The scent of roses clung to Queen Bianca as she strolled into the nursery, her silver-threaded robes trailing like the tail of a serpent. Servants cleared the room without a word—everyone knew better than to linger when she wore that particular smile.
"Good morning, my sons," she sang. Her voice was all velvet and venom.
Gabriel, ever eager, ran to her. "Mother, I beat three guards in wooden swordplay!"
Bianca cupped his face, cooing, "Of course you did. My golden boy."
Daemon remained seated in the corner, building a castle from black stones. The walls were uneven, the towers cracked. Deliberately imperfect. Still, his hands moved with unsettling calm.
"And you, Daemon?" she asked.
He looked up with the softest smile. "I'm learning to be strong, Mother. Like Gabriel."
Bianca's eyes flickered. Too polished. Too safe.
"Good," she said after a beat. "You'll have help now."
She gestured toward the doorway.
In stepped Noah.
He looked nothing like an assassin—broad-shouldered, brown-skinned, with shaggy dark hair and a mild smile that didn't reach his eyes. His presence, however, was wrong.
Even Daemon felt it: something heavy, tightly coiled beneath Noah's calm. Like a blade kept hidden under silk.
"This is Noah," Bianca announced. "A master of aura control. He'll be teaching both of you, personally. Be polite."
Daemon's stomach curled. A six-star? In the palace? Just for them?
Gabriel pouted immediately. "I don't want to learn with him!" he snapped, pointing at Daemon. "He's weird. He always stares. And he touched my sword when I told him not to."
Bianca laughed as though it was charming. "You'll learn together. After all..." Her smile sharpened. "You're twins."
Then, she leaned in close to Daemon. Too close.
Her lips brushed his ear.
"Learn well, my darling. It'd be a shame if your talent went unnoticed... or wasted."
With that, she turned and swept out, her perfume clinging to the room like a warning.
Once she was gone, the silence thickened.
Noah finally spoke. "So. You're the little royals I've heard so much about."
His tone was casual, but Daemon caught the undertone.
Noah clapped his hands. "Today, we begin with Astral Core development. Your first real step on the Astral Ladder."
He dragged his foot across the dirt, carving a line. Then sat cross-legged with military precision.
"Sit. Both of you. We start with breath."
Gabriel dropped down lazily, already bored. Daemon followed quietly, hiding the sharp gleam in his eyes.
Noah placed a hand over his chest.
"Astral Force is the foundation of strength in this world. It's the fusion of Mana, Will, and Origin. It flows through the air, the ground... your blood. But to wield it? You must first refine it—form your Astral Core."
He tapped his chest again. "This is where it begins."
Daemon listened, but didn't follow. He already had his core. Burning Star, third stage. More than enough to fool a tutor.
But Noah wasn't a fool. His eyes flickered toward Daemon now and then, calculating. Watching.
He knows something's off.
Good, Daemon thought. Let him wonder. I'm not dying at the hands of a six-star dog.
Gabriel yawned loudly. "This is stupid. Why can't you just teach me a cool technique?"
Noah chuckled. "Those cool technics come after foundations. You build a house on sand, you get buried when the storm comes."
Daemon sat quietly, pretending to struggle. He didn't move his core. Not yet.
He knew a setup when he saw one.
He could feel Noah's attention hovering—just a hair too sharp.
He's testing me. Watching how fast I catch on.
Daemon kept his breathing uneven, exaggerated the confusion in his eyes.
But deep inside his core, he pulsed once—silently, like a second heartbeat—and felt his aura ripple in answer.
Let's not show the wolf my fangs just yet.
Still, as they "trained," Daemon subtly reached out—sensed the weight in Noah's aura.
Six-star. No question.
A predator disguised as a teacher.
Too strong to fight. Too smart to fool. I'll have to tiptoe until I grow fangs long enough to bite him back.
Noah opened one eye briefly.
Daemon's posture was off. His hands fidgeted. A poor student.
Yet... something about that stillness was off.
Like a snake playing dead.
Noah said nothing. But he made a note.
And Daemon, behind his mask of innocent confusion, smiled.
*****
(A week later)
The morning sun spilled across the palace courtyard, gilding the stone in warm light as the twins knelt before Noah in silent meditation.
Daemon's eyes were half-lidded. Unmoving. Breathing steady.
Gabriel, by contrast, twitched with impatience.
"I don't feel anything," Gabriel grumbled.
"Be quiet and focus," Noah said, voice calm but firm. "Astral Force isn't a roar—it's a breath. A whisper of who you are."
Minutes passed.
Then Gabriel stiffened.
His brows furrowed, lips parting as a slow breath escaped. The air shimmered faintly around his body.
Noah's eyes snapped open.
Dust rose around Gabriel. The ground cracked beneath him. A faint golden pulse lit up his chest—soft, divine, unmistakable.
Astral Awakening.
Noah stood immediately, face unreadable but clearly impressed. "You've done it."
Gabriel blinked. "What?"
"You've reached the Flicker Star. Your Astral Core has formed. At five years old..." He let out a slow breath. "Very few nobles do that before eight."
Gabriel sat up straighter, smirking instantly. "I knew I'd beat him."
He shot a smug glance at Daemon, who sat still, unbothered.
Daemon looked up, smiling faintly. "Congratulations, Gabriel."
Noah turned to Daemon. "And you? Any stirrings yet?"
Daemon shrugged innocently. "I felt warm, but... nothing like him."
Noah narrowed his eyes slightly, but said nothing.
Later, as Gabriel raced off to tell Queen Bianca, practically glowing with pride, Daemon remained on the training ground—alone again.
He sat beneath the rusted archway, watching ants trail across the stone.
A one-star already, huh? he thought, lips curling.
Good. I want you strong. I want you fast. I want you proud of it. That way, when I destroy you, there won't be excuses. No mercy. No "you were weaker."
He touched the center of his chest, where his second-star aura core throbbed silently like a black sun.
Still too small. Still not enough.
He remembered the wars of his past life. His blade clashing with monsters. His cape torn in fire. His back turned by allies.
By Gabriel.
That betrayal still lived in his bones like a scar that never stopped burning.
But now his brother had awakened.
It was beginning.
The story was writing itself again—but this time, Daemon held the pen.
And he would make sure the final chapter ended with blood.