Her words cut through the chaos like a knife. The other parents, who had been busy searching for their children or comforting their own, looked up in shock. Alex's father, his blue hair tousled and his grey eyes filled with a mixture of concern and frustration, hurried to intervene.
"Calm down, please!" he pleaded, trying to hold his wife back as she moved closer to Alex. "It's not his fault. He was just trying to help!"
But the mother's eyes were fixed on Alex, her gaze accusatory and unrelenting. "How could it not be his fault?" she demanded, her voice rising. "Ever since he was born, it's been one disaster after another. This is just the latest proof. It's always been a bad omen!"
Alex stood there, his heart sinking further with each word. He looked down at his clothes, now drenched in the purple mucus of the alien creatures he had fought. The sight was a stark reminder of the battle he had endured, and it made the accusations feel even more real. His clothes were stained, a visual testament to the chaos and destruction that had unfolded, but also a mark of his struggle to protect Leo.
He felt the weight of his mother's words, her accusations echoing in his mind. He wanted to speak up, to defend himself, but the words caught in his throat. His father's attempts to calm his mother seemed futile, and the harsh reality of his situation pressed down on him.
"Look at him!" his mother continued, her voice wavering between fury and despair. "He's covered in that... that alien goo! This is all a sign of bad luck. He's always been a problem!"
Her accusations were loud and clear, and Alex's father struggled to hold back his frustration. "We need to focus on Leo, on what's best for him right now," he said, his voice firm but weary. "Alex was only trying to help. He didn't cause this."
But his words seemed lost in the storm of his wife's hysteria. Alex remained silent, his gaze fixed on the ground, feeling the weight of his mother's condemnation and the burden of his stained clothes. The realization of his isolation and the harsh reality of his family's perception crashed down on him.
As the hunters continued to secure the area, clearing out the last remnants of the alien creatures and closing any remaining rifts, the parents around them were finally able to relax, if only slightly. Reunited families clung to each other, their relief as they began to make their way back toward the school gates.
Alex watched as more and more children were gathered into their parent's arms, the tension of the day beginning to lift as the danger passed. He could see the way his mother held onto Leo, her entire world focused on him. The way their father's hand rested on Leo's shoulder, was a gesture of protection and pride. It was a scene of love and reassurance—a scene that didn't include Alex.
The hunters' presence was still strong, their vigilance unrelenting as they maintained their perimeter around the school. Now and then, one would glance in Alex's direction, but none of them approached him. He was just another child in their eyes, lost in the shuffle of the aftermath.
Eventually, his parents began to move toward the exit, their attention still firmly on Leo. His father, without even glancing back, hesitantly reached out and placed a hand on Alex's shoulder, guiding him along with them. It was a brief, almost mechanical gesture, devoid of any real connection or comfort.
As they walked through the school gates and into the waiting car, Alex trailed behind, his footsteps heavy with the weight of everything that had transpired. He climbed into the backseat, taking his usual place by the window, and stared out at the darkening sky as the car began to move.
Leo continued to talk about the attack, recounting the terrifying moments with a mixture of fear and excitement. Their parents listened intently, offering words of comfort and praise. But Alex remained silent, his thoughts distant as he replayed the encounter with Elias over and over in his mind.
"The world won't accept someone they fear," Elias had said. The words echoed in Alex's mind, a bitter truth he had long known but never fully accepted. He had done everything he could to live a normal life, to blend in and be just another child. But now, as he sat in the car, surrounded by a family that would never truly understand him, he wondered if that life was ever really possible.
As the car drove away from the school, the city lights blurred into streaks of color against the night sky, and Alex's thoughts drifted further away. His parents' voices, Leo's excited chatter—all of it became background noise as he sank deeper into his mind. The world outside was still reeling from the attack, but inside, Alex was already miles away, lost in the growing realization that no matter how hard he tried, he would always be different.
*****
Kael Thorne sat alone in his dimly lit study, the silence broken only by the crackling of the fireplace. The weight of his recent conversation with The Watcher lingered heavily on his mind. The enigmatic child, Alex, had sparked a sense of unease that Kael couldn't ignore. It was clear that the boy's fate was intertwined with something far greater, and to navigate this uncertain path, Kael needed more than just his instincts. He needed guidance from another source, someone with a different perspective.
With a sigh, Kael reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small, silver coin engraved with a winged sandal—an unmistakable symbol of Hermes, the Greek god of messengers, travelers, and tricksters. Holding the coin between his fingers, Kael closed his eyes and whispered the words that would summon the god.
The room's temperature dropped slightly, and the flames in the fireplace flickered wildly before dimming. A soft, mischievous chuckle echoed through the room, and when Kael opened his eyes, he found himself no longer alone.
Hermes stood before him, a tall, slender figure draped in a cloak that shimmered with an otherworldly light. His eyes gleamed with a playful, almost impish energy, and his lips curled into a smirk that suggested he knew far more than he let on. The god's presence was both disarming and unnerving—a blend of charm and unpredictability.
"Well, well, well," Hermes drawled, his voice smooth as silk, "Kael Thorne, the ever-so-serious president of the Hunter Association. To what do I owe the pleasure of this summons?" He twirled a caduceus—the staff entwined with snakes—lazily in his hand, his expression one of amused curiosity.
Kael didn't flinch under Hermes' gaze, though he knew better than to let his guard down around the god. "Hermes, I need your help," he said, his tone respectful but firm. "There's a boy—Alex. He's different. Even The Watcher can't fully see his fate, and I'm worried that I might not be able to guide him alone."
Hermes raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "A boy, you say? And one who's caught the attention of the ever-watchful Watcher? How intriguing. You know, Kael, mortals rarely understand the true nature of fate, and even the gods can be surprised by the twists and turns it takes. But you're right to be cautious. This Alex must be someone special if he's got you all worked up."
Kael nodded, his expression serious. "He's different. He's hiding something—something from his past life. I can feel it. And I need to make sure he doesn't become a threat to himself or others. That's why I'm asking you to help me."
Hermes laughed softly, the sound almost musical. "Oh, Kael, always so serious. But I like that about you—it makes our conversations so much more entertaining. Fine, I'll help you, but you know how I operate. I don't do anything for free." He leaned in closer, his eyes narrowing with a sly glint. "What's in it for me?"
Kael expected this. Hermes was known for his trickery and bargaining, but Kael was prepared. "Information," Kael offered, his voice steady. "You've always been curious about the dealings of the gods and mortals alike. I'll give you access to all the knowledge I gather as president of the Hunter Association—intel on powerful hunters, classified missions, even the whispers of conspiracies that cross my desk."
Hermes' eyes gleamed with interest, the offer appealing to him. He was a god who thrived on knowledge, secrets, and the thrill of outwitting others. "You drive a hard bargain, Kael," Hermes admitted, his tone admiring. "But I do love a good deal."
He extended his hand, the air around him crackling with energy as the contract began to form. A shimmering scroll appeared between them, glowing with divine power. The terms were clear—Hermes would lend his guidance and cunning to Kael, and in return, Kael would provide him with the valuable information he craved.
Kael hesitated for only a moment before clasping Hermes' hand. The scroll vanished in a flash of light, and Kael felt the weight of the contract settle into place—a binding agreement between mortal and god.
Hermes grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Well then, Kael, it seems we're partners now. I'll keep an eye on this Alex of yours, and I'll make sure you're prepared for whatever surprises fate throws your way. But remember, with me around, things are never boring."
Kael nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Hermes."
Hermes gave a dramatic bow, his cloak billowing around him like a living thing. "I'll be in touch, Kael. And don't worry—I'll make sure this boy's path is as interesting as possible. After all, what's life without a little excitement?"
With that, Hermes vanished as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving Kael alone in the dimly lit room once more. The fire crackled back to life, casting flickering shadows on the walls. Kael sat back in his chair, the weight of his decision settling over him.
He had made a deal with a god—a cunning, unpredictable god who thrived on chaos and trickery. But Kael knew it was necessary. Alex's future was too uncertain, too important to leave to chance. With Hermes' guidance, Kael hoped to navigate the complexities of the boy's fate, ensuring that when the time came, Alex would be ready to face whatever destiny had in store.
As the night deepened, Kael allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The road ahead would be challenging, but he was no stranger to difficult paths. With Hermes by his side and The Watcher keeping vigil, he felt a renewed sense of purpose.
Kael Thorne had seen countless things in his long life—wars, invasions, and the rise and fall of empires—but one constant remained: his youthful appearance. Despite the wisdom and experience that came with age, his outward form betrayed none of it.
He appeared as a child of no more than ten years old, a paradoxical figure leading the most powerful organization in the world. To the outside world, this was a mystery, but to those few who knew the truth, it was both a blessing and a curse.
Now, as the president of the Hunter Association, Kael was a figure of both fear and reverence. Most people saw him as a prodigy, a child genius with wisdom beyond his years. Only a select few knew the truth: that Kael had lived for centuries, his soul growing older even as his body remained frozen in time.
It was only through the use of a magical bracelet, an artifact of immense power, that Kael could assume the appearance of an adult. But without it, he reverted to the form of a ten-year-old boy—a strange and unsettling reality for someone of his stature.
Kael sighed as he sat in his office, staring at the bracelet on his wrist. He could feel the weight of the years pressing down on him, the memories of countless battles, and the burden of leadership heavy on his shoulders. Yet to the outside world, he was a child, a boy with a cherubic face and a voice that belied the gravity of his thoughts.
He unclasped the bracelet from his wrist, feeling the familiar shift as his body reverted to its true form. The reflection in the glass now showed a ten-year-old boy with the eyes of a veteran, a juxtaposition that had unnerved many who had met him. But for Kael, it was simply who he was—a child with the soul of a warrior, ready to face whatever came next.
And as he looked out into the night, the stars twinkling above, Kael knew that Hermes was watching, always amused by the choices of mortals. The god's laughter echoed faintly in the back of Kael's mind, a reminder that the road ahead was never straightforward and that sometimes, the greatest power lay in the most unexpected forms.