I felt a presence in the room.
I couldn't explain why.
But I felt it.
A chill ran down my spine, leaving me completely rigid.
I shot upright.
My eyes flew open as I looked around.
Nothing.
Just my room.
My things.
Everything exactly as it always was.
The sword in the corner—the one my brother gave me when I was little.
The pendant Helen gave me on my tenth birthday, matching hers.
Everything in place.
Everything… normal.
I let out a slow breath.
—I'm imagining things… —I muttered.
I lay back down.
But the moment my head touched the pillow…
I felt it again.
It wasn't a clear presence.
It was worse.
It was the feeling that something didn't fit.
That something…
was about to happen.
I tried to close my eyes.
I couldn't.
The silence in the room grew heavy.
Too heavy.
And then—
knock, knock
A sound at the door.
I flinched slightly.
—Ren, are you okay? —my brother's voice came from the other side.
I swallowed.
—Yeah… I'm fine —I replied, trying to sound normal—. Though you woke me up.
—Ah, well —he said casually—. Then I can come in without a problem.
Before I could say anything—
The door opened.
Elijah walked in and closed it behind him.
He approached calmly and sat on the edge of the bed.
His presence filled the room.
—Ren… —Elijah began, his tone more serious than usual—. I know you might not want to talk about it right now, but… can you tell me what happened?
He paused briefly.
—You seem off. And not just because of the bandages.
I looked away.
—It's not that I don't want to talk… —I said—. It's that nothing happened.
I tried to sound casual.
I failed.
Elijah watched me for a few seconds.
—Did you get into trouble with Luca or something?
I shook my head.
—No.
—You know you can tell me anything —he added—. I can help you.
For a moment…
I hesitated.
My brother was strong. Stronger than anyone I knew.
If anyone could do something… it was him.
But that thought faded almost as quickly as it came.
The promise.
And above all…
The doubt.
What good would it do to tell him?
Was he going to go to that house alone?
What if that man wasn't even there anymore?
—Really, Elijah… I'm fine —I insisted—. It was just a stupid hit.
Elijah let out a small sigh.
—Alright. I won't push.
He stood up from the bed.
—But if you ever want to talk… I'll be here.
For a second, the atmosphere relaxed.
But it didn't last.
Suddenly, his attitude shifted completely.
He stood in front of me, adopting a firm stance.
—Well —he said—. Since we're here… want to train?
I stared at him, incredulous.
—Again? —I blurted—. We already trained this morning! You're being annoying.
Elijah smiled.
—Maybe.
He shrugged.
—But there's less than a week left until the exam. I need to polish everything.
His tone shifted slightly.
More serious.
—We don't even know what it'll be like this year.
He was right.
That exam…
was no ordinary test.
It was held only once every five years.
And in the last ten…
no one had passed.
The court mages themselves designed the trials.
And everyone knew what that meant.
Impossible tests.
Made so no one could succeed.
If it was already hard just to qualify—you needed to be rank A or higher—this made it almost absurd.
—Yeah… —I murmured—. That's true.
I looked at him.
—But even so… I don't think you'll have any trouble. You'll stand out among all of them.
Elijah smiled.
But this time, it wasn't a carefree smile.
—Only if I train.
Right then—
knock, knock
Someone knocked at the door.
My brother calmly walked out of the room.
I stayed on the bed, silent, listening.
I heard him open the door.
—Hello… who are you? —Elijah asked.
There was a brief pause.
—I'm a friend of Ren. I came to see him.
That voice…
I jumped to my feet.
Before I reached the door, I heard my brother speak again, this time more surprised.
—Tarin? I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?
—I'm good… —he replied—. Not bad.
—Glad to hear it —Elijah said—. I'll call Ren, wait here.
At that moment, I stepped out of my room.
Elijah turned and, upon seeing me, gestured with his head.
—You've got a visitor.
I approached.
—Hey, Tarin —I said—. What are you doing here?
Tarin looked at me directly.
—I wanted to talk to you… alone. Do you have time?
There was something strange in his tone.
More serious than usual.
—Yeah, sure —I said—. I wasn't doing anything important.
I glanced at my brother with a slight smile.
Elijah raised an eyebrow.
—Wow… what a coincidence.
—Great —Tarin said—. Then… want to take a walk?
I nodded.
—Sure.
—Well —Elijah cut in, crossing his arms—. I guess I'll have to train alone this time…
His tone sounded almost dramatic.
As if he expected me to change my mind.
—It's not that different from training with me, right? —I replied with a laugh—. Besides, you can practice other things.
Elijah sighed, resigned.
He stepped closer and gave me a light push toward the door.
—Alright, alright. Go already.
He paused briefly.
—But don't be too late. You still have to cook dinner.
I clicked my tongue.
And we left.
Tarin and I started walking aimlessly.
For the first few minutes, neither of us spoke.
But it wasn't like before.
It wasn't that comfortable silence I was used to with him.
This…
felt heavy.
Dense.
As if every step dragged something neither of us wanted to say.
We walked through Luminalia, my city for as long as I could remember.
This time, we weren't moving away from the center.
We were heading toward it.
The streets began to change little by little.
Wooden houses gave way to larger buildings.
More refined.
Whiter.
More perfect.
Too perfect.
Decorated balconies, polished columns, golden details.
Each house seemed to try to outdo the last.
As if they were competing in silence.
We kept walking until we reached a viewpoint.
A stone railing guarded the edge.
From there…
you could see the entire city.
All of Luminalia my city since I was little and the capital.
The wind blew softly.
And even so…
it didn't ease the feeling weighing on me.
Then Tarin spoke.
—You know why I wanted to talk to you, right, Ren?
I didn't look at him.
—I can guess.
A brief silence followed.
—I'm terrified —he said finally.
I looked at him.
It wasn't an exaggeration.
You could see it.
—That man… terrifies me.
He swallowed.
—I don't know exactly why.
He paused.
—But every time I think about him… I get a chill.
I nodded slowly.
—It happens to me too.
Tarin shook his head.
—No… it's not the same.
His voice dropped.
—It's not just him.
I looked at him more carefully this time.
—It's what I saw.
The air seemed to grow colder.
—His past… —he murmured—. His future…
He frowned, as if struggling to remember.
—I can't explain it well. Everything is… distorted.
I clenched my fists slightly.
—But there's one thing I'm sure of.
I looked at him.
—Something is going to happen.
He paused.
More tense.
—And it's not anything good.
Silence returned.
Heavier than before.
I tried to downplay it.
—I don't think we should worry that much —I said—. Yeah, it was scary… but that's it. We got out of there.
I gestured toward my bandaged arm.
—Well… more or less.
I tried to joke.
It didn't work.
Tarin didn't even smile.
—We should ask your brother for help.
The answer came out faster than I expected.
—No.
Tarin frowned.
—Why not? You know he could handle this.
I shook my head.
—He already has enough to worry about.
I looked out over the city.
—The exam is in less than a week.
I gripped the railing tightly.
—I'm not going to distract him with this. Besides… we promised not to tell anyone.
Tarin lowered his gaze for a moment.
—You're right… —he murmured—. But I think this is beyond us.
I frowned.
—I don't know why you say that. We just have to forget about it. It can't be that hard.
Silence.
Tarin didn't respond immediately.
When he finally spoke, his voice was different.
Lower.
Heavier.
—You still don't understand, Ren.
I looked at him.
And for the first time since the conversation started…
I felt a knot in my stomach.
—After seeing that man… —he continued—
—After seeing his future…
He clenched his fists.
—Your future has changed.
The world seemed to stop for a second.
—What…? —I murmured.
But he wasn't finished.
He looked up.
And this time, there was no doubt in his eyes.
Only fear.
—And not just yours.
He paused.
A pause that felt far too long.
—All of ours.