Soul-Mess

The Moonlight

Third Person's POV

Lucien Sylen Arcanis woke up in a gasp.

The first thing he saw was an old wooden ceiling that seemed not to be clean, and the golden light that came from the only light in that room. The room he was in felt like it had grown so old that it would eventually blow out.

He sat up clutching his chest tightly for an unknown reason.

Something was wrong. Not the room. Not the air. Not the place where he is.

But it's HIM.

He looked around, his eyes landed in the old and scattered furniture of the orphanage dormitory. The other boys who've been with him since he doesn't know, still snore beneath their old-patched blankets. He looked at one of his friends who was muttering something about apples in his sleep. He slightly laughed at what he had just witnessed.

Upon looking at his surroundings. Lucien didn't feel like he belonged to that place. Not truly. Not anymore.

He slid out of the bed carefully, bare ffet pressing against the stone floor. The dream—or was it really a dream? Or a part of him—a memory? Still lurking in his mind.

Moonlight on Crystalized towers.

A sound of crying?

A boy who has white skin, violet eyes "like his now" and a light flowing like magic on his veins all over his body.

Lucien had never seen that place not the boy. But somehow, he "missed him". Terribly.

--

Later that morning, as the orphanage manager assigned chore to the children, Lucien found himself sweeping the fallen leave in the backyard of the orphanage. The sun that is above the horizon, and the light made the world to sharp, loud and bright. Trees that accompany him in there, but not enough to shelter him from the heat.

He blinked up at it, and that's when it happened.

The wind blows widely, blowing away the leaves he had gathered.

Then something unexplainable happened. The wind gathered the leaves again and it goes in front of him, forming into a shape of the person he had seen in his dreams, it's like the wind is following a command.

Lucien stared at it, not daring to breathe.

Then someone suddenly shouted behind him. The spell—if it's even a spell—broke.

The leaves falls in front of him like it's a mountain, gathered in one place.

"LUCIEN!" called Mistress Kelda, storming towards him holding her long skirt with a ladle in her other hand. "Stop playing, you little spell-bent bastard! You think you're some great spellcaster?"

"I—I didn't—" he stammered, lowering his head.

She slapped the laddle in his arm. "I said you need to CLEAN EVERYTHING in this backyard!" She shouted again in front of his face. "If you didn't clean this good, then don't eat! You BASTARD!" She shouted that while pointing on Lucien's head. "Make sure to clean this today, or else!" Mistress Kelda said, then stormed back to the orphanage. Tomorrow the emperial soldiers will stay in they're orphanage since it's spacious, and it's also on their way, so they will have a stop over there, this always happened so it's nothing new for the children in the orphanage. Lucien look at the way where Mistress Kelda walk, and a tear falls in his eyes, but he wipe it off, then countinue to clean the backyard.

---

That night, Lucien curled into his bed, eyes wide open staring at the old ceiling. He felt different now, like something wants to come out off him—that had been waiting.

What is wrong with me? he wondered. Why does it feel like something's missing?

And then, faintly, he whispered through the wind, like a natural word for him to say , a word that he's been meaning to heard.

A name.

:"Renzo"

He never heard that name. He don't know who owns that. And yet—he did. He could feel someone else's heartbeat, echoing inside him like a fading drum.

For an 11 years old kid, he could feel his heartbeat skipping with just an unknown name.

---

Across the world, in the hollow silence of the Silverstone altar, the prince's body lay still.

But far beyond, his soul pulsed—thin and golden tread stretched through realms.

And Lucien who was actually died the same day as the prince of that crystal towers, had comeback to life without realizing it, had become part of the fate. The one fate never meant to carry a crown.