Elijah's first year passed in a blur of lessons and observation. His days were filled with the mundane activities of a child—playing, feeding, and sleeping. Yet beneath the surface, there was an undeniable undercurrent of change. His control over magic grew steadily, though still in its infancy, and his mind was always a step ahead of his peers. He could sense the undercurrents of power in Eldora, the subtle ways in which politics and magic intertwined, how the Veylora family, with its ancient heritage, navigated a world of shifting allegiances.
But for all the comforts of his new life, the emptiness from his past life lingered. In his former world, Jin Asura had found no satisfaction in domination; he had lived only to achieve perfection, to become the greatest. But even that had been hollow. Now, reborn in a world where magic was the ultimate power, Elijah found himself torn between his past self and the future he was expected to create.
Despite his family's encouragement, he had no interest in simply walking the path they laid out for him—rising through the ranks, from Novice to Sovereign. That path was a slow crawl. Elijah knew that to truly wield the power he desired, he would have to surpass it, break free from the constraints of Eldora's rigid system. And the only way to do that was through his own means.
One morning, as he sat on a plush mat, his gaze drifted to the crystal sphere resting on the table in front of him. He had grown accustomed to manipulating objects with his mana, but today, his attention was focused elsewhere. The sphere wasn't enough—it was a tool, a toy. Elijah wanted more. He needed to test the limits of his power.
The family estate was silent as Lyra and Magnus attended to their affairs in another wing of the house. Caelus had gone off on one of his frequent missions, leaving Elijah to his thoughts. This was the perfect moment.
His fingers flexed, and the air around him seemed to still. With a whisper of intent, he summoned his mana, feeling the currents of power coil around him like a serpent. The magic surged through his body—wild, untamed—and he let it flow, letting the energy guide him.
The crystal sphere on the table began to tremble.
At first, it was a slight vibration, a flicker of movement. But soon, the sphere began to hum, glowing brighter, as though reacting to Elijah's magic. His mana twisted, condensed, and then—crack—the sphere shattered into a thousand pieces, scattering across the room like stars. A thin, ethereal glow lingered in the air, dissipating slowly.
Elijah blinked, his eyes narrowing. The destruction had been accidental, but the power had been exhilarating. He could feel the rush, the almost intoxicating surge of energy that coursed through him, the echo of his past life's bloodlust stirring within him.
"Magnus will not be pleased," Elijah muttered to himself, the corner of his lips curling into a faint smile. It mattered little. He had no interest in walking the line his father had drawn for him. This world was too small to contain him.
It was then that Lyra entered, her presence as graceful and warm as ever. Her gaze immediately fell on the scattered pieces of the crystal sphere. Her expression faltered for just a moment, and Elijah felt the sharpness of her gaze as she took in the still-writhing energy in the room.
"Elijah…" she began, her voice calm yet firm. "What have you done?"
Elijah looked up at her with a mixture of curiosity and defiance. He knew his mother cared for him deeply, but she was bound by the traditions of their family. She would not understand. "I was testing my limits," he said simply.
Lyra's eyes softened, but her concern was clear. "You must be careful. Your power—it's unlike anything I've seen. If you let it run wild, there will be consequences."
He knew she was right. Her words were not those of a mere mother—they were the wisdom of someone who had seen the world's dangers firsthand. But that didn't matter. There were too many limits placed on him, too many walls to scale. He was not going to be confined to a cage of tradition, no matter how well-meaning it might be.
"I'll be fine," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, though it held an edge of finality. "I'm not like the others."
The door to the room opened just then, and Magnus stepped in, his golden eyes sharp as he assessed the scene. His gaze swept over the broken crystal and then to Elijah, who stood unwavering.
"You've already begun to test your limits, I see," Magnus said, his voice calm but his eyes gleaming with something more. "You're right. You are not like the others. But you must understand—power must be controlled. Your strength, if not properly guided, will consume you."
Elijah felt a flicker of something old stir within him, a reminder of his past life. "I don't need to be controlled. I will control everything."
Magnus studied his grandson with a careful expression, one that held both pride and caution. "We'll see, Elijah. But remember—power that is left unchecked is a danger to everyone."
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Elijah's gaze met his father's, unyielding. The seed had been planted: there was no going back. He had tasted the freedom of power, and nothing would stand in his way.
As Magnus turned to leave, he paused. "There is something you should know. The demons on the southern continent… their movements grow bolder. There are whispers of a coming storm, a war unlike any the world has seen. The time may soon come when you will be called to stand with your family."
Elijah's heart skipped a beat. Demons? A new threat? It didn't matter. He would face whatever came his way. But one thing was certain: the path ahead would be filled with even greater challenges. And he would rise to meet them—not as a child, but as the force of nature he had always been.
As the door closed behind Magnus, Elijah stood alone, the lingering remnants of his magic fading into the air. He was not a mere heir to the Veylora family. He was a king in the making—one who would shape this world according to his will.
And the storm that was coming? It would be nothing compared to the one he would unleash.