The sun had barely risen over Lunevale, spilling soft gold across the cobblestone streets. The city stirred slowly, merchants setting out their carts, bakers kneading dough in the early light, and the occasional carriage rattling down narrow lanes.
Mika Elowen stepped carefully onto the streets, his bare feet touching the cool stones. The warmth of the sun did little to ease the tension twisting in his chest. His scar throbbed faintly, a dull, insistent reminder that the world outside his home was not entirely ordinary.
He swallowed hard and glanced around. People walked past, their faces familiar yet distant, as though they belonged to another life he could not remember. His mind remained frustratingly blank, every thought slipping through his fingers like sand.
Beside him, Elara's hand brushed his arm lightly, grounding him.
"You'll be fine," she said softly, though her eyes were sharp, scanning the streets. "Just… be careful. No one can see what they shouldn't."
Mika looked at her, puzzled. "What… what shouldn't they see?"
Elara hesitated, then shook her head. "Nothing you need to worry about. Just… walk normally, and stay close to me."
He nodded, unsure whether to trust her words or the strange prickling sensation running down his spine.
As they walked, Mika tried to observe the city. The baker's shop smelled of bread and honey; the fountain in the square glistened in the early sunlight, its water shimmering like liquid crystal; stray cats prowled along the edges of the streets, hunting for scraps. Every detail felt painfully vivid, yet utterly alien.
And then he smelled it.
A delicate sweetness, faint yet unmistakable. It lingered in the air, subtle as the wind rustling through the trees, but it made his chest tighten and his pulse race.
He froze, instinctively glancing around.
A girl crouched beside a small cart stacked with herbs. Her hair was chestnut-brown, loosely braided over one shoulder, a few strands falling into her bright green eyes. She looked up sharply at him, her gaze piercing yet curious, almost like she could see through him.
"You… you're the boy from Sunflower Lane, aren't you?" she asked, rising to her feet. Her voice was calm, measured, with just a trace of concern.
Mika's throat went dry. "I… yes," he said quietly.
"I'm Iris Fenwood," she said, brushing dirt from her hands. "I've seen you around. You… seem different from the others."
Mika frowned. "Different? How?"
Iris smiled faintly. "I don't know. Something about you. You look… like you don't belong in this city, even though you live here."
Mika pressed a hand to his chest. "I… I feel that way, too."
Iris's green eyes softened. "I can tell. Look, I don't mean to scare you… but there are people who would notice things about you you don't even understand yet. People who would use that to their advantage."
Mika's stomach twisted. "Use me… for what?"
Iris's expression darkened slightly. "Power. Status. They watch for anyone unusual. That includes… you."
Her words made his chest tighten even more. He had no idea what she meant, but the unease crawling up his spine was impossible to ignore.
"I… I don't understand," he admitted.
"You will," Iris said firmly. "But for now, you need to be careful. Trust no one, except maybe me."
Her voice carried a confidence Mika could not match, and for some reason, he felt relieved. Somehow, he knew he could trust her, even if he did not fully understand why.
While Mika and Iris spoke, another figure moved silently through the streets.
Golden hair glinting in the morning sun, a noblewoman approached the edge of the Elowen district. Lady Seraphina Virelle's eyes flickered over the houses, sharp and calculating. Something in the air caught her attention—a subtle sweetness, almost imperceptible, that did not belong to her.
"She's awake," she whispered, her voice soft but deadly.
Her mother, Countess Evelyne Virelle, followed silently, her gaze cold and measured. "Do not underestimate him," she warned. "Something about this boy… he will change things, whether you want him to or not. Watch closely."
Seraphina's lips curved into a faint, almost cruel smile. "Of course, Mother."
The two retreated into the shadows, leaving behind only a faint tension that seemed to linger in the morning air.
Mika continued his walk, feeling the city press against him in a way that was both fascinating and terrifying. He felt drawn toward the fountain in the square, the sound of water rushing over stone soothing yet unnerving. Every instinct told him to be cautious, but a part of him—a strange, unnameable part—urged him forward.
He stopped abruptly as he noticed a group of men in muted uniforms speaking quietly near the corner of the street. Their words carried easily to him, though their faces were hidden.
"She's gone," one said.
"She'll come back," the other replied. "But he's unusual. Watch him carefully."
Mika's chest tightened. Unusual? What did that mean? He pressed himself against the wall, trying to shrink from their attention, but the scar on his lip tingled sharply, as if warning him.
Elara appeared suddenly, guiding him away. "Do not linger here," she whispered urgently. "You cannot draw attention."
"But… who are they?" Mika asked.
"No one you should speak to," she said, her tone firm. "Just remember… you must survive. And you must be careful who you trust."
Mika's heart pounded. His mother's worry was palpable, and the tension in the air made his every nerve scream. He wanted answers—so many questions—but he knew pushing her now would only make things worse.
By mid-afternoon, Mika found himself at a quiet alley behind the fountain. Iris had followed him, keeping pace silently.
"Why are you helping me?" Mika asked finally.
Iris shrugged. "Call it instinct. I can tell you're different. And I don't like to see people used or hurt. Especially when they can't defend themselves."
Mika studied her, sensing her sincerity. For the first time since waking up, he felt… not entirely alone.
"Then… I'll trust you," he said, voice low.
Iris smiled faintly, a rare softness in her eyes. "Good. But remember—trust carefully. There are people in this city who will notice even a small mistake. And they won't hesitate to act."
Mika swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. Already, he sensed danger lurking in the shadows. He could not explain why, but his instincts screamed at him to stay alert.
Even as he thought this, across the city, Seraphina paused on the edge of the street, sensing movement inside the Elowen home.
A spark of interest flickered in her golden eyes. She didn't yet know why, but she was certain of one thing: the boy was important.
And she intended to claim or destroy him before anyone else could.
That night, Mika lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His scar tingled faintly again, a dull heat that he couldn't ignore. He did not know why, but he felt the world shifting around him—subtle, invisible threads tugging at the edges of reality.
Outside, the city slept uneasily. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled faintly, as if sensing the change in the air.
And in the shadows, the world's watchful eyes had already begun their silent hunt.