The morning arrived with a pale, indifferent sun. Priestess Valerius was waiting at the village square, her carriage etched with solar runes that seemed to hum in the morning mist.

  Kael and Elena stood by, their faces a map of conflicting emotions—pride for the son who was leaving, and a lingering dread for the one who remained. Joran clutched his small travel bag, his gaze fixed on me.

  "Your Eminence," Kael said, bowing his head. "Joran has made his choice. He will go to the Dawnspire."

  Valerius smiled, her warmth radiating even in the chilly air. "The Sun God smiles upon this decision, Kael. The boy will be a beacon for us all." She turned her gaze to me, her eyes softening with that same confusing pity. "And you, little one? Are you prepared to let your light go for a time?"

  I stepped forward. I didn't hide behind Joran’s legs this time. I looked directly into her eyes—eyes that had seen the highest levels of holiness—and I spoke. My voice was thin, but it held a clarity that made the Priestess blink in surprise.

  "Light is not a physical tether, Priestess," I said. "If Joran’s purpose is to become a sun, he cannot do so while trapped in the shade of this village. My 'hollowness' is not a sickness he can cure by staying. It is a state of being. Logic suggests that his departure is the only path to his peak."

  The square went silent. Elena gasped slightly at the complexity of my speech. Valerius’s smile faltered, replaced by a look of profound intrigue. I was four years old, yet I spoke with the cadence of a scholar who had outlived his peers.

  "You have a strange mind, child," Valerius whispered, leaning down. "So much thought for one so small. Do you not feel the sadness of his leaving?"

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  "Sadness is a reaction to perceived loss," I replied, my red eyes unblinking. "I lose a shield, but I gain the space to observe the world without interference. It is an acceptable trade."

  Joran dropped his bag and knelt, pulling me into a fierce embrace. He smelled of woodsmoke and the golden mana that was already beginning to thrum more insistently in his veins.

  "I'll be back in a year," Joran whispered into my ear, his voice thick with a vow. "I’m going to learn things you wouldn't believe, Satan. I’m going to find the logic behind that void of yours. I’ll bring back an answer. I promise."

  "Do not look for answers that do not exist, brother," I said, pulling back just enough to look at him. "Just look for power. The world respects the sun, but it fears the eclipse. Become the sun so that I may remain the shadow."

  He didn't fully understand, but he nodded, wiping a stray tear from his cheek. He climbed into the carriage, and Valerius gave me one final, lingering look—a look that said she had finally noticed that the "empty" child was far more dangerous than she had initially calculated.

  As the carriage rumbled away, disappearing into the tree line toward the capital, Kael placed a heavy hand on my shoulder.

  "He's gone, Satan," my father said heavily. "It’s just us now."

  I looked at the empty road. My heart rate was steady. My mind was a clear, frozen lake. For the first time since I had been birthed into this world of blood and light, I was alone. No golden mana to mask me. No protective brother to stand in the way.

  "Good," I whispered.

  "What was that?" Elena asked, reaching for my hand.

  "It is time to begin," I said, looking at the dark woods behind our house. "The vessel needs to be filled, and the sun is no longer here to watch me do it."

  I turned and walked back toward the house, my white hair catching the wind. I was four years old, and I finally had the solitude required to turn my "Marble" from a leaking dam into a refined weapon.