The Ghost That Holds My Fate

"Your eyes..." Isolde's voice wavered as she stared at Lorenzo.

"What's wrong with my eyes?" Lorenzo asked, confused by her expression.

Isolde took a step closer, her silvery-violet eyes locking with his. "Your right eye… it's changing. The color… it's fading into something else."

"What are you talking about?" He frowned and rushed toward the bathroom. The door creaked open as he leaned over the sink, his heart pounding.

The mirror reflected his face, and his breath caught. His right eye wasn't the same. The once calm ocean blue now shimmered with streaks of crimson at the edge, like fire licking the surface of the sea. His left eye remained untouched, but the contrast between them was unsettling.

"This… this can't be real." He splashed water on his face, hoping to clear his vision, but the change remained. The crimson hue deepened, growing more vivid.

"Lorenzo?" Isolde's voice came from behind him. She stood at the bathroom door, her face pale. "Is it because of me?"

He turned to her, his voice firm yet tinged with frustration. "Izzy, stop blaming yourself for everything. Not everything strange that happens is because of you."

"But how can I not?" she whispered, guilt evident in her tone. "Ever since I came into your life, things have been spiraling. Your eyes, your injuries… all of it started after we met."

"It's not your fault," Lorenzo said, his voice softening. "I don't know what's happening to me, but I won't let you carry this burden."

"But what if it is because of me?"

Lorenzo shook his head, running his hands through his dark hair. "Maybe this is destiny. Maybe it's trying to show me who I really am." He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Or who I've always been."

The words hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty.

As the minutes passed, Lorenzo's right eye changed further. The crimson hue spread until the entire iris glowed with a faint red light. Both of them stared, unsure of what to say.

"I need a moment," Lorenzo muttered, stepping back toward the bathroom.

Lorenzo stood frozen, his fingers gripping the bathroom door handle, the cold metal sending a shiver through his body. He took a slow breath, his voice barely above a whisper but full of urgency as he spoke without turning to face her.

"Izzy," he began, his words heavy, as though each one was a battle. "Maybe this is my destiny. Maybe this... this is the path I was always meant to walk, even if it's filled with shadows and uncertainty." He tightened his grip on the doorknob, his knuckles white. "None of this, none of it is because of you. Please, don't go." His voice cracked slightly, the emotion raw. "I will make sure you find your soul, no matter what I have to endure. Even if it means walking through fire, through darkness, I'll carry the weight for you. I will face it all. Just... please don't leave me."

Before she could respond he shut the door. He leaned heavily against the sink, his breaths shallow.

He reached for the hem of his shirt, pausing for a moment. A strange sensation crawled across his torso, a heat radiating from his chest. Slowly, he pulled the shirt over his head, revealing the bandage Isolde had carefully wrapped around him.

Something felt wrong.

With trembling hands, Lorenzo began to unwrap the bandage. As the last layer fell away, he stumbled back, his eyes widening in horror.

A tattoo.

Etched into his torso was a magnificent dragon, its wings stretched across his ribs and curling toward his shoulders. Behind the dragon, a radiant moon glowed faintly, and above its head rested a crown, regal and intimidating. The dragon's crimson eyes seemed alive, gleaming with an eerie light, as though they were watching him.

"No..." Lorenzo stumbled, pressing his back against the wall. His legs felt weak, and the room began to spin. "I don't have tattoos. I've never wanted one… I don't understand—"

He stumbled out of the bathroom, clutching his shirt as though it could protect him. The sight of the dragon and moon burned in his mind. He managed a few steps before collapsing onto the floor.

Isolde rushed to his side, her hands glowing faintly as she placed them on his forehead. A soothing warmth spread through him, chasing away the darkness threatening to consume him.

He opened his eyes slowly, his voice barely audible. "It's a tattoo… on my torso."

"Let me see," she urged, her voice calm but insistent.

Reluctantly, Lorenzo sat up and revealed the mark. Isolde's breath caught.

Her fingers traced the intricate design, her touch light and trembling. "This… this is the crest of Astrael."she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of awe and fear.

Lorenzo stared at her, his heart pounding. "The crest of what?"