Kael waited until the sun had fully set, and the garden was bathed in shadow. The house was quiet now, everyone either asleep or busy elsewhere. It was the perfect time to test this strange new power.
He took a deep breath and held out his hand. His mind raced for something simple to create. A chair. Yeah, that'd work. He pictured it clearly—a plain wooden chair, nothing fancy. Just enough to see if this was real.
The moment he focused on the image, a strange warmth bloomed in his chest. It spread through him like a ripple, and before he could even process it, the chair was there. Right in front of him, as if it had always existed.
Kael blinked, stepping back. His heart was racing again, but not from fear. It was excitement. He leaned down, running his hands over the chair. It was solid, the wood smooth and cool to the touch.
"This is real," he whispered, almost laughing.
But then something hit him. He didn't feel tired, not even a little. He'd expected the process to drain him, but it was like he hadn't done anything at all.
[System: Creation complete. Energy usage: Negligible.]
The words floated in his mind, calm and straightforward. Kael frowned, glancing at his hands again.
"Negligible? That doesn't make sense," he muttered. He'd just made a whole chair from nothing. How could that take almost no energy?
He decided to test it further. He focused again, this time imagining a small wooden table to go with the chair. The same warmth spread through him, and with barely any effort, the table appeared. It looked just as real as the chair, perfectly matching what he'd pictured.
Still, no exhaustion. No strain. It was as if his body wasn't even involved in the process.
"Alright... what about destroying it?" he said to himself.
Kael placed his hand on the table and focused again, this time imagining it breaking apart, disintegrating into nothing. The warmth came back, but it was sharper this time, like a spark instead of a ripple. The table vanished in an instant, leaving behind only empty space.
[System: Destruction complete. Energy usage: Negligible.]
Kael stood there, stunned. He had expected some kind of backlash, maybe even pain, but there was nothing. He felt completely fine.
"So, creating and destroying things is... easy?" he asked aloud. It didn't make sense. Shouldn't this kind of power have limits?
The system's voice returned, calm as ever.
[System: Your energy source is Primordial Chaos. It is infinite and self-sustaining. Basic creations and destructions require minimal energy due to your innate mastery over these abilities. However, more complex or large-scale actions will require greater focus and refinement of your energy.]
Kael nodded slowly, the explanation settling in his mind. He had infinite energy, but the complexity of what he created or destroyed would determine how much effort it took.
He looked around the garden, deciding to push a little further. He closed his eyes and imagined a small fountain, complete with flowing water. This time, he focused more on the details—the curve of the stone, the way the water would splash and ripple.
When he opened his eyes, the fountain stood before him, the sound of water filling the quiet garden. It was beautiful, almost too perfect.
Kael stared at it, a mix of awe and confusion washing over him. He felt nothing—no drain, no fatigue, nothing to suggest he'd just made something so intricate.
"This... is insane," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.
He spent the next hour creating and destroying different things—a stack of books, a lantern, even a small metal dagger. Each time, it felt the same. Easy. Natural.
By the time he was done, the garden looked untouched, as if he hadn't just turned it into his personal workshop. Kael sat down on the chair he'd created earlier, his mind buzzing with possibilities.
Whatever this power was, it wasn't normal. And he had a feeling he was just scratching the surface.
Later Tha Night
The King sat by the window, staring out into the darkened courtyard. His face was tense, the weight of the kingdom's troubles etched into every line. Behind him, the Queen paced back and forth, her long robes swishing against the marble floor. The silence between them was thick, almost suffocating, but it was finally broken by the Queen's voice.
"This can't continue," she said, her tone sharp. "The rumors are spreading faster than we can control them. People are talking about Kael being... pathless. Do you understand what that means for us? For the kingdom?"
The King sighed, rubbing his temples. "Of course, I understand. Do you think I don't see the looks on the nobles' faces? Do you think I don't hear their whispers? Every day, they're questioning his legitimacy as the heir. They're questioning me."
The Queen stopped pacing, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Then what do we do? Sit back and watch them tear him apart? Watch them tear us apart? You're the King, do something!"
The King turned to face her, his jaw tight. "I have a plan," he said, his voice low.
The Queen raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "And what is this brilliant plan of yours?"
He hesitated, as if weighing his words. Finally, he spoke. "We bring him here."
The Queen's expression froze, her eyes narrowing. "Him?" she repeated, her voice dangerously quiet.
The King nodded. "My other son."
The room fell into a cold, heavy silence. The Queen didn't move, didn't blink. When she finally spoke, her voice was icy. "Your illegitimate son. The bastard you swore to keep far away from this palace."
"He's not just a bastard," the King said defensively. "He has potential. He's already showing signs of—"
"Stop," the Queen snapped, her words cutting through the air like a blade. She took a step closer, her eyes locked on his. "The only reason that boy is still alive is because you promised me—swore to me—that he would never set foot in this palace. That he would never interfere with my son's place as heir. And now, you want to bring him here? Because Kael is pathless? Do you even hear yourself?"
The King stood his ground, but his shoulders tensed under her glare. "It's not about replacing Kael. It's about securing the kingdom. If he can—"
"If?" the Queen interrupted, her voice rising. "You think the nobles will see it that way? You think the people will accept some bastard as part of the royal family? Bringing him here will only give them more fuel to question Kael's right to the throne!"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop as the Queen's fury filled the space. She took another step forward, her eyes cold and unyielding. "You're a fool if you think this will solve anything. That boy's existence is a stain on this family, and now you want to parade him in front of the court? For what? To fix your mistakes? To make up for your guilt?"
The King clenched his fists, his voice rising in frustration. "This isn't about guilt! It's about survival! The kingdom needs strength, and if Kael can't—"
"Don't," the Queen cut him off, her voice trembling with anger. "Don't you dare say that. Kael is our son. My son. And I will not let you throw him aside for some child born of your indiscretions."
The King opened his mouth to argue but stopped. The fire in the Queen's eyes was undeniable, and for a moment, he looked away, ashamed. The room remained silent, the tension hanging heavy between them.
Finally, the Queen turned her back to him, her voice quieter but no less firm. "If you bring that boy here, you'll be tearing this family apart. And don't think for a second that I'll stand by and let it happen."
The King didn't respond. He just stood there, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. Outside, the wind howled softly, the only sound in the stillness of the night.