章 2: Chapter 2: The Weight of Expectation
Time was difficult to track in Kael's new body. His days and nights blurred together, a continuous cycle of sleep, feeding, and the strange sensations of being carried from place to place. His newborn body was frail, his limbs barely able to move with any coordination, but his mind—his mind remained sharp.
Though trapped in an infant's body, Kael was aware. His memories of his past life, though hazy at times, gave him clarity beyond his physical state. He was no ordinary child, and he would not accept living like one. He listened, watched, and absorbed everything around him.
The Drakhar estate was a large and imposing place. He often heard voices around him, servants and attendants whispering, sometimes discussing him, sometimes discussing his brother Riven. The name came up often in those hushed conversations, spoken with admiration and awe.
"Riven is already progressing quickly," they would say. "A true heir to the Drakhar Clan."
Riven. Kael's older brother. Though he had yet to see him properly, Kael understood that Riven was important—perhaps the most important person in the family after their father. That thought stirred something in Kael, though he couldn't yet name the emotion.
His mother visited him frequently, holding him close and speaking in a low, soft voice. He couldn't understand everything she said, but he caught enough to piece together parts of the world he had been reborn into.
"Your brother is already excelling in his training," she would whisper. "But you, Kael, you will be something more. I can feel it. The bloodline is strong in you."
Her words were always spoken with such certainty, but to Kael, they felt distant. He wasn't yet able to grasp the full meaning of her expectations. He was still trapped in the body of an infant, powerless to do much more than watch and listen.
Days turned into weeks, and Kael's senses began to sharpen. His vision became clearer, the world around him coming into focus. He could now make out the faces of those who tended to him, could see the grandeur of the room where he slept. The banners hung on the walls, displaying the insignia of the Drakhar Clan—two crossed swords wreathed in flame.
The power of his family was evident, even to him. The Drakhar Clan was not just a family; it was a force. He heard it in the way the servants spoke, in the reverence they showed his parents and brother. But what was his place in this powerful clan? That question lingered in his mind, unformed but persistent.
One afternoon, while Kael lay in his crib, he heard the door to the room creak open. Heavy footsteps approached, more deliberate than those of the servants or nurses. He felt a presence looming over him, and though his body remained still, his mind was alert.
It was Riven.
His brother was older, stronger. Kael could sense the difference in power even though he was still too young to fully comprehend it. Riven peered down into the crib, his gaze assessing.
"So this is my little brother," Riven said, his tone light but carrying a hint of condescension. "I wonder if you'll ever be like me."
Kael's eyes met Riven's, though he couldn't respond. His small, helpless body betrayed him, unable to reflect the thoughts racing through his mind. But even as an infant, Kael felt a stirring deep within him. He didn't know what it was—perhaps the faint ember of defiance, perhaps something more.
Riven's smirk widened as he straightened up. "Maybe one day you'll surprise me. But I doubt it." He turned and walked away, leaving Kael alone once more.
The encounter left Kael with a sense of unease, though he couldn't fully grasp why. Riven was powerful, of that much he was certain. But the way Riven spoke to him, the way he looked down at him, stirred something deep inside. Kael didn't know his place in this family yet, but he was certain of one thing.
He would not live in Riven's shadow.
As the days passed, Kael's body began to grow stronger. His hands, once clumsy, could now grasp objects with more control. His legs, still weak, could kick with more force. But he was still an infant, and the limitations of his physical form frustrated him.
His mind, however, remained active. He listened to every conversation, tried to understand the world around him. He heard his parents speak of power, of legacy, of the Drakhar Clan's mastery of shadowflame. But there was something else. Something just beyond the edge of his awareness.
It started as a faint murmur, like a distant voice whispering in a language he didn't understand. At first, Kael thought it was just his imagination, the remnants of a dream. But the whispers continued, growing stronger with each passing night.
The voice was deep, almost imperceptible, but it was there, lingering in the back of his mind. It wasn't a comforting voice, nor was it entirely threatening. It was... curious.
Kael couldn't make sense of it yet, but the whispers stirred something within him, something that went beyond the Drakhar legacy. He didn't know what the voice was or what it wanted, but he felt drawn to it, even though it unsettled him.
Weeks passed, and Kael's awareness continued to grow. He could now sit up with some effort, could move his arms and legs more deliberately. His mother continued her visits, always speaking of the future, of his potential.
"Your brother is training hard," she would say, her gaze distant. "But you, Kael, you will be different. There is a fire in you that I see burning brighter every day."
Kael didn't fully understand what she meant, but he absorbed her words nonetheless. Fire, shadows, power—they were all tied to this family, to the world he had been reborn into. But there was something else. Something that the whispers hinted at, though he still couldn't grasp it.
He didn't yet know his purpose. He didn't know what path he would take in this world. But the whispers, the faint murmur of something darker and deeper, promised answers.
And Kael knew that when the time came, he would follow those whispers.
Wherever they led.
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