Using his authority as the former leader, Rathn Kailith was able to swiftly crush any opposition. He initially considered appointing a maid to raise the child but immediately rejected the idea.
This child was a tragedy; no one could neglect him. His captivating infantile features made his presence deeply affecting to everyone around him. His fragile body, a reflection of his parents' neglect, carried a strange allure—so much so that merely holding him could make one feel a spark of life renewed within.
Rathn felt a strange, unwelcome emotion creeping into his heart, despite his position at the pinnacle of power.
Possession.
He felt it stirring within, resisted it with difficulty, and thus realized something crucial: women were a danger to the child. Their affection could easily turn into obsession.
Therefore, he assigned him a servant—Arven, the Master of the Family's Servants—to care for him alongside his grandfather.
On the continent of Kiva, the Kailith Clan ruled from behind the shadows. A clan known to few, yet the strongest to ever exist. Those who knew them understood that every move they made could shift the balance of power across the continent.
By the time Atherion turned four, he was no mere child... His beauty was overwhelming, ensnaring anyone who saw him and planting an undeniable desire and curiosity.
His exquisite features, flawless skin, dark eyes that held the glimmer of stars—everything about him drew gazes without exception, making any direct interaction fraught with danger.
Thus, the robe and mask became an absolute necessity. They were not merely a restraint but a protection—for the child and for others. Any direct exposure to his beauty was enough to stir powerful, uncontrolled desire, even among the clan's highest-ranking members.
As for his genius, it was even more astonishing. Anything presented to him, he understood from the first instance, memorized it, and applied it without error. His peculiar silence and calm for his age made one thing abundantly clear to the clan: This child was not merely a genius... he was a constant, intertwined force of beauty and ability.
---
Atherion sat in his private corner on a slightly elevated, semi-isolated platform, surrounded by light curtains that prevented any direct interaction with those present. He only moved when necessary, and his silence imposed a quiet presence without disrupting the meeting's flow.
In a massive hall with a high ceiling supported by colossal stone pillars, walls adorned with ancient clan markings, the high elders gathered around a round table of ancient wood. Light filtered down from high windows, carefully illuminating the floor, and everything reflected the absolute authority and prestige of the clan. No one showed any expression, not even a discernible emotion.
The meeting began with a heavy silence, as if each word carried the weight of stone. Rathn Kailith stepped forward with steady strides, his voice deep and grave:
"The child displays abilities far beyond his years. His genius is evident, but he is very young and needs protection."
One of the elders replied in a quiet, stern voice: "Protection does not mean allowing him any external influence. His abilities could be a danger if revealed to the public or if he is given a visible role within the clan."
Rathn's tone softened slightly, attempting persuasion: "We can train him gradually, under the clan's strict supervision and close monitoring. The child needs limited guidance; interaction won't harm him—it will ensure his proper development."
The first elder replied without expression: "The issue is not guidance. The child is not of pure lineage and will not be an heir. He will not be permitted any official role. This has been the clan's decision from the beginning."
Another elder, with the same unwavering tone, added: "Any direct interaction could create chaos. His genius, his power, his overwhelming beauty... all are factors that make it difficult to allow him to appear among his peers."
Rathn shifted his gaze to Elder "Zero."
In the center of the imposing hall, seated on a platform slightly elevated above the rest, was Zephyr Kailith, known as Elder "Zero."
His posture was rigid, his face a neutral mask devoid of any interpretable expression, yet he carried an undeniable weight in every movement and glance. The space around him indicated the centrality of his authority. His massive wooden chair, adorned with ancient clan sigils, stood taller than the seats of the other elders. Light filtered from above, highlighting his sharp features and penetrating dark eyes. Even his silence—as if every word were reserved—imposed a solemn dignity upon the entire hall, making everyone present feel the gravity of his decision before it was even uttered.
"Zero" was not merely an elder; he was the clan's axis. His presence in the hall alone was enough to make any discussion or decision seem as if it passed through him first—without objection, without question, without any attempt at defiance.
He tilted his head slightly to look at Rathn—his father, who had once sat in his place—and spoke in a clear, resonant voice:
"Isolation. Until an heir is chosen."
Silence descended upon the hall. Rathn, who had been arguing, felt his last shred of hope evaporate. Resigned, he straightened his posture and, in perfect unison with the others, declared:
"Preserved."
Zephyr shifted his gaze toward the robed figure in the corner and asked: "Have you received the decision, Atherion von Kailith?"
The child lifted his small head. From behind the robe, dark eyes shimmering faintly like stars appeared, and he uttered a single word—short, in a voice that was captivating and filled with awareness despite his young age:
"Understood."