In a small, humble home, where the scent of rich soil clung to everything, Jane, the wife of the poor farmer William, gave birth to a healthy baby boy. The infant, innocent and new to the world, seemed almost to glow, as if touched by something ethereal. "Oh, he is truly blessed by the Goddess Ryra!" the Priest exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as he studied the child's destiny. "How wonderful! This boy is destined to be a hero!"
A messenger was immediately dispatched to the capital, bearing the news directly to the King. Turning back to the beaming parents, the Priest smiled. "The King will handsomely reward your family for this miracle." The words hung in the air, a promise of a future utterly unlike anything William and Jane had ever known.
William beamed, his weathered face alight with pride. "That's my boy! A hero! We have to give him a name befitting of a hero."
"How about Lucien?" Jane asked softly, her eyes, usually dulled by hardship, shining with a newfound hope.
William nodded, his smile wide. "That is a fine name. Lucien, the blessed, our hero." A messenger was immediately dispatched to the capital, bearing the news directly to the King. Turning back to the beaming parents, the Priest smiled. "The King will handsomely reward your family for this miracle." The words hung in the air, a promise of a future utterly unlike anything William and Jane had ever known.
William and Jane's lives were transformed by the arrival of Lucien. The King's rewards flowed, not just financially, but with a noble title and vast lands that lifted them from poverty's grasp forever. But it was the Goddess Ryra's divine blessing that truly set Lucien apart. Every burp was a miracle, every giggle a sign of his destiny. He was a beautiful, healthy child, with a bright spark in his blue eyes and a shock of blonde hair that seemed to catch the sunlight even indoors. His parents, once weary and downtrodden, poured all their newfound hope and energy into their 'hero' son.
Lucien knew no want. The best food, the finest clothes his family's new wealth could buy, and toys crafted by skilled hands were always at his fingertips. His days were filled with endless praise and doting affection. If he stumbled, it was endearing. If he cried, it was a sign of his sensitive spirit. He quickly learned that his smile could soothe any frown, and his charming whims were always indulged. The village, too, watched him with reverence, eager to catch a glimpse of their blessed future hero.
When Lucien turned seven, a vibrant, golden-haired boy brimming with his parents' doting affection, Jane found herself pregnant with her second child. Both Jane and William held onto a desperate hope: that this child, too, would be just as exceptional, as blessed, as their celebrated firstborn.
But their hopes shattered at midnight, when Jane gave birth to Caelan. There was no divine glow, no radiant aura that had marked Lucien's arrival. The attending priest recoiled, his voice dripping with disgust. "This child was born under a cursed sign... No blessing. No destiny." He spoke as if the very air around the infant was tainted, refusing to even touch him.
William's gaze snapped to Jane, his face contorted with a venomous rage. "Fucking whore! This child isn't my son. You must have fucked someone!" He spat the words, then turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving her trembling.
One of the younger maids, her hands still holding the freshly cleaned and swaddled infant, hesitantly offered him to Jane. "Madam, what should we name him?"
Jane flinched away, her eyes cold, refusing to even look at the baby. "I don't care what you call that bastard..."
An older maid, Sandra, watched the scene unfold, her heart aching for the abandoned infant. Taking the small, innocent bundle into her arms, she felt an instant, fierce love bloom. "Then his name will be Caelan," Sandra declared softly, taking him as her own.
From that day forward, Caelan's world was the neglected, older wing of the house, isolated from the grandeur of the main estate. Sandra became Caelan's sole source of love and comfort. She was the only maid permitted near him, his lone companion and protector in a childhood defined by isolation and neglect. To provide for him, Sandra tirelessly sought milk from a shady shopkeeper in town, the only one willing to sell to her, hinting at the stigma Caelan's presence brought upon the household.
Her dedication came at a steep price. Sandra, once the respected head maid, was demoted, her pay brutally cut. Despite this, she did everything within her diminished means to care for the boy, a silent testament to a loyalty and love Caelan would receive from no one else in his privileged, yet cruel, home.
Though forbidden from seeing Caelan, Lucien nursed a bitter hatred for the baby boy he barely knew, seeing him as the harbinger of discord. With Caelan's birth, the doting love his parents once shared vanished, replaced by a palpable tension, and their father's cruel mistreatment of their mother became a constant, ugly presence.
As Caelan grew and his needs shifted from milk to solid food, Sandra's desperate measures deepened. The family sent only scraps and spoiled food to Caelan's isolated wing, food unfit for a growing boy. To ensure his survival, Sandra resorted to stealing food from the main house. Luckily, her years of service had given her an intimate knowledge of the manor's secret passages, allowing her to slip in and out undetected, a silent guardian risking everything for the child no one else wanted.
Fifteen years after his heralded birth, Lucien was a striking figure, his golden hair and confident smile captivating everyone, just as the prophecies foretold. A letter arrived from the King, a royal summons to Clearwater School – an esteemed academy renowned for forging noble children into formidable knights and heroes. William and Jane, though their own marriage had long since withered into a barren landscape devoid of affection, and their hearts held no warmth for their youngest son, found common ground in their boundless love for Lucien. They decided to host a lavish party, a grand celebration for their exceptional boy.
Of course, Caelan and Sandra were strictly forbidden from the main house during the festivities, confined to their damp, forgotten wing. As the distant sounds of merriment drifted through the manor, Sandra, exhausted from her tireless efforts, finally dozed off while reading Caelan a worn storybook.
It was in that quiet, isolated space that something impossible happened. A transparent screen shimmered into existence before Caelan's startled eyes, its ethereal glow casting dancing shadows on the walls.
"Reward for the birthday boy... System unlock," text scrolled across the luminous surface, crisp and immediate. Then, a detailed stat screen materialized:
Caelan VictosLevel: 1Race: Human/Dragon Hybrid (Formerly Human)Health: 300MP: 1,000Strength: 20Stamina: 1,000Agility: 30Defense: 80Intelligence: 100Charm: 20Luck: 1
Skills:
Draconian Physiology: The user is either born or nursed by a dragon. This gives the user the ability to transform or partially transform into a dragon. However, a full transformation can continuously drain 2 MP per minute.
Draconian Magic: The user can use Draconian Magic.
Mana Absorption: The user can absorb the mana around him, making his mana pool expand.
Spiritual Awareness: The user can be aware of spirits and can commune with them.
Caelan stared, his light purple eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "What is this?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. As if in response to his words, the glowing screen instantly vanished, leaving him alone in the dim room, the silence now thrumming with an entirely new, impossible truth.