Chapter 8: First Display of Power
The morning sun filtered through the stained-glass windows of the Bael estate's grand study, casting prismatic patterns across the polished marble floor. The air was thick with anticipation. Today, Kiyoshi would join a group lesson with other noble heirs—an event orchestrated by Zekram and Flower to foster camaraderie and, perhaps, to subtly display their son's prodigious talents.
Kiyoshi, now eight, sat quietly at the edge of a semicircle of velvet-cushioned chairs. His silvery-black hair shimmered in the light, and his deep violet eyes flickered with both curiosity and anxiety. He wore a tailored suit of midnight blue, embroidered with the Bael crest—a reminder of the expectations that weighed upon him.
Venelana, ever the poised tutor, stood at the front of the room. Her voice was gentle but commanding as she introduced the day's lesson: "Today, you will practice basic spatial manipulation—moving objects from one side of the room to the other. Remember, control is more important than raw power."
The other children—scions of the Gremory, Sitri, and Astaroth clans—whispered among themselves, casting furtive glances at Kiyoshi. Some were eager to impress; others, wary of the rumors that surrounded the Bael heir.
Before the lesson began, Venelana paused, her gaze sweeping the room. "Before we start, I'd like to introduce someone important to me." She gestured to a tall, dignified man standing near the doorway, his crimson hair and piercing blue eyes unmistakable. "This is Lord Zeoticus Gremory, my partner and a trusted advisor to our family. He will be observing today's lesson."
Zeoticus offered a warm, reassuring smile, his presence both calming and commanding. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. I look forward to seeing your progress."
The lesson began simply enough. Each child took turns channeling their magic, teleporting colored stones across the room. Some succeeded, others faltered, but all received polite applause. When it was Kiyoshi's turn, the room fell silent.
He stepped forward, heart pounding. He could feel the eyes of his peers, the tutors, the ever-watchful guards, and now Zeoticus, whose gaze was gentle but keen. Venelana offered him a reassuring nod.
Kiyoshi closed his eyes, reaching inward for the wellspring of power that always seemed just beneath the surface. He pictured the stone—a smooth, obsidian orb—resting on the table before him. With a gentle exhale, he extended his hand.
The air shimmered. Space itself seemed to ripple, distorting the light around the stone. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft pop, the stone vanished—only to reappear, not on the opposite table, but hovering in midair, spinning slowly, surrounded by a corona of violet energy.
Gasps echoed through the room. The tutors exchanged alarmed glances. One of the younger heirs shrieked as the stone's energy flared, sending a shockwave that rattled the windows.
Suddenly, a second, more dangerous surge erupted. A stray magical current arced toward a group of children standing too close. Time seemed to slow. Kiyoshi's instincts took over—he reached out, not with his hand, but with his will, and space folded around the children, warping them safely to the far side of the room.
The shockwave dissipated harmlessly against the reinforced walls. The children, wide-eyed and unharmed, stared at Kiyoshi in awe and terror.
Venelana rushed to his side, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "It's all right, Kiyoshi. You did well." Her voice was calm, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of fear.
Zeoticus stepped forward, his expression thoughtful. "Such raw talent is rare, but it must be guided. Remember, Kiyoshi—true strength lies in restraint and compassion."
The tutors quickly regained their composure, ushering the children back to their seats. Whispers erupted—some praising Kiyoshi's quick thinking, others murmuring about the sheer scale of his magic.
Lord Lucifuge, who had been observing from the shadows, added his own measured words. "Impressive control for one so young. But such power must be tempered with discipline."
Kiyoshi nodded, swallowing hard. He felt a strange mix of pride and shame—pride for saving his peers, shame for frightening them.
As the lesson ended, the noble heirs crowded around him. Some offered thanks, others kept their distance, their eyes filled with a new kind of respect—and fear.
That evening, the estate buzzed with gossip. News of Kiyoshi's feat spread like wildfire. Servants whispered about the "miracle" in the study; nobles sent letters of inquiry and congratulations. Songs were composed, and paintings commissioned, immortalizing the moment the Bael heir revealed his true potential.
But in the quiet of his room, Kiyoshi sat alone, staring at his hands. He remembered the look in the other children's eyes—not just awe, but something darker. He wondered if this was the price of power: to be admired, but never truly understood.
Venelana visited him before bed, sitting beside him on the edge of his mattress. "You saved lives today, Kiyoshi. That is what matters most. But remember—power is a burden as much as it is a gift. You must learn to carry it with humility."
He nodded, her words echoing in his mind as he drifted to sleep.
Outside, under the moonlit sky, the Bael estate stood silent and vigilant. Within its walls, a legend was being born—a prodigy whose first display of power would change the Underworld forever.