"Your robot toy broke because Arven borrowed it again, didn’t it?""Yeah! He borrowed it yesterday, and when he brought it back, the wheels were missing!""See? What did I tell you? That’s why you shouldn’t let him play with it!"Another child quickly grabbed the plastic ball that had been rolling toward Arven before he could touch it.Arven, the six-year-old boy, stopped in his tracks. He held back his hand, which had been reaching for the ball. His gaze shifted from one face to another as they stood in a circle, as if deliberately forming a barrier to keep him out.“I just want to play too,” Arven said softly.“Forget it, we don’t want to play with you!”“You’ll just borrow our toys again and break them! Our toys are expensive, you know!”“You’re so poor.”Laughter immediately erupted.Arven looked down. His flip-flops scraped against the dusty ground. “I always return the toys I borrow.”“But they’re broken!”“I didn’t break them,” Arven protested, because he didn’t feel like he’d

"We're out of gas." Sarmila turned the gas stove knob over and over. "I'll go buy some gas."Arven walked over to the stove and placed his index finger on the burner. Instantly, a blue flame ignited.Sarmila nearly stumbled backward, but she quickly pulled Arven’s arm away from the stove. Arven stared at the stove with sparkling eyes. “Mom, look! I can light the stove without any gas!” Arven exclaimed happily.Sarmila didn’t answer. Her hand was still gripping Arven’s wrist tightly, so tightly that it made the boy groan.“Ouch, Mom, that hurts.”Sarmila immediately let go, but her gaze remained unsettled. She saw that the blue flame was still burning perfectly above the burner, even though her hand hadn’t touched the stove for even a second.“Arven, you must never do that again, okay!”“Why? It’s so easy, Mom. You won’t have to buy gas.”“Arven!”The shout slipped out before Sarmila realized it. Arven flinched. His lips puckered, and his eyes welled up with tears.Sarmila took a deep

Several weeks had passed since his encounter with the little girl on the side of the road, Arven had almost forgotten about it. Until one afternoon, as he sat alone on the porch, someone appeared at the gate.Kiana stood at the gate. “Hi,” Kiana greeted him with a shy smile. “I brought this for you.”Kiana held out a small plastic bag containing banana cake. It was still warm. Arven looked at Kiana, puzzled.“Why?”“To say thank you. You helped me and took me home that day.” Kiana held out the plastic bag through the gap in the gate.Arven smiled slightly. He opened the gate and invited Kiana in. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”“It wasn’t a bother. "My mom made the cake. I just brought it over." Kiana sat down next to Arven on the porch. “Are you here all by yourself? Don’t you play with your friends?”Arven shook his head. “I don’t have any friends.”Kiana blinked. “Why?”Arven looked down. “They don’t like playing with me. They say I always break their toys whenever I

At the Palace of Eternal Darkness, that day was different from usual.​The Arena of Shadows–a vast, black-stoned field in the palace’s backyard–was filled with hundreds of noble families from all corners of the Shadow World. They had come to witness the Annual Youth Tournament, a showcase of skill for children aged six to ten. This was a long-awaited day. A day when parents took pride, children competed, and rulers assessed the promising talents of the future.​On the palace balcony towering high above the arena stood three figures.​King Kaelen Arkanis sat on his black stone throne. His evening robe fluttered in the cold wind blowing through the mountain passes. Beside him, Queen Seraphina Valdris sat gracefully, her black gown shimmering with tiny crystals embedded in the fabric. And between them, on a smaller chair, sat Princess Elara.​The little girl wore a deep purple dress with a silver ribbon at her waist. Her jet-black hair was neatly styled by the palace maids, adorned with

Seventeen years had passed since the night two babies were switched beneath the full moon.​Arven had now grown into a seventeen-year-old teenager. He was tall and slender, his shoulders beginning to broaden, and his jawline taking on a sharp definition that often drew covert glances from the girls at school. Yet his eyes–a deep, dark brown–held something no other teenager his age possessed: the wariness of a young man harboring a dangerous secret.​In his sophomore year of high school, Arven was a perfectly ordinary student. His grades were strictly average. He did not stand out in academics, nor did he excel in sports. Quiet and polite, he always offered a faint, pleasant smile whenever spoken to. No one suspected that beneath his neat white-and-gray uniform lay a body that had been training relentlessly in secret for years.​While his classmates spent their free time playing mobile games, watching movies, or hanging out at local cafes, Arven lived a double life.​Every afternoon, a