The ruins echoed with the sharp crack of wood against stone. Kael's training had grown harsher with each passing day. Sweat stung his eyes, his chest heaved, and the mark on his skin pulsed like a second heartbeat.
"Again," the wanderer commanded.
Kael's grip tightened on the wooden blade. His arms burned, but he forced another strike. The impact sent a jolt of pain up his arms. The sigil on his chest flared, glowing faint silver through his shirt.
He stumbled. The wanderer's eyes narrowed. "Steady yourself. Do not let it command you."
"I'm trying!" Kael snapped, frustration boiling in his young voice. "But it hurts! It feels like it's tearing me apart!"
The wanderer stepped closer, her gaze hard but not unkind. "Pain does not excuse weakness. The mark will not pity you, Kael. Either you master it, or it will consume you."
Her words struck deep. Kael clenched his teeth and swung again, this time with more force. Dust burst from the stone as the blade splintered in his hands. The broken pieces clattered to the ground.
Then it happened.
The mark on his chest blazed to life, brighter than ever before. Silver fire crawled across his skin, spilling from the sigil like liquid light. His eyes widened in terror as strength unlike anything he had ever known surged through him.
The ruined stone pillar before him cracked — not from wood, but from the sheer force of the energy rippling outward. The ground trembled. Rocks split.
Kael gasped, clutching his chest. "I… I can't stop it!"
The wanderer's face hardened. She dropped her sword and rushed to him, grabbing his shoulders. The boy's small body shook violently, the glow spreading like wildfire. His breath came in ragged bursts, each exhale tinged with light.
"Kael! Listen to me!" she barked. "You are stronger than this! Control it, before it destroys you!"
But Kael's eyes were wild, silver light flickering within them. His scream echoed through the ruins, and a shockwave erupted outward, hurling dust and stone into the air.
The wanderer braced herself, shielding him with her own body. The force stung her skin, tore at her cloak, but she held firm. "Breathe, Kael! Breathe and focus!"
Her voice cut through the storm.
Slowly, painfully, the light began to dim. The sigil's glow flickered, then sank back into his chest like an ember fading to ash. Kael collapsed against her, trembling, his breaths shallow but steady.
For a long moment, only the sound of his gasps filled the air. The wanderer held him close, her stern mask slipping into something heavier — worry.
"You nearly lost yourself," she said quietly.
Kael's voice broke as he whispered, "I thought I was going to die."
She brushed the hair from his damp forehead, her expression unreadable. "You will not die, Kael. Not if you learn to master it. But this power… it is not meant for a child to carry."
Tears stung Kael's eyes, though he blinked them away fiercely. "Then I'll get stronger. Stronger than this curse. I'll never lose control again."
The wanderer looked at him for a long time, then finally nodded. "Then tomorrow, we begin again."
But in her heart, unease gnawed. She had seen many forms of power in her life — sorcery, divine blessings, cursed bloodlines — but nothing like this. The boy was a storm caged within fragile flesh. If he broke too soon, the world itself might shatter with him.
Far above, the broken star shone brighter in the night sky. Its light fell across the wasteland like a silent witness, as if to say: the curse had only just begun to awaken.