The Sky That Burned Differently

Lucius Tomburn took his first breath beneath a sky that shimmered like molten glass. Cracks of blue fire streaked across the clouds, and the ground pulsed like a living thing — as if the world itself had noticed his arrival.

He was alone. But not abandoned.

The wind whispered names in languages no creature should have known. Somewhere far away, mountains screamed with falling stone. Trees twisted upward like they were trying to escape gravity itself. This place was alive with broken rules — and Lucius felt every one of them in his blood.

He stood slowly. He wasn’t a child, not exactly. His body was grown, tall and lean, built like a blade. But his mind was full of holes. Memories flickered just out of reach: fire, wings, battles, and voices chanting in a circle. One face kept returning — an old demon with cracked horns and eyes full of sorrow.

“Morvath,” Lucius whispered.
The name felt like ash in his mouth.

He didn’t know how he knew it, only that it mattered.

A strange mark burned on his chest — a spiral of red and gold, pulsing faintly with energy. He reached up to touch it, and when his fingers brushed the skin, the world shimmered again. For a split second, he saw other worlds through the haze — some full of ice, others soaked in blood, others silent and empty. He felt their weight press against him like walls closing in.

“What... am I?” he asked aloud.

From behind a warped tree, a voice answered.

“A mistake,” it hissed. “Or a prophecy.”

Lucius turned. A figure stepped into view — cloaked in robes stitched from shadows, its face hidden behind a cracked porcelain mask. It carried a long staff shaped like a twisted spine, and the air around it rippled with ancient magic.

“Who are you?” Lucius asked.

“A Watcher,” the figure replied. “Sent to see if you would wake... or die screaming.”

The Watcher tilted its head.

“The Justice Parliament debates your fate as we speak. You’ve been born from forbidden threads. You’re not supposed to exist. Some want to kill you. Others want to use you.”

Lucius stared at him, unblinking. “And what do you want?”

“To see what you choose.”
“To see if you will become a god...”
“...or a weapon.”

The world shifted again. A tremor split the ground near them, and dark smoke rose like a serpent. Something was coming — something fast, and old, and hungry.

The Watcher turned sharply toward the horizon.

“They’ve found you already. Soul Reapers. Sent by the Parliament.”

Lucius felt fire stir in his blood. His mark blazed.

“Then they’ll find more than they expected.”

To Be Continued...