I woke up with a heaviness in my head, as if someone had used my skull as a drum all night.

  I somehow made it to the mirror, leaned closer—

  —and froze.

  “Oh…” I managed.

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  My left eye had become almost normal again. The sclera was white, the pupil human. Only the iris kept a faint, smoky tint.

  But the right eye remained the same — a black, lightless abyss.

  The contrast looked… disturbing.

  Like someone had pulled a mask over half my face.

  “Great. New level of ugliness unlocked,” I muttered to my reflection. “Used to be half colorful. Now I’m half horror.”

  I splashed water on my face, trying not to think about what might happen next.

  “I’ll bet five coins that by morning the right eye turns rainbow-spotted. Wouldn’t surprise me.”

  A polite knock came at the door.

  “Mister Greg,” the servant’s voice was respectful. “A reminder: dinner with the King at 18:00. Please do not be late.”

  “How could I forget…” I muttered, falling back into the pillows.

  “Easily.”

  I decided to take a short nap. Just a little one. Fifteen minutes. I’ll just close my eyes…

  Of course, I opened them at exactly 18:00.

  “WHAT THE—?!”

  The door burst open with a bang.

  Alexia stood in the doorway. Hands on her hips, face red, practically steaming.

  “WHY ARE YOU STILL IN YOUR UNDERWEAR?!” she shouted. “This is DINNER WITH MY FATHER. WITH THE KING. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

  “I—I don’t know how this happened!” I protested, trying to pull on my pants and boots at the same time (for some reason backwards). “Time flows differently here!”

  She opened her mouth to unleash another wave of yelling—

  —but suddenly stopped.

  Her eyes locked onto my face.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “Your eyes…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I sighed, finally managing the pants. “They’re changing. I’m not blind. I’ve seen the circus in the mirror.”

  “They’re… half normal…” she whispered, stepping closer. “That’s… strange. And more frightening than before.”

  “Thanks. Finally someone said it out loud. Let’s go before I get executed for being late.”

  I threw open the dining hall doors and rushed inside, nearly tripping over the carpet.

  “Sorry! I was… conducting important meditation. Got carried away.”

  Everyone was already seated.

  The King.

  Alexia (who had somehow arrived before me).

  Lianelle — still dark and rigid after her defeat.

  Tall. Cold gaze. Perfect posture.

  The elder sister.

  The King nodded toward my chair.

  I sat and immediately grabbed a pie.

  Lianelle leaned forward, drilling into me with her eyes.

  “Father,” she said firmly. “Greg’s power is immense. I tested him in a duel. He could become a pillar of the kingdom. We must not lose him.”

  “WHAT?” I asked with my mouth full, crumbs falling. “Who? Me? A pillar? Guys, I don’t even like standing upright. What kind of pillar would I be?”

  Alexia nodded quickly.

  “He’s unusual, Father! His potential is enormous! We saw his reflexes, his magic… this can’t be ignored!”

  The King looked at me with that heavy, penetrating gaze.

  “You see the changes yourself?” he asked quietly. “Your eyes. Is the darkness receding?”

  “Yeah.” I swallowed. “I see it. And I don’t know what to say. Except ‘huh.’”

  A pause.

  I wiped my hands with a napkin.

  “Listen. Thanks for the hospitality. It was fun… sometimes. The candy was good. But I should go.”

  “Go where?” the King asked.

  “My own way. Don’t know which way yet. But definitely not here. I don’t like palaces, etiquette, and all that.”

  Lianelle stood abruptly. Her chair scraped loudly.

  “What? You’re just going to leave? Without a goal? With that kind of power, you want to waste your life?”

  “Exactly,” I nodded.

  The King cut off the rising argument.

  “Greg. Would you like to study at our Royal Academy of Magic and Sword?”

  Alexia lit up.

  “Yes! Greg, agree! It’s the best place for development! True masters teach there! The library is bigger than the city’s!”

  I tilted my head lazily.

  “An Academy, huh. What level are the students?”

  Lianelle straightened proudly, like a marble statue of Victory.

  “The level is the highest. For example, I rank second among all swordsmen in the entire Academy.”

  I looked at her.

  Looked at my half-eaten pie.

  Looked back at her.

  Remembered how easily I had thrown her around.

  “PFFFF—”

  I burst out laughing. Loud. Genuine. Tears in my eyes.

  “HAHAHAHA! You? Second place? And that’s the best you’ve got?”

  I wiped a tear.

  “Oh… I’m sorry, but that’s funny. If ‘second place’ is your level, I’ll be bored to death there. I’ll fall asleep in the first duel.”

  The hall fell into icy silence.

  Red patches crept across Lianelle’s face.

  Alexia covered her face with her hand.

  The King did not get angry.

  He raised a hand, stopping his daughter from exploding.

  “There are not only students there, Greg. There is one… special teacher.”

  He paused.

  “A very ancient Elf. It is said he was born almost in the Era of the World’s Beginning. He has lived longer than any race. He has seen everything. Wars. Cataclysms. The changing of ages.”

  The King looked directly into my eyes.

  “Perhaps… he could tell you something about your nature. About your cycles.”

  I froze.

  The pie slipped from my hand onto the plate.

  An Elf. Ancient.

  That book in the library. Written in a dead language I can read.

  The black monster.

  My memory gaps.

  The pieces clicked.

  This is not coincidence.

  I slowly exhaled.

  “An Elf, you say…”

  The King waited.

  “Fine,” I lifted my gaze. “I’m going.”

  “You leave tomorrow,” the King nodded, as if he had known the answer already.

  I silently nodded and reached for another pie.

  An Elf…

  Maybe that’s the key.

  Maybe I’ll finally learn who I am.

  And why everyone keeps calling me a freak.