Three weeks since the alley death and this bizarre rebirth, and I'd settled into the rhythm of palace life—mostly. Now, I sat at the long obsidian dining table in the sunlit solar, picking at a plate piled high with ABO delicacies fit for royalty.
Honeyed fire-berries glistened ruby-red, their tart-sweet juice bursting with subtle pheromonal enhancers to soothe pre-presentation teens like me. Flaky spiced pastries oozed creamy nut filling laced with calming chamomile and omega-bloom petals, steam rising in fragrant curls.
Beside them sat slices of mist-forest venison, seared rare and drizzled in a rich alpha-fern reduction that carried an earthy, invigorating kick—meant to build strength without triggering early scents.
Emperor Lirien, my alpha mother—or father in empire terms—sat to my right, her sharp features framed by cropped raven hair, exuding commanding presence in her tailored military tunic. To my left, Empress Elowen, my omega mother, radiant with soft curves and flowing auburn waves, her vanilla-warm scent calming the air.
Dad shot me a weird look, one arched brow piercing as she watched me poke at the fire-berries with a silver fork. "Are you now rebelling by playing with your meal, Alexander?"
"Love, why are you toying with the food?" Mom chimed in gently, her hand brushing mine, fingers warm and reassuring.
Both were utterly good-looking—Lirien was handsome in a rugged, battle-hardened way, jaw set like carved stone; Elowen breathtakingly beautiful, eyes sparkling like forest pools. I was their mix—Lirien's lean build and olive eyes, Elowen's delicate face, and silver hair. Lucky me—pretty enough to turn heads, deadly enough to end them. Maybe I shouldn't be proud about this.
"I was just thinking about something," I muttered, spearing a juicy fire-berry but not eating it.
Dad leaned forward, her voice a low rumble. "What's on your mind, son?"
"Can we break my engagement?" The words tumbled out blunt, no princely polish. My fiancée haunted my thoughts—ice queen fiancée, plot-twist villainess. Better cut ties before she struck first. She hated me... or, my predecessor, and my predecessor also hated her.
Dad's eyes narrowed, exchanging a loaded glance with Mom. "No, we can't. That alliance seals our power. That's why I told you we should have another child—strengthen the line without that girl, and this child of ours. But you told that only one child is fine."
Mom blushed crimson, fanning herself with a napkin, her scent spiking sweet. "Darling, can we not discuss this in front of the child?"
"Yes, please don't," I echoed, fighting a smirk.
The breakfast chatter faded as servants cleared the plates of half-eaten fire-berries and venison, leaving me to my thoughts. Three weeks in this body, and I'd adapted fast. Emperor Lirien—Dad, in my head now—had dragged me to the training grounds daily, her Alpha commands booming as she taught swordplay.
Basic forms, lunges, parries—it was child's play compared to alley brawls and chain whips. Too clunky, I thought, flexing my fingers. Daggers suited me perfect: quick, silent, lethal. But I couldn't tell her that.
Empress Elowen—Mom—handled the magic lessons in the warded gardens, her gentle voice guiding my hands through glowing runes. I had a killer aptitude for it, just like her—spells snapping to life on my first tries. Power hummed in my veins, raw and addictive, tying straight into the world's magic weave.
This world's magic wasn't some vague force; it pulsed through everything, drawn from the Aetheric Veil—an invisible web of ley lines crisscrossing the land, fuelled by ABO dynamics.
Everyone had a spark, but presentation unlocked true potential: Alphas channelled raw power, Omegas finesse and intuition. I sorted it in my head from Mom's lessons and OG Alexander's memories. Both genders can use magic, but their forms were different. Alphas used strong form of magic, while omegas used refined but weak form of magic.
Elemental Magic ruled the battlefield—fireballs scorching foes, ice spears impaling armies, earth quakes swallowing cavalry, wind blades slicing air. Basic for warriors; I could already summon a flame whip, crackling hot like my old chain. Every form of elemental magic—I can easily use them efficiently.
Divine Magic came from the Twin Gods—solar Astra for healing light bursts and buffs, lunar Nyx for curses and illusions. Priests and emperor like Lirien favoured it; she'd shown me a blessing that mended a sparring cut in seconds, golden light sealing flesh with holy warmth. Because she is my father, I can use divine magic.
Necromancy was taboo, whispered in shadows—raising undead hordes from battlefields, siphoning life force for immortality. Villains dabbled, like rumours of my fiancée's family. Mom warned it twisted the soul, leaving users hollow-eyed and scentless.
Summoning pulled beasts or spirits from the Veil—phoenixes for Alphas, ethereal wolves for Omegas. High-risk; a botched call could bind the caster instead. I'd glimpsed Lirien summon a shadow drake once, its wings blotting the sun. She told me that after my differentiation—she would teach me how to summon.
Then the exotics—Arcane for raw manipulation. It's function was to manipulate objects around us.
Telekinesis was a rare form of magic. Use of barrier magic, and enchantments on blades—was rare, but at the same time—it was common among the nobles.
Blood Magic, ABO-exclusive—Alphas amplified strength via rut-fuelled sacrifices—means continuous sex, Omegas wove empathy spells from heat essence which was creepy as hell—so, I would just ignore it. Although the name sounds too 'ominous' but it was just sex.
Chronomancy is the rarest magic in the Farrel Empire, whispered as the 'Emperor's Curse' because only those of imperial blood—like Dad—can wield it without their soul unravelling. It bends time in razor-sharp bursts, no grand rewinds or prophecies, just tactical slices against the Veil's flow. But this was kept secret from everyone—except me, Mom, and Dad. It's for the royal family's protection.
Soul Weaving is the pinnacle art, blending all magics into a personal symphony—elemental fury laced with divine light, necromantic shadows dancing with summons. If a person can do this form of magic, then... they can do any type of magic.
And I can use Soul Weaving.