Chapter 5: Fire Forged
Age 7 – Keiran's POVThe training yard was filled with snarling demons and the clash of steel. Keiran darted between them, a wooden blade in his hands. His father's voice echoed from above:
"Faster. Stronger. Do not hesitate."
Every mistake was punished. Every bruise was a lesson. Keiran endured it silently, his small face set in a mask of defiance. When the demons lunged, he moved with instinct — and when they fell, bleeding and broken, Lucifer's applause rang hollow in his ears.
That night, he sat alone, staring at his hands. He wasn't proud. He wasn't afraid. Just… tired.
Age 10 – Lilith's POVShe found him in the library, surrounded by tomes far too advanced for his age. The pages glowed faintly as he traced sigils with his finger, lips moving silently.
"Keiran, darling," Lilith whispered, brushing his hair back. "You're still so young. Why not rest? Play?"
He looked at her flatly. "Resting is weakness. Playing is wasting time. Father will never stop. If I don't keep up, I'll be crushed."
Her chest ached. She reached for him, but he slipped from her grasp, already returning to the spells. And in the flicker of candlelight, she swore she saw shadows bend toward him like loyal pets.
Age 14 – NarratorBy adolescence, Keiran was feared even among Hell's legions. He sparred with demons twice his size and outmatched them. His command of witch magic grew unnaturally fast — a single lesson was enough for him to replicate spells that others studied for years.
Lucifer watched with satisfaction. "My son will eclipse them all."
Lilith watched with fear. "My son will lose himself."
And Keiran? He only cared to sharpen himself. Not for his father. Not for his mother. For himself.
Age 18 – Keiran's POVHis blade sang as it clashed against Lucifer's own. For the first time, Keiran wasn't struggling — he was holding his ground. The Morningstar's grin split wide as their weapons sparked.
"Yes, my boy! You are nearly worthy."
Keiran's eyes narrowed. "Worthy of you? Or of myself?"
Lucifer's laughter echoed in the chamber. He never answered.
Age 21 – NarratorOn the eve of his twenty-first year, something changed.
The fires of Hell seemed to hush when Keiran stood. His body no longer shifted with age — his features locked in place, sharp and eternal. His soul hummed with silent power, though he revealed little of it.
Neither Lucifer nor Lilith spoke of it aloud, but both knew: their son would look no older than this night forevermore.
The Prince of Hell was eternal.
And though they did not know it, Keiran had already decided one thing — eternity would be lived on his terms.