Four years later, Caelum sat on a small wooden chair. He was a quiet child. He watched his father, Thalen, pace back and forth in the main hall. A sickness had come into the house. It had settled in his mother's lungs.
Elara was in her bed. Her breath was a soft, wet sound. The doctor had come. He was an old man with worried eyes. He had left a bottle of dark medicine. The medicine did not work.
Thalen stopped his pacing. He stared at the closed door of the bedroom. His shoulders were slumped. The look on his face was one of raw fear.
Caelum felt a cold knot tighten in his own chest. The feeling was sharp and unwelcome. He had crushed empires. He had faced down fleets. But this quiet fear for the woman in the bedroom was new. He did not know what to do with it.
He stood up from his chair. His small feet made no sound on the stone floor. He walked to the bedroom door and pushed it open.
The room was dark. The only light came from a single candle on the bedside table. Elara was a still shape under the blankets. Thalen was now beside her, holding her hand. He did not notice Caelum in the doorway.
Caelum's eyes fixed on the candle. The small, dancing flame was a point of light in the gloom.
The cold knot of fear in his chest grew tighter. His own breath felt thin. He stared at the flame, his focus absolute.
The candle flame shivered.
It swayed left, then right, as if caught in a strong wind. But the air in the room was still.
The flame stretched. It grew taller, reaching for the ceiling. Its yellow light turned a brilliant, pure white. For a moment, the room was filled with a bright, cold light. The air itself grew chill.
Thalen gasped. He looked up from his wife's side. "What in the gods' names…?" He looked at the window, then back at the candle.
The bright light vanished. The flame shrank back to its normal size. The chill in the air was gone.
The room was quiet again, except for Elara's soft breathing.
Thalen shook his head, a confused and worried look on his face. He dismissed it. A trick of the light. A draft from under the door.
But Caelum did not dismiss it. He stood silently in the doorway, his eyes wide. He looked from the candle to his own small hands, then back to the still form of his mother in the bed. He felt the fear inside him. He saw the effect outside him. A connection had been made.