The former heir opened his eyes. For a moment, his vision blurred, and the world was reduced to pale light and muffled noise. Then shapes resolved, followed by faces, and the first coherent thought to crash into Marcus Halgrave's mind was that this had to be a nightmare. Not the metaphorical kind. A genuine, physical nightmare. The kind that made him wish he were still unconscious, tumbling in that endless inner world. Because looming over him were four heads, stacked like curious puppies staring into a food bowl.
His siblings.
No, worse.
His siblings hovering with the exact same fascination they once showed when newborn Emily had been first placed in a crib. They crowded in so tightly that Marcus felt he might suffocate beneath their collective enthusiasm. His hearing returned slowly, voices overlapping, soft at first, then clearer.
He groaned. He had not cried in over ten years, yet some primal memory stirred inside him, whispering to his soul that the correct response to this situation was absolutely, unquestionably, to cry.
The first to speak was Ronald, who had never once in his life read a room.
"Okay that is so fucking cool."
His words echoed louder than necessary, drawing stifled snorts from the other siblings.
"Why did Mikail leave? This is so sick. Ah shit, I should not swear around the baby."
Though five minutes younger than Mikail, Ronald was universally recognized as the youngest in spirit. Noble etiquette eluded him. He had once bowed to the wrong royal house and only realized two days later.
"Need I remind you, brother, that I am FIFTEEN, not FIVE!" Emily snapped.
Her voice was as small as her stature, but she compensated with pure intensity.
"You are three years older than me!"
Ronald shrugged. "And yet look at you. So smol. Like a snack cake."
She kicked him in the shin. He yelped and withdrew.
Marcus blinked. The room was spinning, his senses still adjusting. Aside from the chaos before him, he felt something else. Something new. A hum beneath his skin, like a dormant current waiting to spark.
Before he could process it, Gemma spoke.
"Okay little one, it is alright. Tell big sis all about it."
She swept Emily into an embrace so constricting that Emily's protests dissolved into muffled curses. Gemma's grip had always been deceptively strong. Even now, Emily's arms flailed helplessly. Marcus rubbed his eyes. He pushed himself upright with a slow exhale, then spoke with absolute sincerity.
"What the fuck is going on."
Gemma froze. Ronald wheezed with laughter.
"Oh my days," Gemma whispered.
"Holy shit," Ronald echoed.
"Brother can swear?" Emily asked, eyes wide with betrayal and fascination.
"Seriously, that is what gets your attention?" Marcus muttered, rubbing his face. "When it is not an official setting I do not exactly cling to noble decorum."
He cleared his throat and sat straighter, tone a little more controlled.
"So. Anyone going to explain?"
Ronald inhaled deeply, eyes glittering with chaos. A mistake. Marcus could tell.
"Well wittwe Emily was missing hew big bwover so we—"
Emily slapped the back of his head before he could finish. Ronald retaliated by flicking her forehead. A scuffle ensued in the corner. Punches, slaps, very little dignity. Gemma sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Enough. All of us came once we heard you awakened," she said, her tone carrying the authority that only the future queen could wield. The younger two fell silent.
Marcus took a breath. His thoughts drifted momentarily to that other place, the abyss where he met the being that shared his face and yet did not. The memory tugged at him, sharp and real. His body still felt faintly cold, as if the void clung to him in traces.
Gemma crossed her arms.
"Tell me, brother. What is the most obvious trait someone displays after their awakening?"
Marcus hesitated. His first thought was aura, but that could not be right. He had never sensed auras prior, so how would he detect his own? He looked around the room. Gemma, Emily, Ronald… and the air around them felt clearer than before, though that was more intuition than sense. Then it struck him.
"The eyes," he answered.
Gemma smiled.
"Correct. The eyes undergo a transformation. Pupils change shape. Irises shift color. Every awakened individual displays their core through their gaze."
Marcus nodded slowly. He recalled his conversation with… himself. His alter. The one he could not yet understand.
"So, can you tell what my core is?" he asked quietly.
Gemma did not respond with words. Instead, she produced a small mirror from her pocket and placed it into his hand.
He looked. His breath froze. His pupil was snow white. His iris a piercing violet. And his sclera… black. The part that should always remain white.
Marcus stared. His heart thudded once. Twice. Then accelerated. He had traveled the palace, met countless awakened individuals, studied their abilities, and yet… no one. No one had ever possessed such a pattern. The mirror trembled in his hand. His eyes looked like night inverted. Eyes that belonged to something that should not exist.
Gemma read his expression.
"As you can see," she said softly, "your eyes are a mystery."
Marcus swallowed. Ronald and Emily had abandoned their fight and now stared at him, faces pale. A strange silence settled. Even Ronald could not find the words.
Gemma clasped Marcus's shoulder, grounding him.
"Father has summoned both of us. He wants to speak immediately."
Marcus blinked. The words weighed heavily.
"Both of us?" he repeated.
Gemma nodded.
"I will go first. You say your goodbyes. The little ones are leaving on an expedition in one hour, so do not make them late."
She squeezed Emily's and Ronald's hands and left the room with quiet purpose. The door clicked shut, leaving Marcus alone with the chaos incarnate that was his younger siblings. Emily climbed onto the side of the bed and leaned close.
"Does it hurt?" she whispered.
Marcus shook his head.
"No. Just strange."
Ronald sat cross-legged on the floor.
"Brother, you look kinda terrifying. Like… villain terrifying. Very cool."
Marcus snorted, despite himself. Emily smacked Ronald.
"He is not a villain, you idiot."
Ronald shrugged.
"I did not say he was. I said he looks like one. There is a difference."
Marcus chuckled faintly. The sound felt foreign coming from his throat, like he was re-learning his own emotions. He ruffled Emily's hair.
"I am alright. Truly."
She did not believe him. He could see it in her eyes. But she nodded anyway, clutching his sleeve tightly.
Ronald leaned forward.
"So what did it feel like? Awakening? It is different for everyone,. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours"
Marcus hesitated. His mind flashed with images. The endless fall. The shifting shapes. The voice that sounded like him and not him. He felt the phantom sensation of abyssal wind scrape his bones.
"It was…" Marcus began, then paused. "Hard to explain. I will tell you both one day."
Ronald lit up. Emily nodded with solemn seriousness. Marcus took a slow breath. His mind was still foggy, still half-tethered to that void. He remembered the rules of the alter, the three questions, the core that waited within. He wondered which of them now stared back from the mirror.
Outside the medical ward, footsteps echoed. A soft reminder. Time was moving again.
Marcus looked between his siblings.
"Stay safe," he said.
Emily hugged him tight. Ronald punched his shoulder lightly, in the most affectionate way he knew.
"We will bring you a souvenir," Ronald grinned.
They left together, Emily scolding him for promising things he could not guarantee. Their laughter trailed down the corridor.
Marcus exhaled. The room felt emptier now. He could still feel the lingering warmth of his siblings, the chaotic love that wrapped around him like a blanket.
His gaze drifted back to the mirror. To the black sclera. The violet iris. The white pupil. He could not decide whether this new gaze belonged to a king or a monster. But he knew one thing with certainty: whatever he had met in the abyss was now watching through his eyes. Quiet. Patient. Waiting.
He rose from the bed.
Father was waiting.