Kael Deryn leaned against the rugged edge of an obsidian cliff the bitter wind was cutting through the fold of his black coat. Under, the bleakness of the Veil expanded unendingly, it was a scarred waste land where even the shadows seemed as if they were afraid to stay for too long. It was a kind of place that whispered of forgotten nightmares and sang of unburied sins.
He adjusted the braid that was over his shoulder and his golden eyes narrowed against the piercing cold. A small mist snaked around his feet like a living thing and clinging to him as though it recognised him as its master.
"Are you done yet?" His voice was as sharp as the knife he spun between his fingers, a flickering light of silver in the dark. It wasn't impatience that covered his words but just boredom though glazed with just the faintest hint of mockery.
Behind him was the village healer, a trembling man with sweat soaked robes, fumbled with some herbs and ointments. The child on the slab before them shuddered, it was a girl barely eight her breaths were uneven. Her skin glimmered with a strange glaze, veins blackened as though the corruption of the Veil itself had entered he fragile body. She didn't have much time left.
The healer's hands trembled as he applied a paste to her chest. "I-I'm trying, my lord. B-But the fever—"
Kael turned, his silhouette a looming figure against the flickering torchlight of the shabby hut. "If you are going to fail," he drawled, "do it fast. I have no patience for prolonged tragedies."
The healer froze, his mouth was opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. Kael's lips quirked with a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It wasn't amusement, well not completely. There was actually something cruel in it as if he found some kind of bitter satisfaction watching humans' struggle.
The girl convulsed, a wet choking sound escaping from her lips. Her mother, standing by the doorway with hollow eyes and hands clasped let out a restrained sob.
Kael let out a sigh, lifting off the wall with lackadaisical grace. "Step aside," he commanded, his voice low and commanding enough to strip the healer of the little defiance he might have had left.
The man scrambled back nearly tripping over his feet in an urgency to obey. Kael moved to the slab, the glow of his eyes were dimming as he studied the girl. Her breathes were shallow, ragged, and her small frame seemed to breakdown inwards with every passing second. For just a heartbeat, his face softened not enough for anyone to notice it, but enough for him to despise himself.
"This is why I hate boredom" he muttered under his breath. With a snap of his wrist, he drew a thin line of dark energy from the air. It squirmed and hissed like a snake coiling around his fingers with malicious intent.
The mother gasped recoiling. "W-What are you doing? Is that—?"
"Quiet," Kael snapped with his tone laced with authority that tolerated no argument. The woman's mouth clamped and her tears falling quietly now.
He pressed his hand to the girl's chest, the dark energy sinking into her like ink pouring into water. Her body arched her eyes snapping open with a burst of unearthly light. For just a single, agonizing moment Kael felt the pulse of her life—fragile, flickering like the flame of a candle in the wind.
And then, it steadied.
The girl's breathing evened, her veins fading back to pale pink as the corruption withdrew. Kael pulled his hand away stretching his finger as if the act had left it stiff. It obviously hadn't, of course. The cost of such a spell was negligible for him though it left an unpleasant taste in him mouth, a bitter reminder of the light magic he wielded freely once now tainted and twisted by his darker powers.
"She'll live," he said curtly, stepping back as if distancing himself from his own actions.
The healer fell to his knees, his eyes wide with disbelief. "My lord, you—you saved her! A miracle!"
Kael's expression hardened. "Don't mistake necessity for kindness," he said coldly. "It wasn't a miracle. It was an experiment."
But his words fell on deaf ears. The healer turned to the child's mother, his voice trembling with awe. "Do you see? He used his power to heal her! He is blessed!"
Kael stiffened, his hand twitching toward the hilt of the dagger at his side. "Don't start," he warned. "Whatever fantasy you're conjuring, let it die now."
But it was too late. The woman fell to her knees beside the healer, clasping her hands together as if in prayer. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Thank you, my lord. You are truly the Light's chosen."
Kael's eyes narrowed, his irritation giving way to a slow-burning anger. He hadn't done this for gratitude. He'd done it to sate his curiosity, to see how mortal bodies reacted to the intertwining of light and shadow magic. It had been a whim, nothing more.
"I'm not your savior," he said sharply, his voice cutting through their reverence like a blade. "Don't confuse mercy with virtue. Next time, I'll let her die."
The words hung in the air, bitter and final. But the healer and the mother didn't flinch. If anything, their awe deepened, as if his cold demeanor only made his actions seem more noble in their eyes.
Kael turned away, his jaw clenched as he stepped into the icy night. The wind howled around him, carrying with it the distant murmur of the Veil's restless magic. He didn't need to look back to know they were still watching him, their gratitude lingering in the air like an unwelcome ghost.
A low growl escaped him as he vanished into the shadows, the mist swallowing him whole. This was why he hated boredom. It always led to foolishness—and now, it seemed, to consequences.
Unbeknownst to Kael, far above in the celestial realm, a faint light flared to life within an ancient artifact. It was a broken thing, its mechanisms corroded by time and misuse, but it hummed with an undeniable energy as it detected something—someone—it had not sensed in a long time.
The artifact, shaped like a golden sunburst, began to glow. Its light spilled through the cracks of its forgotten chamber, illuminating the carved prophecy etched into the walls.
And far below, in the mortal world, Kael Deryn's quiet act of boredom began to weave the first thread of chaos—a thread that would unravel gods and humans alike.