Chapter 24 The Lake, The Past and The Present

The lake lay still, wrapped in a thin veil of morning mist that drifted lazily across the water as sunlight slipped through the trees. Birds chirped softly in the distance, their song broken now and then by the faint ripple beneath the dock. Amos sat at the edge of the wooden platform, fishing rod in hand, a scene that already felt oddly out of place. Across from him, Axios Kyros seemed perfectly at ease.

“Grandfather.”

“Yes?”

“You brought me fishing.”

“I did.”

“Then why are we here.”

Axios cast his line lazily into the lake.

“We need some privacy for the talk we about to have.”

The answer shifted the atmosphere at once, and Amos caught it immediately. The older man’s easy smile stayed in place, but there was a new sharpness in his eyes—serious now. For a moment, they sat in silence, the gentle sounds of nature filling the space between them, until Axios finally spoke again.

“You’ve changed more than I expected.”

Amos stared at the lake.

“I would hope so.”

“No.”

Axios glanced toward him briefly.

“I mean fundamentally.”

Amos did not respond immediately.

He understood what his grandfather meant, though it was hard to put into words. Afterward, Axios leaned back slightly.

“You know…” His voice grew quieter.

“There is something the main family passes down privately between heads of the Kyros bloodline.”

Amos raised an eyebrow slightly.

“That sounds troublesome already.”

“A prophecy.”

Silence.

Amos blinked once.

“A prophecy.”

“Yes.”

“That somehow became worse.”

Axios snorted softly.

“I thought the same thing when my father told me.” The older man looked toward the distant lake calmly.

“It originated from the first Kyros ancestor.”

Now Amos was actually listening carefully.

The first ancestor of the Kyros family wasn’t just a figure of historical importance—he was a legend. The very founder of the bloodline itself. Axios spoke on in a quiet tone.

“The prophecy speaks of a descendant who would one day bring the Kyros family to heights greater than ever before.”

Amos immediately looked unimpressed.

“That sounds incredibly vague.”

“It is.”

“That barely qualifies as prophecy.”

“You are not wrong.”

Axios smiled faintly.

“Most family heads treated it more like tradition than destiny.”

“Reasonable.”

“But” The older man’s gaze slowly shifted toward Amos. “For generations, the prophecy also included signs.”

The atmosphere shifted subtly.

“What signs.”

Axios was silent briefly. “A genius beyond expectation.”

Amos remained quiet.

“One who changes those around him.”

The wind rustled softly through the trees.

“One who walks paths never by others.”

Amos’s expression stilled slightly.

“And most importantly”

Axios’s eyes narrowed faintly.

“The first sign. The heir who truly awakens the sleeping bloodline.”

Axios slowly exhaled.

“So.” His voice was calm now. “It is you.”

Amos looked toward his grandfather carefully.

“You’re making an assumptions.”

“No.”

Axios smiled faintly.

“I’m simply saying facts.”

“You sound very confident for someone basing this on an old prophecy.”

The older man laughed softly. “I ruled the Kyros territory for decades. I know what monsters look like.”

“You fulfilled the first part already.”

Amos said nothing.

“You’re quite strong now much stronger than you should be at your age.”

Amos quietly leaned back against the dock behind him.

“So, you could see it.”

“I could sense it.”

That surprised him slightly.

The older man smiled faintly. “You know how to find the difference between a talented person and a dangerous one?”

“What?”

“Their eyes.” Axios gestured lazily back toward the estate.

“The eyes tell everything you need to know about a person.”

“You stopped looking at the world with an uncertain eyes.”

The words landed harder than expected. Amos quietly turned his gaze toward the lake. Because, sadly, his grandfather was right. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Axios let out a sudden snort.

“Though honestly, the prophecy probably didn’t expect you to become this troublesome.”

Amos’s expression turned instantly offended, while Axios’s laughter echoed across the lake. Amos couldn’t help but wonder why every serious family talk ended in some form of embarrassment. The lake itself stayed calm and still. Axios reeled in his fishing line lazily, more out of routine than intent—after all, they hadn’t caught a thing in nearly an hour. It fit the mood just fine. Amos leaned back against the dock’s wooden railing, arms loosely crossed, eyes fixed on the water.

“So is the prophecy real?”

“I think so.”

“That is not a reassuring answer.”

“Most prophecies aren’t.”

Axios adjusted the brim of his old hat slightly. “For generations, the family treated it as half warning, half fairytale.” Axios rested the fishing rod beside him afterward.

“You know your full name isn’t normal, correct?”

“Amos Eos Kyros.”

“The ‘Eos’ part,” Axios clarified.

Amos had noticed it before. His father had it. His grandfather had it. The former family heads all carried it. But many others in the main branch didn’t. Axios leaned back a little.

“The Eos name is only given to direct heirs who possess the potential.”

“Potential for what.”

“To be the prophecy.”

“That sounds extremely dramatic.”

“It is an old noble family tradition.”

“That actually explains a lot.”

Axios chuckled softly. “The name itself originates from the first ancestor. Eos Kyros.”

Amos’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“I thought the founder’s full name was lost.”

“The first name was.”

Axios nodded slowly.

“But ‘Eos’ remained.”

The older man’s expression grew calmer afterward.

“For centuries, the family believed descendants carrying stronger traces of the founder would eventually appear.”

“And those descendants received the name?”

“Yes.”

Axios pointed casually toward Amos.

“The name wasn’t inheritance. It was expectation.”

That sentence lingered heavily.

Amos looked down toward the lake quietly.

“So, father had the potential too.”

“Yes.”

“And so do you.”

“Yes.”

“Most heirs never fulfilled anything.They were talented, capable, exceptional even, but still not enough.”

The older man glanced sideways toward Amos again.

“You are different.”

Amos sighed quietly.

Axios picked up a small stone from the dock and tossed it lightly into the lake.

“There are more details passed down privately.”

“Oh good. The prophecy somehow gets worse.”

“The ancestor supposedly described the prophesied heir as someone who would carry both calamity and prosperity simultaneously.”vAmos stared blankly.

“That sounds bad.”

“It does.”

“The first ancestor really needs to find better wording.”

Axios laughed softly.

“The interpretation changed over time.”

“How reassuring.”

“One version claimed the heir would elevate the Kyros family beyond nobility itself. Another claimed they would stand at the center of a great upheaval, and one particular version claimed the heir would either become the family’s greatest blessing or its ruin.”

The water rippled quietly beneath the dock.

Amos eventually sighed. “I feel like ancestors should not be allowed to leave cryptic messages.”

“A fair opinion.”

“Did he at least explain any of this properly?”

“Nope.”

“Of course not.”

Axios smiled faintly again.

“The founder was apparently a very difficult man.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“It is a running family trait.”

Amos rubbed his forehead slowly.

“So basically, the family has been naming children after an ancient possibly insane ancestor while hoping one eventually fulfills a vague ancient prophecy.”

“When you phrase it like that, it sounds questionable.”

“It IS questionable.”

Axios burst into laughter again. “Hah! Fair enough.”

“Still.”

He looked directly at Amos now.

“I genuinely believe it’s you.”

“You’ve will change this family.”

Amos looked away quietly.

The older man folded his arms afterward. “You grow too fast.” Axios sighed afterward. “Just remember something.”

“Hm?”

“The prophecy never mattered as much as the person carrying it.”

The lake breeze drifted softly around them.

“You are still you first, not the prophecy.”

That was probably the most comforting thing his grandfather had said all morning.