The rain began as heavy, rhythmic pelting against the limestone. Leiya hauled Kota into the cool shadows of the cave, the air smelling of damp earth and ancient stone. He collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving as the sickness pulsed with a low, rhythmic heat.
Leiya didn't waste a second. She pulled a clay vial from her pack, the sharp, medicinal sting of the brew filling the small space. "Drink it all," she commanded. Her voice was steady, but her fingers trembled as she held the glass. "It'll stabilize the leak before the townspeople pick up the scent of the rot."
Kota took a long, shuddering swallow. The liquid was thick, tasting of charred roots and iron. He leaned his head back, the stone chilling his skin as he tried to drown out the screaming energy in his blood. Outside, the thunder intensified, the drumming of the rain beginning to morph in his mind.
The cave walls dissolved. The dampness turned into the crisp, dry heat of an autumn afternoon years ago. The training grounds of the Speedhardt estate were bathed in gold. It was a rare day of unity.
Koma, already tall and commanding at fifteen, stood with a brooding intensity. The twins, Hykee and Lokee, traded blows in the dirt while Kova experimented with the silent, jagged edges of the Void. Koa practiced her lightning strikes, her movements fueled by a desperate need to match her brothers.
On the high stone platform, Kalamity and Leona watched with pride that was slowly being strangled by concern. Beside them stood the head of the Jaeren clan. The Whiteflame children watched from the sidelines, their eyes critical, searching for a single crack in the Speedhardt legacy.
"They grow stronger every day," Leona murmured. She leaned closer to Kalamity, her voice a ghost of a sound. "Koma's Blood Act is sharpening. It's a dangerous gift, but he's managing the strain. "Kalamity's face was grave. He had given Koma permission to use the forbidden technique today to ensure their dominance remained undisputed.
"He must learn to command it and Kota... his sickness worries me more with each passing moon."
Down on the field, six year old Kota clutched a wooden sword. He was small, but his eyes were unnaturally sharp. He watched Koma spar against the eldest Whiteflame heir, his heart hammering with a simple, pure hope.
"Come on, little brother," Koma called out, wiping sweat from his brow. He even offered a faint smile. "Show us what you've learned. Show the Whiteflame children what a Speedhardt can do."
Koa paused, her hands crackling with residual sparks. "Yeah, Kota! Don't hold back! Let's see if you can keep up with the big kids." Kota stepped forward. He wanted to belong. He wanted to be a titan among the legends.
I can do this. I'll make them proud.
The moment he swung the wooden blade, the world broke. The midday sun seemed to dim as his pupils leaked a thick, black essence. A wild surge of raw Yen erupted from his small frame, rolling across the grass in dark, predatory waves.
The blast caught Koma across the chest and arm, tearing through his tunic and carving deep, jagged gashes into his flesh. The force threw Kota back, leaving black sear marks across his own skin.
Koma staggered, hissing through gritted teeth as he hit one knee. Driven by instinct and his father's permission, he unleashed his Blood Act. A red haze knitted his flesh back together, but the silver, puckered scars remained.
They would stay there forever, a permanent mark of the day his brother broke him without trying. Kota cried out as the sickness overwhelmed his nerves. His body jerked in a horrific contortion, his bones sounding like folding paper. Then, his power activated a defense that froze everyone on the field.
A swirling red and black Yen cocoon swallowed him. It looked less like a shield and more like a mouth. It pulsed with a violent, ancient rhythm, lashing out with dark tendrils that hissed against the air.
The Whiteflame heir stared in terror. His legendary flames were nothing compared to this anomaly. Hykee and Lokee stood in helpless silence, while Kova's gaze remained unreadable, fixed on the pulsing shell.
When the cocoon finally cracked, a trembling Kota emerged. The scars and burns that should have marked him were gone. His skin was flawless, as if the trauma had never happened. "He just healed himself," Koa whispered, the lightning fading from her fingertips. "Like it was nothing."
The unease was immediate. They had all bled for every inch of their power, but Kota had manifested a god like restoration without a single day of labor.
Leona leaped from the platform to cradle him, but Kalamity's voice was like falling stone. "This power is too dangerous. Kota's birthright is unmatched, but uncontrolled, it endangers us all. From today, his training is isolated. He stays in the secluded wing."
The decision settled like poison. As the siblings were dismissed, the seeds of resentment took root. Later that evening, Koma stood alone in his room, tracing the fresh scars in the mirror.
His reflection hardened as jealousy burned in his veins.
Born with everything, Koma whispered to the cold glass. A body that can house the Void and a sickness that guards him while he sleeps. I've had to fight for every scrap of my power. It's a stolen weapon that cuts me every time I hold it. But him? He doesn't even have to try.
The world bends to protect him. He gripped the edge of the vanity until the wood groaned. He's a king who doesn't know he wears a crown. I'm the one who has to build the throne. This was the moment his hatred crystallized.
While the young servant Leiya was tasked with bringing meals to the secluded wing, Koma began to plan. The night was deep when he stepped into the halls. He needed to find Kova. He needed a way to change the path they were on.