"Today is the day I become six years old."
In a dim room, whose only source of light was the sliver that slipped through a gap in the curtain, an eery silence reigned.
One could guess the high status of the person residing inside the room since it was filled with luxurious furniture.
On the king-sized bed lays a boy, whose features were extremely striking, porcelain skin with no defects, jet-black hair that fell in soft, uneven strands across his forehead. His eyes unnaturally red-glowed like embers in the dim light, unsettling yet strangely captivating. There was something quiet about him, something that shouldn't show on someone his age. It was his attitude
His eyes were peeking intently on a certain book that he was holding with his small yet rough hands, judging from the calluses and scratches on his hands, It would be easy to assume he has trained with the sword ever since he started walking.
The book in question had a red cover made from ancient yet clean leather. One could see the history etched into its very fibers.
There were some certain words imprinted on it. The words were 'The Soul weapons'.
Seeing the boy's expression, one could guess he was anxious, almost he was about to experience the most important moment of his life.
A few minutes later, someone knocked on the perfectly tailored wooden door and entered the room without an ounce of hesitation.
"Young master, it's time."
It was an elderly man, with grey combed hair, wearing a formal suit, he was the butler of the family.
"Okay, Alfred." murmured the boy, "Just wait, I'm gonna wear my clothes."
The boy got up from the bed he was lying on and put the book he was reading on the bookshelf across the bed.
"Let me help you, Young master."
"Yes, I'd like that. " responded the boy.
The butler proceeded to help the boy wear a well-ironed black shirt with the crest of a sword piercing through the crescent moon and a black pair of pants.
"You're looking great." said the butler with a warm smile on his face.
"Thank you, now lead the way."
"Please follow me then."
Currently, both of them were marching in a wide corridor, portraits of paintings were hanging on the walls, reminiscing the long history of their family.
After a few minutes of walking, they stopped and came opposite to large black door with fancy engravings on it, and gemstones that sparkled like dying stars.
"Young master, please enter the room."
The boy took a deep breath. He knew that this moment would impact his life for the better or the worse.
The boy looked at the butler with a determined expression and nodded.
Alfred stared at the boy for a moment and then began to push the door. Light seeped out of the gap, widening every second until the door fully opened.
Ins
Then the youth began to walk towards the middle of the room. In front of him was a black throne, sitting on it was a man who looked exactly like the boy but with older features, he had a slick back haircut, and his presence made anyone who looked at him want to kneel before him, his pure-blood eyes screamed danger as if he looked down on everything on his eyesight.
"I offer my greetings to you, Father."
The boy placed his right knee on the marble floor and his right hand on his chest, and directed his gaze towards the ground.
"Raise your head, my son." said the man who looked no older than thirty-five years old.
The first person the boy looked after raising his head was his mother as he greeted her.
"Hello, Mother." said the boy.
Sitting next to the man was an extremely gorgeous woman, her gaze sharp yet warm at the same time, but what defined her the most was the synergy between her white snow hair, her sky-blue eyes, and her ivory white dress. At the moment, if any man or woman looked at her, they would get their breath taken away by her.
She waved at the boy with an affectionate smile, after that, his eyes wandered around the room as he saw multiple familiar figures such as the black knights' commander and his vice, captains, and other important members of the family.
Right beside the patriarch was a tall man standing with an uptight look. He had blonde hair and deep blue eyes, and his hands were holding much smaller delicate hands, they belonged to a young girl who was exceptionally cute, she had silk-like light blonde hair, with a beautiful pair of intense pink eyes.
She was the daughter of the blonde man.
"Today, we have two events that will determine the fate of our household, but first I would like to ask you, my son, as you know Rose turned six years old a couple of days ago, but due to our relationship with the Viremonts, I and her father wanted to let her join you in your ceremony, so would you accept our proposal?"
The boy looked at the girl and smiled. "Absolutely, Father."
At his declaration, the girl instantly slipped from סס her father's grasp, leaving him momentarily dumbfounded - a sight that caused the boy's father to let out a low chuckle. With an air of blissful disregard for her surroundings, she walked directly towards the boy.
"Hey," she muttered, once she was standing beside him.
The boy responded with a slight smirk. "Hey."
"What's up?" she grinned, settling beside him on the floor.
"Just a bit nervous, that's all. And you?" he replied, his gaze unwavering as he held her eyes.
"I feel the same," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.
A moment later, a deep voice, resonant and commanding, echoed through the vast room, instantly silencing the assembled crowd. Every eye turned to the figure on the dais.
"Aamon Lucien Darkheim," the voice boomed, "heir of the Darkheim family, son of Jin Vale Darkheim and Seraphina Elaris Darkheim. Today marks the dawn of a day that shall determine your fate. Let the grand ceremony commence."
A collective gasp swept through the hall, but it was abruptly cut short. A thunderous shout from the man seated on the throne reverberated, "SILENCE!"
Then, with a sudden shift to a deceptively gentler tone, he declared, "Let the ceremony begin.