POV: Kael Lanpar
(Two months earlier)
Beyond the magic, the fantastic beasts and the battles that feel like everyday life… what still shocks me is how casually everyone accepts bloodshed.
In my previous life, humanity was grounded by laws—imperfect, yes, but meant to remind us of our limits. Those laws exist here too, yet morality often feels like an empty word.
Maybe it's because from the moment you're born you learn that death will chase you at every step. Or because, sometimes, taking another life is the only way to save your own.
Whatever the reason, I won't waste time on it now. Least of all when I'm stuck here… with this damned clown.
At first I liked Alfin. He had charisma and a sharp mind for his age. But what's really starting to wear me out is his natural talent for getting into trouble.
It's astonishing. Really.
Among the crowd enjoying a beautiful morning under the sun's light, I was sitting on a beer barrel, eating an apple. From there I could see my cousin… doing another one of his stupid stunts.
"So, trying to steal, kid?" boomed the owner of an exotic fruit stall. "Haven't you learned there are consequences for thieves?"
I sighed and took another bite of my fruit. I knew this wouldn't end well—the vendor's aura was already flaring violently.
"Ehh… I wasn't stealing, sir. I was just looking at the fruits out of curiosity. What's wrong with that?" Alfin replied with a grin.
It was obvious he was about to blurt some nonsense and make everything worse. So I did what I do best.
I rose from the barrel, turned halfway, and started whistling, slipping through the crowd to avoid being seen.
When I heard Alfin's mutter, I knew it was time to run:
"You bitter old man," he snorted.
"What… whaaat? How dare you call me that, you thieving brat?" shouted the vendor, his voice echoing through the square.
Alfin raised his hands and, in a burst of wind, appeared by my side, covering me in dust and tousling my hair in the same motion.
"We'd better run," he said, grabbing my arm. "That demon wants to kill us."
"I think he only wants you," I pointed out. "Why do you always drag me into your messes?"
He didn't answer. I had no choice but to run with him—because the vendor's shouts were closing in fast.
I slipped free of Alfin's grip and quickened my pace, dodging bodies in the crowd and doing my best to stay close.
In part I understood the vendor. I wouldn't trust two hooded kids either—barely visible faces and all— I thought, hearing the shouts behind us.
Dodging someone who cut across my path, my gaze slid to the side… and I saw him.
A boy lay on the ground, clutching his stomach, his face twisted in pain.
His eyes squeezed shut, breath shallow, a faint whimper barely audible above the bustle—he stopped me cold.
In his face I saw a past like mine. I remembered the times hunger doubled me over with nothing to fill it.
I let out a heavy sigh. The boy was suffering, and yet everyone ignored him. They passed him as if he didn't exist.
"Kael, where are you going?" Alfin called, seeing me pull away. "Damn, this can't be real…"
My cousin's voice faded as I pushed into the crowd and slipped into an alley thick with rats and empty bottles.
I approached slowly, careful not to frighten him. Then I offered the fruits I'd stolen from a stall.
"Here, friend. This is for you," I said, forcing a smile.
At the sound of my voice, the boy's eyes flew open. He backed away immediately, trembling as if he feared I might hurt him.
"They're fruit… do you want one?" I asked, lowering my voice.
"You're… the same age as me," he answered, surprised. "Why are you helping me?"
"And why wouldn't I?" My reply seemed to calm him.
Within seconds, hunger betrayed him. His stomach growled through the alley, and his eyes lit up.
As he began to eat with joy, I couldn't help but remember. The cold rain on my skin, the tearing ache of hunger that never left. I would have wished back then that someone had helped me.
At least now, I could make a difference.
"Wow, looks like he's from Calaris," Alfin remarked, rubbing the little boy's head as he devoured the fruit. "Cases like this are becoming more common. More and more people are coming to the capital looking for a better future."
I knew the kingdom was struggling under the attacks of the revolutionaries, but I never imagined things were this bad.
Deeper into the alley I saw several others in the same condition as the boy: lying on the frozen ground, surrounded by rats slipping between their bodies. Some clutched whatever little they had with hands full of despair.
There were adults, children, and elders. Many were sick. Some were already dead. The stench of rotting flesh filled the air, making it hard to breathe.
The further I went, the more chilling the scene became.
Then I felt something wet under my foot. I looked down…and realized it was a pool of blood. Beside it, a dead woman held the tiny skeleton of her child to her chest.
I froze, grief pressing my chest tight, as Alfin's distant shouts reached me.
We are all born and die innocent, I thought. The world corrupts the soul, but not the eyes of life.
In some ways the Prophet was right. Words can lie, the body can deceive, but the eyes… the eyes always tell the truth.
We are all children in a world that forces us to change how we think and to crush our innocence.
"Kael, we have to go," Alfin said, gripping my arm firmly.
As I walked away, I felt the gazes of those we left behind. In the depths of their tearful eyes they begged not to be forgotten.
I turned my face away in pain and began to run. Through my tears I heard the boy I had helped call out his thanks.
I don't know how far we ran, but the distance felt enormous.
From a rock where I sat, I took in the beauty of Luzarion. The city stretched out before me, walking a thin line between light and darkness, between good and evil.
From there I could see the castle, majestic, framed by the unique architecture of each home in the capital. Every window glowed strongly. They were the people's auras—light brighter than the sun, more powerful than magic: life.
"What are you staring at so hard?" Alfin asked, panting from the exertion.
"The perfect creation of something beautiful," I replied, climbing down from the rock and moving closer to him. "Now that you've rested, will you tell me why we were hooded?"
"You're too smart and too nosy for your age," he said, fixing me with a look.
"I read a lot and I don't like going to bed with questions," I answered, folding my arms. "Come on, speak up."
"Well… to start, I think you already understand in a way what it means to be a Lanpar," he began. "Our lineage is… one among many demons embodied in promises and blood."
"Kael, this life is not perfect. And even if it were, we aren't. We always make mistakes," he continued. "What we are isn't holy… nor loved by all."
I lowered my gaze, depression hitting me again as memories surfaced. Alfin didn't seem to notice.
"Whatever," he said, stretching. "My uncle's tied up and can't come. I'll train you today."
"You're probably wondering what I'll teach you," he added, pulling me out of my thoughts.
"Yes, exactly that," I replied, pushing the memories aside. "You know I can't use magic, right?"
He simply nodded and sat down at once. That playful smile that spread across his face gave me a strange tickle at my lips, as if urging me to smile too—if only a little.
Alfin didn't take long to speak. His voice, calm yet heavy with weight, filled the silence between us.
"Mana is everywhere. You breathe it, you touch it, you feel it…" he said, letting the words linger in the air like undeniable truths. "But only ten out of every hundred are capable of manipulating it."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the ratio.
"So few?"
"Yes." He nodded. "Because simply being near it isn't enough. To awaken it, to truly touch it, something more is needed… astral awakening."
I stayed quiet. I had heard that term before, but from his lips it seemed to carry a different gravity.
"It's difficult," he continued. "It takes an emotional trigger, an event powerful enough to rip the soul out of its slumber. That's why so many never succeed."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, as though he was about to confide a secret.
"There are two ways to awaken the soul. Two paths that mark a mage's destiny: corruption… or illumination."
A chill ran down my spine. It didn't sound like a simple choice, but a sentence.
Alfin paused, searching for his words with care, as if what he was about to say resisted being spoken.
"The strange thing is, it's said that one must master their emotions to reach illumination. To keep them in check, to be their master. But some can't. Sometimes it's the emotions that end up mastering the soul. And that… opens another door."
His expression darkened.
"Very few have undergone that kind of awakening. We don't know what consequences it brings, but its marks are always unmistakable."
I watched him closely, waiting.
Alfin raised a hand and traced an invisible circle in the air, as though drawing the outline of a moon.
"When someone awakens, their spirit beholds two moons. The first is the Pale Moon: white, serene, pure… the symbol of Illumination. The other is the Bloodstained Moon: reddish, capable of weeping blood. That one represents Corruption."
I swallowed hard. Both images formed in my mind, and the contrast unsettled me deeply.
"The way the moon evolves within you," he went on, "depends on your experiences. Illumination is born of discipline, maturity, and a bond with positive emotions. Corruption, on the other hand, rises from pain, trauma… or the excess of power."
He fell silent, as if leaving me alone with the vision of those two moons fighting for the sky of my soul.
For a moment, the peaceful forest vanished. Before me rose a battlefield filled with ashes, corpses, and fire.
Kneeling on a cold layer of blood, I saw my reflection twisted: my face stained, burdened with suffering and repressed pain.
Until now, I had devoted myself to cultivating a healthy mind, far from the memories that consume me. I understood I couldn't keep killing myself for a past life when another was at stake.
It was hard… but necessary. And I think effective. Also thanks to Kraidir. He was always there, present in my doubts. I owe him much, even if he is a god.
"How about a warm-up?" Alfin said, pulling me back to reality.
"Sounds good… but don't cry if I win."
He only smiled before getting ready.
From that day on I trained with Alfin without rest, squeezing every drop of strength my small body could give. We looked for ways to trigger my awakening while also drilling in hand-to-hand combat.
After a month of training, I began to see results. I wasn't going to grow chiseled muscles or the torso of a warrior at my age, but my endurance had improved, and I was adapting better to this body.
(One month later)
The seasons changed, and snow arrived; my body no longer remembered how weak it had once been.
"You've improved… really," Alfin said, panting. "It's hard to fight without the help of astral magic."
"I think so too," I replied, falling to my knees, exhaustion cutting through me. "At least now I can last longer in battle."
"Hey, what did you say that combat technique was called?" Alfin asked, still catching his breath.
"Moikido," I answered, also trying to regain air.
Moikido was a fighting method that combined defense and offense at once: dodge an enemy's strike while countering subtly and directly at the vital points from which the attack originates.
I learned it in the army, under Marcois' tutelage. Old friend… wherever you are, forgive me for not understanding your choice.
"And where the hell do you learn that kind of madness?" Alfin spat, collapsing onto the ground.
"It's not learned. You feel it," I replied, lying down beside him.
For a moment we stayed there, leaning on the cool grass. Above us, clouds floated bathed in moonlight. Around us, crickets sang and fireflies danced in the air, as if the world refused to share our burdens.
Amid that calm, a prick of unease stabbed my chest. Lately, beyond the training, there had been a strange atmosphere in the castle. My parents grew increasingly nervous. And now Lilia's recent disappearance only worsened my distrust. Something was wrong.
Just as I was about to leave Alfin alone on the hill, a voice broke the stillness. My body moved before my mind, and I hid behind a tree to watch.
The figure that appeared wore a mask. I couldn't see the face clearly—perhaps because of the darkness, perhaps because of the disguise—but the white hair whipping in the wind left no doubt. I recognized her instantly.
It was my sister.
I stood perfectly still, listening. What began as a conversation soon turned into an argument. Neither spoke in a good mood. Ironically, Alfin remained the calmer of the two.
Until he said something that froze my blood.
"Mayrei, you're talking nonsense. Family? What bloody family are you talking about when you don't have one? You're adopted. Have you forgotten?"
The silence that followed was as sharp as a blade. I watched Mayrei go still, rooted to the spot. Then frost crept over her hands and, in the blink of an eye, she formed two ice spears.
She hurled them in fury.
Both whistled past Alfin's face and snapped into the tree behind him.
Alfin didn't flinch. He stood there, looking her straight in the eyes.
"I hate you!" Mayrei screamed, then vanished into the trees with a leap.
I kept watching. I don't know if it was real or if I was hallucinating, but I would swear I saw tears on Alfin's face. Those words weren't a simple outburst. They hurt him.
So Mayrei wasn't really my sister.
I had suspected it before, but… why such cruelty from Alfin?
The forest fell silent. Alone, among shadows and the cold wind, I found myself asking why I had chosen to live again.
Snowflakes began to fall, cold against my skin. And in that solitude I remembered my promise.
I'm here so I won't fail those I love again.
If necessary, I'll dig my own grave just to die with a smile—clinging to the only gift left to me: a second chance.