Disastrous Doom

Okay! So this is just a trial run to see how people like it and if anyone has suggestions. I will add more if people like it!



Prologue:

A scuffle between my brother and I. Battle practice. I dodged the first blow and hit. I take a fist to the stomach, but ignore the pain, trying to remain emotionless. The sound of muscle pounding against muscle rang in my ears. I land hits of my own and hard against Gyllan. He only laughed.
However, as we continued our spar, I found it almost effortless to fight; I could feel my heart race. The brawl was cold and I could see hesitation in Gyllan’s eyes- mixed with fear. He reeked of it. Fear. It seemed to pour off of him. That was when the red highlights showed up; over Gyllan’s breathing slits, along his spine, and his brain. I could even see his heart pumping to all of his veins.
“Gyllan stop showing me what to do,” I hissed.
“I’m not showing you how to do anything, Breg.” He stated.
His eyes were the normal deep blue not the green of when he used his mind reading. I knew he was right, but I did not wish to think it.
I closed my eyes and threw a final strike. I moved so that my body, thrown into the air my hands, drove a leg into the middle of Gyllan’s chest. It knocked him backwards, slamming into ashy ground.
The entire courtyard was silent. I stood, shaking, and looked around. My father, who had been talking with the Darque Prince, turned towards us.
A whisper spoke out in my head, Breg, your eyes. They’re grey.
I gulped and lowered my head.
“Bregorn”, my father called.
Turning, I raised my head. He wasn’t mad, no. No. He seemed happy. Happy another son was one of the eight, another son was granted immense power.
He walked over, clapped his hands on my shoulders. He knelt down. “My boy.”
Gyllan grasped my hand, “good hit”. He laughed, guided me to the fountain.
He was right. My eyes which are normally yellow-orange were a cold grey. Not plain however, they seemed to be veined like a granite slab would be. They stood out against my fiery skin. I looked at my father again. He was beaming, was he finally proud of me? Was I truly his son, now? His rightful and true heir? Did he love me, now? Or would he continue to push me away or punish me?