you said about the last three."
"Those weren't boring, "she continued. "I'm damn sure you'll like this."
She flipped the book around so he could see the title.
Ashfall.
Lucien blinked. "Ashfall?"
"Have you never heard of Ashfall Night before?"
"No," he said slowly. "Should I?"
Lyana hesitated.
That hesitation was almost
unnoticeable, which made Lucien sit up.
"...Lyana?"
She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the book. "This book barely mentions it."
"Mentions what?"
She leaned closer, lowering her voice even though the garden was empty.
"According to the records," she said, "Ashfall Night was the night when he died."
"Who?"
"Don't say it loudly, idiot," she said.
"There's no one here."
"That doesn't matter."
She glanced around, as if the trees themselves might be listening. When she spoke again, it was barely above a whisper.
"Cael Ashfall."
Lucien felt it—not fear exactly, but a pressure behind his eyes, as if the world had shifted half a step out of alignment.
"Who's that guy?" he asked.
Lyana's voice trembled." They say he slaughtered entire cities, experimented on demons, mages, civilians, even newborns. Not for war, not for conquest. Just to see what would happen."
She continued, "He crossed into demon continents, and left rivers of blood there too. That's why his name is forbidden everywhere."
Before he could speak, a voice cut through the tension.
"Kids! Come here before it gets warm!"
Mirelle stepped out onto the porch, a gentle smile on her face, a bowl of freshly cut watermelon balanced in her hands.
"I brought snacks," she said. "And don't tell me you've been lying in the dirt again, Lucien."
Lyana jumped to her feet. "He started it!"
Lucien exhaled and stood, brushing grass from his clothes. "I was thinking."
"That explains everything," Lyana muttered.
They gathered around the wooden table as Mirelle set the bowl down on the table.
"What were you talking about?" Mirelle asked.
Lucien hesitated, just for a second.
"Ashfall Night," he said.
The change in Mirelle was immediate.
Her hands froze.
"That's not something you should be discussing."
"Why, Mom?" Lyana asked. "It's history."
Mirelle met Lucien's eyes. There was fear there, not for herself.
"You both are only fifteen," she continued "Some knowledge comes with weight; you don't need that weight yet."
She softened, brushing Lucien's hair back gently. "Especially you."
Lyana opened her mouth to argue, but Mirelle cut her off.
"By the way, are you two ready for your academic entrance test?"
Lyana's eyes lit up. "Yeah!"
Lucien nodded slowly.
"The test measures compatibility," Mirelle said. "Not just power. The world responds differently to different people."
Lucien felt something inside him—as if the wind was pressing against a closed door.
"We've been practicing," Lyana said proudly. "Just wait, I'll be the strongest fire mage they've ever seen."
She laughed. "Lucien can't even beat me in a duel."
"That's because you don't follow the rules," Lucien replied flatly.
Mirelle smiled. "And you, Lucien? What path will you walk?"
"Who knows." he said.
Footsteps sounded from the gate.
"Welcome back, Dad!" Lyana shouted.
Rowan entered the garden, eyes warm and tired. Lyana slammed into him playfully.
"You took too long," she complained.
Rowan laughed. "Next time I'll ask the roads to move faster."
His gaze shifted to Lucien.
"...Last time I saw you," he continued, "your hair wasn't this long."
Lucien tilted his head slightly.
"Still shines like the moon, though," Rowan said.
Lyana burst out laughing. "He's my sister, Dad," she continued. "Look at that long icy-blue hair!"
Lucien shot her a look. "I'm older than you by a month; call me big brother."
She grinned wider. "Dream on."
Rowan chuckled, then his expression grew serious.
"Tomorrow," he said, "we'll leave for the academy. Professor Archon will arrive in the morning. We'll travel together."
That night, as Lucien lay awake, the wind brushed against the window.
For a moment, it felt like someone was watching.
-----
You didn't choose this story.
It chose you.