I remember the day like it was branded into my bones.
People always talk about the big moments in life like they're fireworks—loud, impossible to miss, full of light and celebration. But the truth is… the biggest moments are quiet. They sneak up on you. They start like any other day.
That morning, I woke up to the smell of fried plantain and roasted maize, drifting in from the kitchen. My mother always cooked big on ceremony days. "So they'll see your halo and know you were raised with love," she used to say. I didn't really understand what that meant back then. I just liked the smell.
I remember sunlight pouring through the crack in our roof. My sister yelling something about me oversleeping. My father humming off-key while sharpening his old walking stick, like he was pretending he didn't cry when I was born.
It was warm. It was normal.
It was the last normal day I ever had.
My robe itched. Not the soft, divine kind you saw nobles wear—just stiff white cloth we'd borrowed from the temple's donation bin. It was too big in the arms and smelled like incense and wet dust. Still, when I put it on, I felt important. Like maybe today I'd step out of our little wooden house and into something bigger. A future, maybe.
"Don't fidget," my mom said, pulling the robe straight. Her hands were gentle, but her eyes were sharp. She always got like that when she was scared.
"You look nervous," I told her.
"I'm not," she lied, then fixed my collar again even though it was already perfect. "You'll shine, Rai."
Lina stood at the doorway, arms crossed. "He better not faint on the platform. That'd be embarrassing."
"I'm not gonna faint!"
"You fainted when that chicken chased you last week."
"It had knives for feet!"
"It was a chicken, Rai."
I stuck my tongue out at her. She rolled her eyes but smiled. That was our language—constant teasing, constant love.
We walked to the ceremony together, like every other family in our quarter. The sun was high, and the capital plaza glowed like gold had spilled across it. Floating lanterns drifted above us, casting colored lights down on the crowd. Kids lined up in rows of white, waiting for their names to be called. Some were crying. Some were bouncing on their feet. Some just stared at the sky.
The evaluation was simple—stand under the prism, wait for the magic to respond, and your Halo would appear above your head. Color determined everything: your role, your training, your place in society. A Gold Halo meant leadership. A Crimson Halo meant strength. Silver meant intellect. White meant divinity.
No one ever talked about Black.
No one even joked about it.
"Rai Veyron," the priest called.
I stepped forward.
My heart was beating too fast, but I forced myself to walk straight. The prism in the center shimmered with runes. My foot hit the first step, then the second, and I stood underneath the light.
For a moment… nothing.
Then everything.
A surge of warmth burst in my chest—like the world was looking into me, like my soul had been cracked open and poured into the sky. Light began to pulse above my head. The crowd held its breath.
Gold?
No.
Crimson?
No.
The light flickered.
Flickered again.
Then—darkness.
A sound like glass shattering echoed from the prism. The light turned black. The ring formed—cold, absolute, impossibly silent. A perfect Halo. A cursed one.
The Black Halo.
I didn't understand. Not then. I just stood there, confused, as the entire crowd took a step back.
"Impossible," someone whispered.
"He's… one of them."
A soldier drew his blade.
I looked for my mother. She was already running to me.
That's when the guards grabbed her.
"MOM?!"
She screamed my name, clawing to get free. My father tried to push through the soldiers, but they struck him down. Lina's voice was lost in the chaos. People were shouting, some running, others just… staring.
I didn't cry.
I didn't move.
I just stood there under that cursed prism, with that black ring hovering over my head and everything I ever loved being ripped away before my eyes.
That was the last time I saw my home.
That was the day the light turned.
Author's Note:
Hey. If you're reading this right now—thank you. I know I'm super late posting this chapter (life kinda knocked me sideways today), but I didn't want to skip it. Rai's story really begins here, and it means a lot that you're here for it.
Stick around for chapter 3❤️