The morning sun rose once more, its soft light spreading across Astren, turning rooftops into shimmering gold and gently warming the fields.
However, this warmth couldn't conceal the changes brewing underneath the surface.
A transformation had begun.
The First Miracle
Stellan was seated outside his house, enjoying the gentle movement of the breeze through the grass.
He appreciated mornings, not for their brightness, but for their peacefulness.
This peacefulness revealed the truth.
His mother was nearby in her garden, humming softly as she removed dead leaves.
One flower, a white lily, drooped with brown edges.
She touched it with a sad expression.
"Oh dear… I didn't water you enough. "
Stellan looked at the flower.
He felt something stirring within him.
It wasn't an emotion.
It wasn't a thought.
It was a memory of power he'd never been taught.
He slightly raised his hand.
The air became still.
Time seemed to stop.
The wilted flower regained its upright position, its color returning, its petals tightening, blooming as if reversing death itself.
His mother gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.
"Stellan…? "
Stellan blinked in surprise.
He hadn't intended to do it.
It simply happened.
He stared at his hand — small, innocent, yet terrifying.
"…I'm not sure," he whispered.
She drew him close, her fear mixed with love.
It wasn't fear of him.
It was fear for him.
Greatness was not a gift in the lands of mortals; it was danger, waiting to be noticed.
Ren's Awakening
Across the village, Ren struck a wooden post, shattering it completely.
Adults turned to look.
Children stood still.
No boy his age should possess that kind of power.
No eyes should possess that intensity—sharp, calculating, assessing the world as something he would one day dominate.
"Ren Samael," one villager said quietly. "Such strength…"
"A blessed child," another whispered.
Ren heard the praise, absorbing it like fuel, like a prophecy.
If Stellan awakened power…
Ren would surpass mastery through sheer willpower.
Where Stellan was called, Ren would ascend.
If destiny favored one…
Ren would reshape destiny.
He wrapped cloth around his bleeding knuckles, his eyes blazing with intensity.
"I won't follow," he muttered.
"I rise above. "
It was not jealousy.
It was refusal to submit.
The Arrival
A cold feeling moved through the village.
The sound of hooves echoed on the ground.
The rustling of cloaks stirred up dust.
A stranger arrived, wearing robes adorned with ancient runes, symbols older than kingdoms.
His eyes were sharp.
His aura was concealed yet powerful.
He was a Seeker.
He was sent by forces who sensed a disturbance in existence.
He didn't speak to anyone.
He simply observed, searching.
Two children had shaken the cosmos.
And fate always sent observers when prophecies began to stir.
He stopped as he passed the temple, where the old priest was kneeling.
"They have awakened," the Seeker murmured.
The priest bowed, his voice trembling:
"The first will rise in defiance.
The second—inevitably. "
The Seeker smiled slightly.
"I have to find them. "
His gaze shifted, considering not one path, but two.
One was shadowed by ambition.
The other was filled with quiet destiny.
Night Again
Stellan sat beneath stars, knees hugged to his chest, wondering why he felt seen by the sky.
Ren stood atop a hill, staring at the moon as if challenging it to bow.
Two children.
Two futures.
Two thrones — but only one beside the Creator.
The wind whispered through Astren:
The eclipse has begun.