"Young Lord."
My eyes shifted to the doorway, where Alina stood, her silhouette framed by the warm glow of the setting sun. The sky outside had turned a rich shade of orange, casting long shadows across the room.
"Sir Zayn is here for you," she said with a slight bow.
I exhaled softly, my gaze turning back to Erina. She sat quietly, clutching the doll in her small hands, her expression falling as realization dawned.
"Looks like this is the end," I said with a small smile, picking up the doll that had been sitting in my lap and handing it back to her.
She nodded, but her ears drooped slightly, portraying her disappointment.
Looking at her like this, I couldn't help myself, I reached out and patted her head gently.
"The school is closed until the Harvest Festival, right?" I asked.
Her lavender eyes lifted to meet mine, shimmering with hope.
"Yes..."
"Then let's play every day until then," I promised.
Her face lit up instantly, her tail swaying with excitement. "Yes! Let's play every day!"
As I stepped outside, Zayn was waiting for me, his ever-present smirk in place.
"Enjoy yourself?" he asked, his tone light but knowing.
I simply nodded and walked past him, not in the mood for his teasing.
"Bye-bye, Lord Sieg!" Erina called, waving enthusiastically.
I glanced back at her and returned the wave.
"Take care, Lord Siegfried, Sir Zayn," Alina added, giving a polite bow. For just a brief moment, my eyes drifted, drawn to her well-filled curves before I could stop myself.
I clenched my jaw and quickly turned away. "Damn it, what am I doing?"
Shaking my head to rid myself of the thought, I started walking.
Then, a hand ruffled my hair.
"You've really grown up, huh?"
I scowled and looked up at the man beside me. "What do you mean?"
Zayn's smirk deepened. "Do you think I didn't notice you staring at Alina?"
Blood rushed to my face instantly. "What nonsense are you spouting?!" I stammered, my voice higher than I intended.
He laughed, a slow, infuriating chuckle that only made my embarrassment worse. "When did you start thinking about those things, huh? You're starting to think like a man now."
"None of your business!" I snapped, quickly looking away and walking ahead.
"Looks like you're really mad at me today," he mused, his tone still carrying that damned amusement.
I didn't reply. I just kept walking. But then...
"Is it about last night?"
I froze mid-step. My breath hitched. Slowly, my eyes widened.
"Oooh," Zayn drawled. "Looks like I hit the mark." His voice carried that same teasing lilt.
I glanced over my shoulder, my glare sharp enough to cut.
"Now, now, calm down, young man," he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "I just want to talk." His voice was infuriatingly smooth.
"And what if I'm not interested in listening to you?"
His smile didn't falter. "Oh? And why is that?"
I exhaled sharply, my patience hanging by a thread. "Arguing with a fool only proves there are two."
For a fraction of a second, something shifted in his gaze, surprise, maybe, or mild intrigue, but it vanished just as quickly as it came. Then, a chuckle. "Did you just metaphorically call me a fool?"
I scoffed and turned away, already resuming my stride.
"To think you are still asking," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.
Zayn suddenly stepped in front of me, dropping to one knee so we were at eye level. His usual smug demeanor had faded, replaced with something... more serious.
"Listen," he began, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want any bad blood between us. The relationship between your mother and me," he sighed, his gaze shifting, as if searching for the right words. "It's complicated. Not something easily explained, especially to a child."
I inhaled sharply letting go of the anger. "I know she's not a child," I muttered. "I know she's free to make her own choices. But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
I met his gaze, and for once, he wasn't smirking or brushing things off like a joke. His expression softened, and before I could react, his hand lifted, fingertips brushing against my cheek.
"In just a year, you've grown so much," he murmured, almost to himself.
Something in my chest twisted, not anger, not sadness, just... something unfamiliar. Was this some kind of tactic to make me lower my guard? But his touch felt warm, his gaze sincere.
"I know you feel like I've wronged you in some way," he continued. "So, let me make it up to you. However I can."
I studied his face, searching for even the slightest insincerity.
Make it up to me, huh?
"Good," I said, crossing my arms. "You can make it up to me."
Zayn raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk. "Oh? And how exactly would I do that?"
"First, let's go somewhere else," I said, glancing around. We were still standing in the middle of the street, and I wasn't about to have this conversation with prying eyes around.
"Ah, sure."
Ten minutes later, we were seated in the empty audience stands of the arena behind our manor. The soldiers who had been training here earlier had long since left, leaving behind only silence. Thankfully, no one had seen us on the way.
I cleared my throat, making sure he was paying attention. "Ahem. I have three conditions. Listen to them all before you say anything."
Zayn nodded, leaning back with an easygoing expression. "Go ahead, young lord~"
I shot him a sharp glare, and he chuckled, raising his hands defensively.
"First," I started, my voice firm, "treat my mother well. Don't you dare do anything that would hurt her, physically or mentally."
He kept his smile, but a flicker of surprise crossed his face; it was gone in an instant, masked beneath his usual unreadable expression.
"Second," I continued, my hands tightening into fists, "tell me who my father is. You know who he is, don't you?"
There was no change in his face or expression. But instead of answering, he asked me something in return.
"And the third?"
I held his gaze for a moment before reaching up and pulling off my eyepatch, revealing my right eye.
"Tell me about this."
For a long moment, he simply stared. Then, with a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, rubbing the back of his head as if debating how to respond.
"I can fulfill your first and third conditions…" His voice carried a weight I hadn't expected.
"But not the second."
Good. It's not like I expected him to agree to anything other than the first condition.
"I see," I muttered, my voice calm, but my mind was already shifting focus.
There was no point in pushing the second topic right now, perhaps another time. The third, though… that one gnawed at me.
"Tell me about the eye." I placed my hand over it, feeling the coolness of my fingers against my skin.
Zayn regarded me for a moment, his expression calm. Then he spoke, his tone serious.
"Do you know what a Blood Trait is?"
The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I blinked in confusion. Blood Traits... It was something I remembered reading about, vaguely, in passing.
A hereditary factor unique to specific bloodlines, determining extraordinary abilities or talents. These traits weren't random, they were passed down, woven into the very fabric of one's lineage. Some grew stronger through training, others through the purity of their ancestry. External influences could shape them, but they were always there, lurking in the blood.
"I have a gist of it," I replied.
"That's what it is," he said, his voice carrying a weight that settled deep in my chest. "Your eye is a very unique Blood Trait, one that manifests rarely."
I stiffened, surprised by his words. Blood Traits usually weren't so physical. They were subtle, hidden within one's magic. A fire-user with a 'Blood Trait' might conjure blue flames instead of red. A water mage could control blood instead of water. Earth magic could evolve into metal conjuration. But an eye? A white-pupiled eye?
"What type of Blood Trait is this?" I demanded.
Zayn sighed, shaking his head. "I don't have that answer."
"In all of history, this trait has only manifested four times," he continued. "And those who possessed it… they were secretive about their abilities. No records. No details."
Smart. If a Blood Trait was rare, it was dangerous. If it was dangerous, it made you a target. Hiding it would be the only way to survive.
To be born with something so rare... It was almost overwhelming. The idea that this strange trait was connected to me, something I could barely understand.
Was it a curse? Or a gift?
The uncertainty gnawed at my insides. The thought that this could come from my father filled me with an uncomfortable weight. But where was he? Was this his bloodline?
I exhaled slowly, trying to collect my thoughts, but the words escaped before I could stop them.
"To think I was born with a Blood Trait..." I trailed off, the weight of it sinking in.
Zayn's expression shifted then, a flicker of something in his eyes. "What are you talking about?" His voice lowered, softer now, almost like he was trying to impart something important. "The Fors family also possesses a Blood Trait."
My head snapped up, eyes locking onto him.
"It's superhuman physical abilities," Zayn said, his voice carrying an air of certainty.
I blinked. "Superhuman?"
Zayn nodded in response, "Remember three days ago, when you snapped a spoon clean in half between your fingers and thumb?"
The memory resurfaced instantly, the way the metal had crumpled in my grasp like paper. At the time, I had simply assumed it was poor craftsmanship. But now that I thought about it… it wasn't just a one-time occurrence.
Spoons. Cups. Door handles. All broken too easily, all dismissed as coincidences.
A shiver ran down my spine. No way…
I looked back at Zayn, searching his expression. "But… you're also incredibly strong. I've seen it firsthand, multiple times."
He chuckled. "That's true, but my strength is nothing compared to your mother's." His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something more serious. "If she and I were to fight without mana, she would win."
I stared at him, stunned.
Wow.
My mother was that strong? I had always known she was powerful, but to hear Zayn say it, to admit he would lose in a pure physical fight, was something else entirely.
I exhaled slowly, trying to process everything.
"That's all I can tell you about your eye," Zayn continued. His voice dropped slightly, more cautious now. "And don't tell your grandparents or your mother that I told you about it."
I met his gaze, understanding the weight behind his words. Whatever this Blood Trait was, there was a reason it was kept a secret.
I gave a firm nod. "Don't worry. I won't say a word."
"One more thing," Zayn said, crossing his arms. "Since I couldn't fulfill your second condition, ask for something else."
I hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Then… I promised Erina I would play with her every day until the Harvest Festival, but I don't want to skip my training or studies. What should I do?"
Zayn let out a low whistle and scratched the back of his head. "That's a tough one. Can't you just… ignore the promise?"
"...There aren't many demi-humans in town," I murmured, my voice quieter than before. "Even the few that exist… there aren't any around her age. From what I remember, the other children tease her for her features. She's all alone. I will not break my promise."
The words lingered in the air, heavy with the weight of something deeper within me. My past life's memories surfaced, unbidden: of being cast aside, of being isolated, wanting anyone to reach out.
I clenched my fists, pressing them against my knees.
Out of nowhere, a heavy hand clapped against my back. The sudden force nearly knocked me off the seat.
"Wha—?!" I looked at Zayn angrily, but he just threw his head back and laughed.
"So little, but already so responsible," he mused, shaking his head. Then, with a grin, he stood up. "Alright. Leave it to me."
I narrowed my eyes. "What are you planning?"
His smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"It's a surprise."
I didn't know what he was planning, but for now, I decided to trust him.
With that settled, we made our way back home. By the time we arrived, the sky had deepened into a rich navy, the stars peeking through the lingering traces of dusk. The warm glow of lanterns flickered through the windows of the mansion, casting long shadows along the path.
As soon as we stepped inside, Granny was waiting. Her arms were crossed, her foot tapping against the wooden floor with a sharp thud-thud-thud.
"You're late," she said, her voice carrying that dangerous calm that sent a shiver down my spine.
Zayn, the traitor, took a single step back, leaving me in the direct line of fire.
I forced a sheepish smile. "We, uh… lost track of time?"
Granny's eyes narrowed.
For a second, I thought we were doomed. But before she could unleash her fury, a servant entered to announce that dinner was ready.
I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding.
Dinner was a quiet affair, though Granny still shot me the occasional glare as if to remind me that I wasn't off the hook just yet. Zayn, of course, acted as if nothing had happened, chatting away without a care in the world.
Afterward, I retreated to my room, pulling a book from the shelf to read for a while. The pages blurred as exhaustion crept in, my eyelids growing heavier with each passing second.
Eventually, I gave in.
Sinking into the comfort of my bed, I let out a satisfied sigh. The day had been long, filled with unexpected revelations, but for now… I allowed sleep to claim me, pulling me into its warm embrace.
There was a thunderous bang, so loud that my heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I bolted upright, my blankets tangling around me as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings.
Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, a booming voice shattered the silence.
"Wakey-wakey!"
I snapped my head toward the door, eyes still heavy with sleep. There, standing like a menace to all things peaceful, was Zayn, grinning like he had just pulled off the greatest prank of his life.
Just what…? My brain struggled to catch up. I blinked sluggishly. "What the hell?" My voice was hoarse with sleep, barely above a murmur.
"Time to train!" Zayn announced cheerfully, clapping his hands together as if that would somehow get me moving.
I turned my head toward the window. The stars were still twinkling, their soft glow illuminating the twin moons hanging in the sky. Night hadn't even started fading into dawn yet.
"...It's still the middle of the night," I said, my voice flat.
Zayn shrugged, completely unfazed. "It's simple. If you can't train in the afternoon because of your promise, we train at dawn. After that, you'll be studying with Granny."
It took me a few seconds to process those cursed words. My sleep-addled brain sluggishly pieced together the horror of my situation.
"You can't be serious..." I muttered, rubbing my face.
Then, to my utter dread, a slow, wicked grin stretched across Zayn's face, one that sent a chill straight down my spine.
"Oh, you bet I am."
I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "I am starting to miss my old life…"
Back then, mornings were peaceful. I could wake up at my own pace, stretch lazily, and maybe even go back to sleep if I wanted. No surprise wake-up calls. No lunatics bursting into my room like a damn battering ram.
But now? Now I had this.
Zayn stood there, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. His wicked grin practically screamed, "I live to make your life miserable."
"Come on, young lord," he drawled, clearly enjoying my suffering. "You wouldn't want to break your promise to Erina, would you?"
That bastard. He knew exactly where to hit.
I groaned again, rolling over in bed, desperately clinging to the last remnants of warmth and comfort. "Just five more minutes…"
Zayn took a single step forward.
The floor creaked.
Instinct screamed at me.
I barely had time to react before, FWUMP!—my entire blanket was ripped off me, exposing me to the cruel, cold air.
"NOOO!" I yelped, scrambling to grab it back, but Zayn had already tossed it aside.
"You're wasting time," he said smugly.
I glared at him with the fury of a man who had just been betrayed by the universe itself. "You're evil."
He only chuckled. "I know."
I let out a long, suffering sigh, staring up at the ceiling. Is this my life now? Training before the sun even rises? Studying until my brain melts?
As Zayn grinned, dawn still far from breaking, I realized, this was only the beginning of my hellish training.