The orphanage always smelled faintly of warm bread and old wood. On sunny days, light spilled through the high windows and painted the halls in golden patches. To the children, it was a place of laughter, quarrels, and daily mischief. But to Kael, the small boy with messy brown hair and a quiet smile, the orphanage was both a cage and a fragile home.

  Kael had never known his parents. The matrons said he was left on the doorstep wrapped in a faded green cloth, no note, no keepsake. For as long as he could remember, he had lived within those walls—never stepping beyond the iron gate, never feeling the wide world beyond.

  The other children often picked on him. He was smaller, weaker, slower. They tripped him during chores, mocked his thin frame, and whispered about his strange eyes that sometimes gleamed oddly in the dark. But Kael was not completely alone.

  Eric was always there.

  Eric was taller, stronger, and quick-witted. Where Kael faltered, Eric stood firm. The two were inseparable—brothers not by blood, but by every choice they made to stand together. When Kael fell, Eric helped him up. When Eric stole extra bread from the kitchen, Kael covered for him. In the silent hours of night, they whispered their dreams to one another.

  “I’ll see the world one day,” Eric often said, lying on the creaky bunk bed above Kael. “I’ll climb mountains, cross the sea, maybe even meet kings. No more scrubbing floors or being called ‘orphan trash.’”

  Kael, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes, would smile faintly. “If you go, I’m going with you. We’ll see it together.”

  Eric would laugh. “You? You can barely lift a broom without stumbling. But fine. You can tag along—just don’t slow me down.”

  Kael always smiled at those words. But sometimes, in the flicker of lantern light, he thought he caught something sharp in Eric’s eyes—something like doubt, or even… envy.

  Those nights, Kael believed they would escape together.

  ---

  The day everything changed began like any other. Kael and Eric were cleaning the front steps when the creak of wagon wheels echoed through the gate. A small convoy stopped outside, and strangers in dark cloaks entered the orphanage.

  Kael straightened, broom in hand. He had never seen anyone like them before. They moved with quiet purpose, their faces partly shadowed by hoods. Even their boots made no sound on the stone floor.

  Eric leaned closer, his voice low. “Who are these people? I don’t like it.”

  Kael’s eyes lingered on the tallest figure, the one whose gaze seemed to cut through the courtyard. Curiosity burned inside him. “Let’s go check it out,” he whispered.

  Eric frowned. “Kael… this isn’t smart.”

  But Kael was already moving. Something about the strangers pulled at him, like a string tugging his chest. Reluctantly, Eric followed.

  They trailed behind the group, keeping to shadows and corners. Kael’s heart thudded louder the closer they drew. From behind, he heard snatches of murmured words.

  The leader—his voice deep and commanding—whispered, “The boy is here. His power is dormant, but it will awaken. Only he can help us achieve our goal.”

  Kael froze. The boy? Power? His stomach twisted. He had no power. He was weak, bullied, ordinary.

  Eric tugged at his sleeve. “They’re talking nonsense. Come on, let’s go back.”

  But Kael shook his head, eyes wide. “I need to know…”

  The cloaked figures slipped into a room at the far end of the hall—a room forbidden to the orphans. The heavy door closed behind them. Kael and Eric crouched by a cracked wall, listening.

  Inside, muffled voices rose.

  “…the orphanage must be disposed of…”

  “…the director is already under watch…”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “…once we have the boy, the rest won’t matter…”

  Kael’s breath caught. Dispose of the orphanage?

  Panic flared. He shifted back, meaning to run—but his foot caught Eric’s leg. He stumbled forward with a loud thud, hitting the floor.

  The room went silent.

  The door burst open. Shadows fell over the boys.

  “You—!” one of the cloaked men hissed.

  Eric scrambled up, eyes wide. “Kael, run—!”

  But it was too late.

  The strangers fanned out, surrounding them. Their leader’s calm voice cut through the air. “We’ve been compromised. Seal all entrances.”

  One mage—his eyes sharp, his grin cruel—stepped closer. “Well, well. Two little rats spying on us.” His tone carried mock amusement. “You boys are lucky. I’m feeling generous. Join us, and live. Refuse… and die.”

  Kael’s fists clenched. “We’re not joining you. Whatever you’re plotting—it’s wrong.” He glanced at Eric. “Right?”

  Eric hesitated. His eyes darted between the mages and Kael. “I… I…”

  “Eric?” Kael urged.

  Finally, Eric nodded. “Yeah. We won’t join you.”

  Another mage, voice sly, chuckled. “Foolish children. Don’t you want strength? Freedom? The chance to rise above this miserable place?”

  Kael’s heart pounded, but his voice came steady. “We don’t need your help. Kill us if you must—we won’t be your pawns.”

  For a moment, silence hung in the air. Then a third mage sneered. “Enough games. If they won’t join willingly… perhaps one of them will.” His eyes glittered. “Let’s offer them a choice. One lives. One dies.”

  Eric stiffened beside Kael.

  Kael spat. “You can go to hell. We’re not playing your twisted games.”

  But then—something shifted. Eric’s breathing grew ragged. His hands trembled. Slowly, he turned to Kael.

  “…I’m sorry.”

  Kael blinked. “What?”

  A sudden pain exploded in his chest. He looked down to see an iron rod piercing through him, Eric’s hands gripping it tight.

  Kael’s eyes widened in disbelief. “E…Eric?”

  Eric’s expression twisted into something Kael had never seen—desperation, envy, hunger. He smirked, though his eyes shone with madness. “I’m tired of being weak. Tired of being looked down on. If sacrificing you means I can rise higher… then so be it.”

  Kael staggered, blood filling his mouth. “Y-you… why…”

  He pushed the rod deeper, his smirk trembling through his grief. “If sacrificing you means I finally rise… then forgive me.”

  Kael’s voice was faint, his vision blurring. “You… betrayed me…”

  Eric’s smiled freely now. “No. You betrayed me the moment you were chosen.”

  Pain swallowed everything. Darkness closed in.

  And then—

  A voice.

  But it wasn’t a voice in the normal sense. It was like a chorus of whispers bleeding into one, echoing from inside his skull and from a place far beyond.

  “Little spark… do you think this is where you end?”

  Kael’s mind reeled. Who… who’s there?

  The whispers rippled, like laughter carried by a storm.

  “You wear my blood, and yet you crawl like an insect. Still… you clung to life. That is why I answer.”

  “Tch ........The ones who caged you feared the storm you carry.”

  Kael’s heart pounded in the void. Blood dripped from his lips. I don’t want to die. Not yet. Not like this.

  “Good. That hunger… that defiance. It is mine.”

  The darkness shifted. For an instant, Kael thought he saw an eye—vast, spiraling, watching him through the void. Its gaze burned straight into his soul.

  “You are sealed. Broken. Shackled by those who feared you. But I will loosen one chain. Take it, and breathe again… or sink here, forgotten.”

  Heat surged through his veins, fire and ice all at once, searing him from the inside out. The whispers coiled tighter, almost tender, almost cruel.

  “Rise, Kael. And remember… your life is no longer yours alone.”

  When his eyes snapped open, one of the mages was staring at him in horror.

  And then—blackout.

  Kael awoke to the sound of someone calling his name.

  “Kael! Stop lazing around!”

  His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment he wondered if he was dead. The familiar ceiling of the orphanage dormitory loomed above him. His chest ached, though when he touched it, there was no wound—only the faint memory of agony.

  A voice snapped again, sharp yet familiar. “Honestly, you’re the most troublesome boy in this place.”

  Kael turned his head. Standing in the doorway was Miss Alita, the woman who had raised him since he was a toddler. She was strict but kind, the closest thing he had to a mother.

  Blinking in confusion, Kael whispered, “Miss Alita…? Are you dead too?”

  Alita’s brow furrowed. “What nonsense are you spouting?” She strode across the room, hands on her hips. “Where were you last night? And where is Eric? He’s been missing since yesterday.”

  Kael’s breath hitched. Memories crashed back—the strangers, the secret meeting, the rod piercing his chest. Eric’s eyes… that twisted smirk.

  “I… I don’t know,” Kael muttered. His voice trembled. “I don’t know.”

  Alita’s sharp eyes softened, but then her expression shifted. She studied him more closely. “Kael… have you looked in the mirror today?”

  “Why would I—?” Kael turned his head toward the mirror across the room. The moment his gaze landed on his reflection, his blood ran cold.

  One of his eyes had changed.

  It glowed faintly, swirling with a spiral-like mark, dark and unnatural. Power pulsed in its depths, alive and watching.

  Kael stumbled back, clutching his face. “Ahhh—! My eye! What happened to my eye?!”

  Alita knelt, gripping his shoulders. “Kael, calm down. Tell me—how did you regain your eyes? That one was clouded when you were born.”

  “I don’t know!” Kael sobbed, fear shaking his body. “I—I heard a voice. When I was… dying. It said it would give me power. That’s all I remember!”

  Alita’s eyes widened slightly. She listened in silence as Kael poured out everything—the strangers, the meeting about the orphanage’s destruction, the betrayal, the voice that saved him.

  When he finished, Alita’s hands trembled against his shoulders. “So… they were after this place from the start. And Eric…” She exhaled shakily, closing her eyes. “I should have protected you. Both of you.”

  A knock came from downstairs, breaking the tense silence.

  “Miss Alita,” a servant called. “You have a visitor.”

  Alita stood abruptly. “Stay here, Kael. Don’t move an inch until I return. Do you understand?”

  Kael nodded numbly. She left, her footsteps fading.

  Alone, Kael stared at his reflection again. The swirling eye glowed faintly, a constant reminder of the voice in the darkness. He clenched his fists.

  Eric.

  The memory of betrayal burned in him. The iron rod. The smirk. The words—‘Why don’t you be a stepping stone for my success?’

  Kael’s lips curled into a trembling whisper. “Eric… when I find you, I’ll—”

  He froze.

  A voice drifted up from downstairs.

  “…I’m sorry about the death of Kael.”

  Kael’s heart stopped. He crept to the door, pressing his ear against it.

  Eric’s voice, low and strained, carried through the walls. “I wish time could reverse. I really wanted to help him. I was so helpless.”

  Kael’s chest constricted. He’s lying.

  Miss Alita’s reply came soft, almost soothing. “It’s okay, Eric. What’s done is done. But… who is this with you?”

  Another voice—calm, composed, and unfamiliar—spoke. “My name is Alex. I’ve come to adopt Eric. I trust that’s possible?”

  Adopt… Eric?

  Kael’s nails dug into the wood of the door.

  Downstairs, Alita’s silence lingered. Then she answered, wary but polite. “…Very well. Come this way, sir.”

  Alex’s voice followed smoothly. “Eric, why don’t you pack your belongings while I speak with Miss Alita?”

  Eric replied obediently. “Yes, sir.” His footsteps ascended the stairs.

  Kael stumbled back, panic rising. He’s coming here.

  His eyes darted to the window.

  The doorknob rattled.

  Kael’s glowing eye pulsed, swirling faster. His breath caught as the door began to creak open.