Lucius sat quietly in the manor's sunlit parlor, a small figure bouncing beside him.
His brother, barely ten, had the sharp eyes of youth but none of the coldness that had marked this body before Lucius took control. The boy watched him with an innocent curiosity that made Lucius feel… almost human.
"You're really different," the boy said softly. "Papa said the old me never smiled."
Lucius smirked. "Old me, huh?"
The boy shrugged, but there was no malice. Just the way kids accept things they don't understand.
"Will you teach me to be strong like you?" the boy asked.
Lucius's gaze flicked to the window, where the fading light painted the sky in muted gold. "Maybe. But first, you need to understand this world."
He cleared his throat, shifting into the part that came easier — the teacher.
"The world runs on mana. Everyone has it, but how strong it is… that's another story."
The boy's eyes widened.
"Some can shape it like fire or water. Others, like me, are barely waking up to it. The fruit I ate didn't give me power — just a flicker. A chance."
Lucius pulled a small, worn book from his satchel and opened it.
"This is the Mage Codex. It's how magic users learn to understand and control mana."
He traced a finger along the faded text.
"Your strength isn't just muscle or magic. It's patience. Practice. Knowing when to hold back and when to push forward."
The boy nodded, biting his lip.
Lucius leaned back, feeling the familiar pulse of weak mana in his chest — flickering, reluctant, but real.
The manor's gates creaked shut outside.
Lucius's journey had only just begun.