The Arcanist Reborn

It was an ordinary day in the Kael manor—or at least, it started that way. Eryon had grown used to the rhythm of the household: the servants bustling about, his father brooding in his study, and the occasional visitors who came to speak in hushed tones of political alliances and border disputes.

But something was different today. Eryon could feel it in the hum. The usually steady rhythm was tense, vibrating with a sharpness that set him on edge.

He lay quietly in his crib, his silver eyes scanning the room. Mara had been dismissed for the afternoon, and the nursery was unusually silent. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed duller, the air heavier.

And then it came—the sound of raised voices echoing from the main hall.

Eryon tensed, his senses flaring as he reached out to the hum. The threads of energy felt frayed, chaotic, as though reflecting the rising tension in the manor.

A moment later, the door to the nursery burst open. A man dressed in black leather armor stepped inside, his face obscured by a dark hood. He carried a short blade, its edge glinting ominously in the dim light.

Eryon froze, his tiny heart pounding in his chest. The man scanned the room, his gaze landing on the crib.

"There you are," the intruder muttered, stepping closer.

The hum surged around Eryon, responding to his fear. The air crackled with energy, the faint threads of fire and wind tugging at his awareness. He didn't have time to think—only to act.

The man reached for him, but before his hand could touch the crib, Eryon lashed out with the hum. A gust of wind erupted from nowhere, slamming into the intruder and sending him stumbling backward.

The man cursed, regaining his footing. "Magic? From a baby?" he hissed, his voice filled with disbelief.

Eryon didn't stop. His mind raced as he pulled at the threads of fire, focusing on the small embers still smoldering in the nursery's hearth. With a surge of effort, he directed the heat toward the man's blade.

The metal glowed red-hot, forcing the intruder to drop it with a yelp.

But the effort left Eryon drained. His body trembled, sweat dripping down his face as the hum receded slightly, leaving him vulnerable.

The man snarled, his hand reaching for a dagger at his belt. Before he could draw it, the nursery door swung open again, this time revealing Mara.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the armed intruder, but she didn't hesitate. She grabbed a heavy candlestick from the table and swung it with all her might, striking the man across the head. He crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

Mara rushed to the crib, her hands trembling as she scooped Eryon into her arms. "What in the gods' names is happening?" she whispered, her voice thick with fear.

Eryon clung to her, his small fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. He didn't have the words to explain, but the hum still buzzed faintly in his mind, warning him that the danger wasn't over.

The sounds of fighting echoed from the halls—clashing steel, shouted orders, and the unmistakable roar of fire. Mara hesitated, torn between staying in the nursery and fleeing with the child.

Before she could decide, another figure appeared in the doorway. This one wore a dark cloak embroidered with crimson sigils, his presence exuding an aura of menace.

"You're too late," the man said, his voice cold and calculating. "The boy belongs to us now."

Mara backed away, clutching Eryon tightly. "Stay back!" she shouted, though her voice wavered.

The man raised a hand, the hum around him pulsing with dark energy. Shadows coalesced at his fingertips, forming into jagged shards of black ice. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them hurtling toward Mara.

Eryon reacted instinctively. The hum surged within him, and he reached out to the threads of air and water. A shimmering barrier of frost formed in front of Mara, the shards of black ice shattering harmlessly against it.

The man's eyes narrowed. "Impressive," he said, turning his attention fully to Eryon. "But untrained power is no match for experience."

He raised both hands, and the hum around him darkened, the threads twisting into a vortex of shadow and fire.

Eryon's mind raced. He was too weak to maintain the barrier, and Mara wouldn't stand a chance against the man's next attack. But then he felt it—a faint, shimmering current within the hum, the same strange energy he had touched once before.

It was unpredictable and alien, but it was his only chance.

He reached out to it, weaving his intent into its flow. The air around him shimmered, bending and warping as though reality itself was shifting. The man hesitated, his attack faltering as the energy enveloped Eryon.

In a flash of light, Eryon and Mara disappeared.

When Eryon opened his eyes, they were outside the manor, standing in the shadow of the forest that bordered the estate. Mara staggered, clutching him tightly as she tried to catch her breath.

"What… what just happened?" she stammered, looking around in confusion.

Eryon didn't have an answer. He was just as stunned as she was. The energy he had tapped into was unlike anything he had ever felt—a raw, chaotic force that seemed to defy the rules of the hum.

But there was no time to dwell on it. The manor was still under attack, and whoever was after him wouldn't stop until they found him.

Mara's grip on him tightened, her expression hardening. "We have to go," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "We'll find somewhere safe."

Eryon rested his head against her shoulder, his mind already racing with questions. Who were the intruders? What did they want with him? And most importantly, what was the strange energy he had just used?

The hum thrummed softly in the back of his mind, a constant reminder of the power he had yet to fully understand.

For now, survival was all that mattered. But Eryon knew that this was only the beginning.