The world returned to Elias in fragmented bursts of color and sound, like a shattered kaleidoscope slowly piecing itself back together. First, the soft, muted glow of sunlight filtering through heavy curtains. Then, the faint, familiar scent of lavender from his mother's room. Finally, the distant chirping of birds, a gentle counterpoint to the dull, persistent throb in every muscle of his tiny body. He tried to stretch, a groan escaping him, and found his limbs protesting with a chorus of aches and stiffness. It felt as though he'd run a marathon, then fallen down a flight of stairs. "This is what happens when a toddler tries to wield the power of a small sun," he thought with a dry, internal chuckle.
Lesson learned: even infinite power has physical limitations.
A soft gasp pulled him fully into wakefulness. Lady Elara was seated beside his bed, her hand resting lightly on his forehead, her usually composed face etched with worry lines that now smoothed into immense relief. Her eyes, a vibrant green, shone with unshed tears.
"Elias, my darling, you're awake!" Her voice was a soft, melodious sigh, thick with emotion. She leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to his brow, her embrace gentle, as if he were made of fragile glass.
"You gave me such a fright."
Elias managed a weak smile, his tongue feeling like sandpaper.
"Mama," he rasped, the word a struggle.
She quickly poured a glass of water from a pitcher on the bedside table, holding it to his lips. The cool liquid was a blessing, soothing his parched throat. He drank greedily, feeling a small surge of strength.
"Are you in pain, my love?" she asked, her thumb stroking his cheek.
He shook his head, wincing as a sharp twinge shot through his neck. That strange, glass-like shield had worked, but it hadn't come without a cost.
"The rebound, I suppose. Or maybe just the sheer physical shock of resisting Aina's attack." He mentally cataloged the sensation, already trying to deduce the mechanics of his body's reaction.
"Flow-users probably build up a tolerance over time, a resilience. My vessel is just… not quite up to par yet."
Lady Elara helped him sit up, propping pillows behind him.
"You rest now. Breakfast will be ready soon. Ortis and Aina are waiting." Her voice was light, but Elias caught the lingering tremor in her hand as she adjusted his blankets. His mother was usually unflappable, a lady of grace and quiet strength. To see her so visibly distressed, even now, was a stark reminder of how close he'd come to truly scaring her. The thought of death, which had flickered so casually through his mind during the fight, now felt like a cruel joke. He had nearly made his mother cry. No more contemplating that, not if it affects her like this. Well maybe in future...
After a few more minutes of rest, and a quick, refreshing wash by a silently efficient maid, Elias made his way to the dining hall. The familiar scents of freshly baked bread, spiced eggs, and roasted meat wafted from the long table. Ortis was already seated at the head, a placid, almost bored expression on his face, sipping tea. Aina sat across from him, picking at her food with a fork, her gaze fixed on Elias the moment he entered.
She stared at him with a cold, piercing intensity. Elias shuddered. She didn't seem angry, not exactly, but her stare was unnerving, making the hairs on Elias's neck stand on end.
" Oh, great." He thought with a roll of his eyes and tried to ignore her, but her gaze felt like a physical weight, pressing down on him, making him acutely uncomfortable. He slid into his chair beside Lady Elara, trying to appear nonchalant.
Breakfast proceeded in relative silence, save for the gentle clinking of cutlery and Lady Elara's soft inquiries about Elias's well-being. Elias ate slowly, savoring the familiar flavors, his muscles still protesting with every chew. He could feel Aina's eyes on him, a constant, chilling pressure.Maybe she's trying to figure out why I haven't just spontaneously combusted yet.
"Believe me, I'm wondering too."
Finally, after the last of the plates were cleared, Ortis cleared his throat, his voice a low rumble that instantly commanded attention.
"Now, then. About yesterday's… skirmish."
Aina stiffened, her gaze still unwavering from Elias. Lady Elara clasped Elias's hand under the table, a reassuring squeeze.
"Elias," Ortis began, leaning forward slightly, his eyes, usually distant, now sharply focused.
"Your Flow is… remarkable. I've never quite encountered such a quantity in someone so young. Though it's not much, it's a significant quantity in relation to your age." He paused, taking a slow sip of his tea. Elias smiled. It means he was able to prevent too much of his flow from manifesting and this deceiving his uncle. It meant that he could at least regulate his flow to a degree. It wasn't as significant an achievement but it was a start. Ortis noticed the grin and thought Elais was being smug.
"Don't let that get to your head boy,your still unrefined in your use of Flow only able to cause it to surge forward. That's not a good technique. Flow is life force and doing that causes it to deplete faster. You're lucky you were able to move for that long without reaching your limit. I also noticed that your body seems utterly incapable of consistently manipulating it causing it to spill over the edges. Like a raging river trying to flow through a child's straw. Again that would deplete your energy faster."
Elias bristled slightly.
"You think I didn't notice that?"
"And your Flow," Ortis continued, his gaze piercing, "it was translucent. No definitive color. Most Flow-users, even children, manifest a specific hue when they begin to control their power. Aina's, for example, is a vibrant orange." He gestured vaguely towards Aina, who remained motionless, staring at Elias.
"Yours, however, was like looking at clear water, yet it possessed immense density."
Ortis shrugged, a gesture so casual it almost seemed dismissive, yet Elias knew better.
"I can't say I've seen anything quite like it. But then, you are just a toddler, aren't you? So far the youngest to awaken within our family.Perhaps your understanding of your Flow hasn't fully developed yet. Give it some time, some training, and I'm certain you'll master it and acquire your own color."
His words were reassuring, but his eyes held a calculating depth that belied his casual tone.
Then, his gaze returned to Elias, narrowing intently.
"However," Ortis continued, his voice dropping slightly, "the way you moved, Elias… dodging Aina's tendrils, your sudden surge forward… while amateurish, it was quite effective. For a three-year-old, it was… surprisingly coordinated." He paused, a strange, almost amused glint entering his eyes.
"Tell me, Elias," he wondered aloud, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "are you really a three-year-old?"
Elias stared back, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He felt a cold sweat prickle his skin.
"He knows! Or he suspects. How much? How could he possibly know?" His mind raced, searching for an excuse, a plausible denial.
Lady Elara, sensing the sudden tension, gently squeezed Elias's hand again.
"Ortis," she interjected, her voice firm, "don't tease him. You'll make him uncomfortable."
Ortis smiled, a faint, almost imperceptible curve of his lips.
"What,I can't have a little fun? Geez." He leaned back, the casual demeanor returning, but his eyes remained fixed on Elias for another lingering second before finally shifting away.
The air in the dining hall seemed to thicken. Elias exhaled slowly, a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He risked a glance at Aina. Her gaze was still locked onto him, but now a faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on her lips, as if she knew something he didn't, or shared Ortis's suspicion.
Ortis, however, wasn't finished. His eyes, no longer casual, hardened. He looked directly at Lady Elara, then back at Elias. His voice, once again, dropped, this time infused with an unmistakable seriousness.
"There's a third thing I noticed, Elara. Something far more… concerning."