Loosing Control

Ignareth entered the palace hall, his boots echoing sharply against the marble floor. The knights at the entrance moved swiftly, one of them stepping forward to remove his hooded cloak with a bow. Without a word, Ignareth continued, heading straight for his chambers.

Inside, he called out coolly, "Prepare my suit."

A maid was already waiting with the requested attire, and the royal butler helped him dress in silence. Once the suit was on, Ignareth moved to the sofa and sat down with practiced grace. The butler poured him a cup of tea, and he took a slow sip, eyes thoughtful.

His magic knight adviser approached and bowed. "Your Highness, you've been gone for two days. Prince James is… displeased."

Ignareth raised an eyebrow. "Displeased? And what right does he have to be angry over my movements?"

The knight remained silent.

Just then, James burst into the room, his voice sharp with concern. "You know you're the Crown Prince. You can't disappear like that in Lunaris — not when danger is around every corner."

Ignareth didn't flinch. He looked up slowly, gaze cold. "And you have no right to lecture me."

"I'm not lecturing," James said, his tone lowering. "I'm concerned about your safety."

There was a long pause between them. Then Ignareth turned away, dismissing his brother with a glance. James clenched his jaw but said nothing more. He turned on his heel and left the room.

Ignareth took another sip of tea, the porcelain cup trembling slightly in his fingers.

"I know you're hiding something," he murmured aloud, though the room was empty now. "You're behind the dark magic boy too, aren't you?"

He turned to his knight. "Bring me the photo from the side table."

The knight obeyed without question, retrieving a small, worn picture frame.

Ignareth took it in his hand.

It was an old photograph — faded with time — of a child with wild dark hair and guarded eyes, standing beside a younger version of himself.

"Sebastian…" Ignareth whispered under his breath, thumb brushing over the image. "So it was you all along."

—

The morning sun filtered softly through the cottage windows as Oliver slung on his hooded cloak. His eyes lingered briefly on Sebastian.

"I'm heading out for research," he said with a faint smile.

Sebastian, still seated near the hearth, nodded. "Alright. Be safe."

With that, Oliver stepped outside, leaving the house quiet.

Sebastian eventually rose and walked into the kitchen, only to find the shelves nearly empty. With a small sigh, he grabbed his hooded cloak and decided to head into the market to buy something for dinner.

The streets were busy, full of chatter and life. Merchants called out from their stalls, and villagers bustled past in waves of color and noise.

Then, without warning, someone bumped into him — hard.

Sebastian staggered a step, but it wasn't just the impact. A strange, sharp throb echoed in his chest. His heartbeat spiked violently, and a cold sweat broke across his skin.

No… not now.

His breath hitched as a pulse of unfamiliar energy surged through him. Panic gripped him.

Clutching at his chest, he stumbled away, ducking into a narrow, hidden alley. His knees gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, trembling. His hands shook. His eyes burned.

Then they shifted — glowing a vivid, unnatural red.

"No… please…" he whispered, clutching at his collar. The magic in him was rising, boiling, trying to claw its way out.

Just then, someone turned into the alley.

"Sebastian?" a familiar voice called.

James.

He didn't hesitate. He ran over, eyes wide in shock. "What's happening to you?"

Sebastian couldn't speak. He was shivering, his eyes locked on James, desperate and full of fear.

James dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around him. "You're okay. I've got you."

But Sebastian's instincts snapped.

His hands gripped James's shoulders—then his mouth met James's neck. Sharp pain followed as Sebastian bit into him, drawing blood.

James flinched, gasping softly, but didn't pull away. "It's okay," he whispered, steadying his breath. "I'm right here."

Sebastian drank, trembling, his red eyes flickering black as the dark magic within him was soothed by the warmth and trust surrounding him.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the storm inside him calmed.

Realizing what he had done, Sebastian recoiled in horror, lips stained with blood.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to—I didn't even know what I was doing—" he stammered, panic and shame flooding his voice.

He pulled a silk handkerchief from his sleeve and tried to wipe James's neck, but James caught his hand gently.

"It's alright," James said, offering a soft, reassuring smile.

He took the handkerchief himself and gently dabbed at Sebastian's mouth. "Next time… don't go out without the magic control stone."

"I was wearing it," Sebastian said, voice shaking. He reached under his collar and pulled out the necklace.

The stone was cracked. Shattered.

James's smile faded.

He stood up, then leaned down and offered his hand.

"Come on. Let's get you home before something worse happens."

Sebastian hesitated only a second before taking his hand, and the two disappeared into the shadows of the alley, side by side.