UNEXPECTED STRIKES

"Darius, call your brother in!" Mother's voice echoed with an urgency that cut through the morning stillness.

Darius darted down the hill, his small frame moving quickly despite the uneven terrain. I was seated on the grassy knoll, fingers deftly picking dandelions with the care of someone who found solace in simple acts. Each flower was a gift for Mother, a token of my affection and a fleeting attempt to bring joy into our home.

"Brother Lucius," Darius said with a tone of playful reproach as he approached, "Mother's getting a bit tired of those dandelions. She's been tossing them out when you're not looking."

I turned, forcing a laugh to mask my slight embarrassment. "Yeah, I knew that..." I said, though the truth was my heart sank a bit each time I saw those flowers discarded. Despite my previous life's experiences and my mental 16-year-old age, here I was, still a child in this world, overshadowed by Darius's unspoken responsibilities as the older twin. His seconds meant everything here.

Darius placed a hand on my shoulder, his gesture carrying the weight of familial duty. "As the older twin, I'm responsible for you."

His prideful tone echoed our father's lessons. Darius had absorbed those teachings as if they were etched into his very being. Father's insistence on the importance of our bloodline was a daily refrain. We were raised with the knowledge that our lineage was revered as powerful warriors, serving kingdoms with unwavering loyalty. Father's stories of battles and betrayals were interwoven with our upbringing, his bitterness towards the nobility would be seen by me and Darius when one fateful night we saw him sit down on his bed, reading a letter sent by his father before the last days of his life. Fighting to protect the life of a noble prince, whilst leaving his wife and son to deal with the aftermath of his loss alone.

"Never trust the nobles," Father would say, his voice thick with frustration. "They make you believe you owe them something just for their presence."

With those thoughts in mind, we set off towards the village and the school nearby. Despite our hilltop home's isolation, civilization was within reach. Father's old adventuring friends would frequently visit, and he always welcomed them with open arms. As we approached the school, the lively bustle of the market filled the air—horses whinnied, merchants called out their wares, and the vibrant energy was almost palpable.

When we arrived at the school, Father knocked on the heavy wooden door. It was opened by a man dressed in dark robes adorned with a large cross. His penetrating gaze met mine, searching, probing, before he quickly looked away with a hint of concern. Darius snickered and whispered, "He probably saw how weird you are."

I nudged him back with a smirk. "You're so forgettable he didn't even notice you." Our parents shot us stern looks, but we couldn't help but giggle at the small moment of levity amidst the tension.

Inside, the school was modest—dusty wooden floors, worn desks, and three small classrooms. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and must. I sneezed as we entered the main room. Mother and Father were directed to wait outside while the man, whose name we hadn't yet learned, began the mana evaluation.

He started with Darius, chanting in a language that sounded almost ancient. "Benedictio Dei et solius Dei te ipsum revela!"

A bright, ethereal light enveloped Darius. The man's eyes widened in awe, and he clapped enthusiastically. Kneeling down, he patted Darius on the head, his voice full of admiration. "You have great potential, my boy. The blessing of light has been bestowed upon you."

Next, he turned to me, repeating the same chant. The Latin-like words seemed to connect this world with my previous one. As he chanted, his face shifted from curiosity to discomfort. His gaze avoided mine, and his expression hardened with a visible hint of disappointment.

"We're done here," he announced curtly. "I need to speak with your parents."

Darius and I stepped out of the room, the door closing behind us. My brother's excitement was palpable as he bounced and declared, "I'm going to be a prodigy!"

I sank onto the hard, splintered wooden floor, resting my head against the door. The room's muffled sounds were faint at first, but then I caught snippets of the conversation that made my heart twist.

"The child has no mana, I'm afraid," the man's voice was heavy with disapproval.

"No! This can't be true," Father's voice was filled with incredulity and rising anger. "Nothing in history has ever been completely devoid of mana!"

The man attempted to calm him, his tone apologetic. "Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Everhart, but your son Lucius is an exceptional case."

I made out the sound of my mothers voice trembling as she added, "Except for vessels..."

To be truthful I was quite intrigued of what vessels in this world signify, however an oppressive silence followed, each word hanging in the air like a heavy fog. My parents exited the room, their faces etched with concern. I stood up, my legs shaky, and joined Darius, who was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice the gravity of the situation. Our parents, forcing warm smiles, looked at us with a mixture of sadness and resolve.

"Let's go home, son," Father said, his voice soft as he lifted me onto his back.

Darius, feeling a pang of jealousy, asked Mother for the same treatment. She complied, albeit with a strained cheerfulness. As we walked back home, the contrast between the cheerful façade and the underlying tension was stark. Each step felt like a reminder of the evaluation's outcome, the weight of being a "rare exception" pressing down on me.

The world around us seemed unchanged, but my own place within it had shifted dramatically. The familiar sights of home, once a comfort, now felt like a distant echo of what might have been.

The man attempted to calm down my father telling him "Sorry Mrs. and Mr. Everhart but your son Lucius is a rare exception."

My mother in a horrified tone uttered "In legends it's said that the person chosen to be without mana, will be the vessel of a demon"

The room became silent and my parents exited the room, I rushed up from the ground and stood next to my brother who was too preoccupied on picking his nose, they looked at both me and my brother and gave us a big warm smile.

"Let's go home, son" My father said whilst piggybacking me

My brother clearly jealously asked my mother for the same which she zealously accepted.