In the quiet town of Eldwyn, nestled between mist-laced rivers and blooming stoneflower fields, a boy was born beneath a sky split by twin moons. The midwives would later say they had never seen a newborn look so calm. No cries. No flailing. Only a gentle gaze — deep, ancient, and impossibly focused.
They named him Caelum. It meant "sky."
His mother, Elienne, held him close, cradling him in her arms while tears sparkled in her eyes. "He's perfect," she whispered. "Too perfect."
His father, Daren Verrian, laughed softly, brushing a silver lock from Caelum's tiny brow. "He's ours," he said. "And no matter how bright he shines… he'll always be our boy first."
From that moment onward, the world could only try to keep up.
Age 2:
Caelum spoke in full sentences before his second birthday.
"Father, gravity affects the arc of your sword," he said while watching his father train in the yard.
Daren nearly dropped the blade.
Age 5:
He took apart a magical weather orb to figure out how it summoned rain, then put it back together — with modifications.
It now snowed strawberry petals over the whole town once a week.
The townsfolk loved it. The mayor was confused. Caelum simply called it "aesthetics."
Age 8:
He invented a machine that turned drawings into floating 3D light projections.
He gave the first one to his mother — a blooming rose, turning in the air.
She cried, hugged him tightly, and whispered, "You give me miracles, my little light."
By Age 10:
He had read every book in the local library, deciphered several forbidden scripts hidden in the older shelves, and casually rewrote the theory behind mana-flow stabilization in enchanted items.
Word spread. First scholars came to visit. Then nobles. Then the government.
But Caelum never changed.
He still ran home to his mother's stew. Still helped his father fix fences. Still brought his inventions to the local school so other kids could learn.
The Verrian home stayed full of warmth, music, and the scent of fresh bread.
"Don't forget where you came from," his father said once.
Caelum smiled. "I couldn't. It's where the stars feel softest."
Age 13: The Empire Calls
The Empire of Zephyraul was the most powerful force across all seven continents.Its capital, Xelvaris, was a spire city floating above the land, held aloft by divine engines and arcane pressure. Their university — The Imperial Nexus of Supreme Knowledge — was considered the center of all science, spells, and secrets.
When Caelum received a golden-lettered invitation, his parents' pride was only matched by their sorrow.
"We always knew," Elienne whispered, stroking his cheek. "That one day the world would try to take you from us."
Daren knelt before him and pressed an old sword into his hand — a family relic, never drawn.
"I don't expect you to use it," he said, "but I want you to remember something. The mind is a blade, Cael. But sometimes… the world only respects steel."
Caelum nodded, silently tucking it into his traveling pack.
Then he hugged them both.
"I'll come back," he promised. "When I've learned everything."