Fate's Forgotten Trickster

Chapter 6: The Trickster's Illusion

A Noble's Greatest Weapon

The world of nobility was built on deception.

Words held hidden daggers, smiles masked ill intent, and power was not about brute strength, but the illusion of control.

Noctis Umbrael understood this better than most.

He was not the strongest. Not yet.

But he didn't need to be.

Because power was not just about reality—it was about perception.

And tonight, beneath the cold moonlight of the Umbrael estate, he would begin mastering the art of deception.

Noctis's abilities were not like those of warriors who wielded swords, nor mages who called upon flames and lightning.

His power was subtle.

It did not shape the world around him.

It shaped how the world was perceived.

A battle could be won before a sword was even drawn.

An enemy could be defeated without a single drop of blood spilled.

It was not physical strength that determined victory.

It was the ability to control what others believed to be true.

Noctis's abilities were not like those of warriors who wielded swords, nor mages who called upon flames and lightning.

His power was subtle.

It did not shape the world around him.

It shaped how the world was perceived.

A battle could be won before a sword was even drawn.

An enemy could be defeated without a single drop of blood spilled.

It was not physical strength that determined victory.

It was the ability to control what others believed to be true.

Noctis stood in the shadows of his chamber, closing his eyes.

And for the first time, he would push his power beyond simple misdirection.

Noctis exhaled slowly.

His abilities had always worked instinctively, twisting the perceptions of others in subtle ways.

Now, he would control them.

The first step was the Layer of Concealment.

A mental pulse spread from him—a ripple in the perception of reality.

He did not become invisible. That would be too obvious.

Instead, his form blurred in the mind's eye.

If someone looked directly at him, they would see nothing out of the ordinary.

Their minds would dismiss him, as though he were simply part of the background.

"I am not unseen," he thought. "I am simply not noticed."

He stepped into the corridor.

A servant walked past.

Noctis remained perfectly still.

For a brief moment, the servant's eyes flickered toward him—then slid away.

As if he was not even there.

A slow smile crept across Noctis's lips.

"It works."

Now came the next step: shaping perception.

Noctis could alter assumptions, implant ideas into a person's mind without them even realizing it.

He had done so in the duel with Caelum—shifting expectations just enough to cause hesitation.

But tonight, he would attempt something more complex.

He turned his gaze to the flickering candlelight along the hallway.

"Perception is reality," he reminded himself.

He reached out with his mind, focusing on the candle's glow.

And then—he willed it to change.

Not in reality.

But in the minds of those who would see it.

The flame shivered.

And then, to anyone else who looked, it would appear to burn blue.

Noctis let out a slow breath.

It was not a true transformation.

The fire remained unchanged.

But to an observer, it had become something entirely different.

"If I can change how the world is seen... then I control what is real."

His mind raced with the possibilities.

He could alter the appearance of a letter's contents.

Make someone forget they had seen something.

Cause an assassin to believe their target stood elsewhere.

Or... make an enemy see a phantom blade where there was none.

A test was needed. A real one.

Noctis made his way through the estate, silent as a shadow.

He knew where the knights trained even at night.

And more importantly—he knew they often left the gates unguarded.

Not out of negligence.

But because they believed no one would dare to sneak past.

He approached the outer courtyard, where two guards stood post, their hands resting idly on their blades.

"They expect nothing."

Noctis closed his eyes and let his power flow outward.

The first layer was already active. His presence was overlooked.

Now, he wove the second layer.

He did not need to hide his movements.

Instead, he would make them believe something else was happening.

A sound.

A whisper carried on the wind.

The illusion took shape—just outside their vision.

A shadow moved, though nothing was there.

One of the guards turned his head sharply.

"Did you see that?"

The other frowned, his grip tightening on his sword.

"See what?"

"Over there. I swear, I saw someone move."

Noctis remained utterly still, suppressing his smirk.

The illusion was not a physical construct.

It was an expectation, planted in their minds.

They wanted to believe something was there.

So their own senses filled in the gaps.

One of them stepped forward.

"I'll check it out."

Noctis moved.

Silently, effortlessly, he slipped past them.

Neither turned.

Neither noticed.

By the time the first guard realized there was nothing to be found, Noctis was already inside the outer courtyard.

Noctis stood beneath the moonlight, gazing at the courtyard he had just bypassed.

A noble should have relied on status and reputation to gain access to places.

A warrior should have fought his way through.

A mage would have blasted through obstacles.

But a trickster…

A trickster was already inside before anyone even realized it.

His abilities were not about direct confrontation.

They were about rewriting the game itself.

And this was only the beginning.

A voice echoed from behind him.

"Training at night? How desperate you must be, Noctis."

Noctis didn't need to turn to recognize the voice—Caelum Umbrael.

His older brother. His rival.

And unlike Noctis, Caelum had always been strong.

He was their father's favored heir, excelling in swordsmanship and traditional magic.

Noctis, on the other hand, had always been the forgotten one.

"What do you want, Caelum?" Noctis asked without looking back.

"I heard from Father that you've been given more time before the Academy. Something about being too weak to represent our house?"

Caelum chuckled. Mocking. Arrogant.

"What a disgrace."

Noctis exhaled slowly, keeping his temper in check.

He could not overpower Caelum.

But he didn't need to.

"And yet, here you are, wasting your time provoking a 'weakling.' Surely, you have better things to do?"

Caelum frowned, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction.

"Why don't we test that, little brother?"

He drew his sword. A challenge.

Noctis tilted his head.

"A duel? Seems rather childish, don't you think?"

"Or are you afraid?" Caelum smirked.

Noctis sighed.

Then, he smiled.

"Very well."

Caelum lunged.

Noctis barely had time to react—a flash of steel, a deadly arc.

He dodged, barely. The wind from the strike grazed his cheek.

"You can't avoid me forever, Noctis." Caelum smirked, already stepping forward for the next attack.

Noctis knew that was true.

Caelum was faster. Stronger.

If he fought normally, he would lose.

So he wouldn't fight normally.

Instead—he would fight as a trickster.

Noctis closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, and when they reopened—his ability activated.

Caelum swung his blade again.

And for the briefest moment—his eyes flickered with hesitation.

Noctis was right in front of him.

And yet—his mind told him Noctis wasn't there.

It was only for half a second.

But it was enough.

Noctis sidestepped, his movement smooth, effortless.

Caelum's blade struck empty air.

"What—"

Before he could react, Noctis reached forward and plucked the dagger from Caelum's belt.

By the time Caelum realized what had happened, Noctis was already behind him, flipping the dagger playfully in his fingers.

"You dropped this," Noctis said with a smirk.

Caelum turned sharply, glaring.

"What did you just do?"

"Nothing," Noctis shrugged. "You simply missed."

But he hadn't.

Caelum's attack should have hit.

Yet, in that crucial moment, Noctis had altered his perception just enough—Caelum's brain had failed to register his exact position.

A half-second illusion.

A trick of the mind.

And that was all it took.

Caelum scowled.

"You think this is funny?"

Without waiting for a response, he lunged again, faster than before.

This time, Noctis was ready.

He activated his power in layers.

First, a subtle misdirection. Caelum's eyes perceived Noctis stepping left.

Second, an illusory afterimage. A flicker of Noctis appearing a step behind where he truly was.

Caelum adjusted his strike—but too late.

His blade passed through nothing.

"Impossible," he growled.

Noctis was already behind him again.

"You seem frustrated, brother," he said, feigning innocence.

"Fight properly!" Caelum snapped.

"Ah, but this is proper." Noctis smiled.

"A duel is not about brute force. It is about control. And right now, I control everything you see."

Caelum clenched his jaw.

Then—his frustration vanished.

A cold smirk appeared instead.

"So that's how it is?"

He raised his free hand—and the air crackled.

Magic.

A sphere of raw force shot toward Noctis.

Noctis reacted instantly—but not with strength.

Instead—he altered the perception of time itself.

Not truly.

But to Caelum, it would appear as though the world had slowed for half a second.

Just enough for Noctis to move out of the spell's trajectory.

The magic missed.

Caelum's eyes widened.

"You—"

He barely had time to register the mistake before Noctis placed a single finger on his forehead.

"And now, dear brother—" Noctis whispered.

"You sleep."

A pulse of illusion magic flooded Caelum's senses.

He staggered, his vision warping, twisting.

And before he could resist—his consciousness faded.

Caelum collapsed onto the courtyard floor.

Asleep.

Defeated.

Noctis exhaled slowly.

With time, with mastery, his illusions would become more than just subtle shifts.

They would become inescapable.

He would weave false realities, trap enemies in mental prisons of their own making.

He would become the unseen ruler of every battlefield, shaping the minds of kings and generals alike.

Because if he controlled what they believed—

Then he controlled everything.