The morning sun had barely brushed the horizon when Aerion awoke. His room, high in the Valerion manor, was bathed in pale gold light, dust motes floating lazily in the air. Outside, the capital of Astrael stretched endlessly—marble streets, spired towers, and banners flapping gently in the wind. It looked peaceful, serene… almost painfully ordinary.
Yet Aerion knew it wasn't.
He had felt it the night before. That presence—the subtle, almost imperceptible brush against his senses. Someone, something, was watching him.
He swung his legs off the bed, bare feet touching the cold polished floor. His small hands clenched. His palm, the one that bore the faint infinity mark, tingled softly.
"Father?" he called, stepping into the hallway.
Lord Caelum emerged from the study, robes hanging gracefully from his tall frame. Despite the warmth of the morning, his eyes were alert, scanning shadows as though the room itself might hold secrets.
"Aerion," Caelum said, voice calm but heavy. "Breakfast is ready. But first… we have something to discuss."
Aerion frowned. "Discuss? What is it?"
Caelum motioned for him to follow, and they walked through the ornate corridors. Servants bowed silently as they passed. Aerion noticed his mother waiting at the dining hall entrance, her expression gentle, yet tinged with worry.
"Good morning, mother," Aerion said, trying to sound cheerful.
Seraphine smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Good morning, my son. Did you sleep well?"
"Better than usual," Aerion replied cautiously. But inside, his mind was spinning. He knew it. He could feel it. Something important was about to happen.
The breakfast table was laden with food fit for nobility: fruits of every color, steaming breads, spiced meats, and rich honeyed drinks. But Aerion barely touched any of it.
"Focus, Aerion," Seraphine said softly, nudging a piece of toast toward him. "You will need your strength today."
Aerion blinked at her. "Strength? For what?"
His father finally spoke, his tone measured and deliberate. "Today, you will begin your first trial of mana."
Aerion froze. The words felt heavier than the palace walls around him.
"Mana?" he echoed.
"Yes," Caelum said. "Every noble child must demonstrate their control over mana—the lifeblood of our realm. But…" He glanced at Seraphine briefly, as if sharing a silent understanding. "…your trial will be different."
Aerion's heartbeat quickened. "Different? How?"
Seraphine's lips pressed into a thin line. "Your aura is… unusual. Stronger than we anticipated. You may find that others struggle to comprehend it."
Aerion's mind raced. "Stronger? Others?"
"You'll see soon enough," Caelum said. "For now, finish your breakfast."
The Valerion training grounds were vast, carved into a hill behind the manor. Marble columns surrounded the open arena, their surfaces etched with glowing runes that pulsed faintly as Aerion approached. Children of other noble families were gathered, some older, some younger, all dressed in ceremonial training robes. Their eyes flicked toward him, curiosity and caution mingled in their gazes.
Aerion felt their stares, but he ignored them. His focus was elsewhere—on the tingling mark that had grown more noticeable since sunrise.
A figure approached: Master Eldric, the family's mage-tutor. His white beard almost touched the floor, robes embroidered with silver sigils. His gaze swept over Aerion, sharp and calculating.
"So, the boy," Eldric murmured. "Finally awake to his true potential." He extended a gnarled hand toward the arena. "Step forward."
Aerion obeyed, feeling both fear and excitement churn within him.
"Today," Eldric announced to the gathered children, "you will each summon a fragment of your mana—a reflection of your inner spirit. Control it. Shape it. Make it your own. Any loss of control… and the consequences may be… instructive."
Aerion's heart pounded. He had glimpsed infinity, survived impossible trials beyond time and space, yet this… this test made him nervous.
Control my mana… my spirit…
He closed his eyes briefly. Focused. The quiet hum of the world around him slowed until only his heartbeat and the faint thrum of infinity remained.
Then he felt it.
A pull, gentle but insistent. A warmth spreading from his chest into his arm. His palm tingled. The faint symbol pulsing beneath his skin flared.
"Begin," Eldric's voice rang.
Aerion lifted his small hand.
At first, nothing happened. Children around him struggled to form tiny spheres of glowing energy—sparkling balls, floating lights, tiny bursts of color. Some laughed, some cried, some trembled.
Aerion's palm felt heavier. The air around him shivered, vibrating softly. Then, a thin thread of pure white light extended from his fingers. It hovered, quivering, growing longer… stretching beyond the arena's boundaries.
The other children gasped. Some stepped back, eyes wide with fear.
Eldric's eyes narrowed, studying Aerion intently. "Interesting…"
Aerion felt the thread of light stretching, almost alive. It moved in patterns he hadn't directed consciously—forming shapes, symbols, arcs of impossible geometry. It wrapped around pillars, arched into the sky, and returned to hover over his palm.
I didn't control this… did I?
A whisper echoed in his mind. Faint. Alien. You are ready.
Aerion swallowed. His chest tightened. Not yet. I don't understand it. I can't let it escape.
But the thread pulsed, responding to something beyond his awareness—something ancient.
Eldric raised a hand, motioning for the other children to stop. "Everyone stand down." His voice was calm, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of awe. "Do you see it? This child… is no ordinary noble. He carries a power far beyond this world."
Aerion's heartbeat accelerated. The energy around him flared, momentarily blinding. The arena shook lightly. A hush fell over the crowd.
From the sidelines, Seraphine and Caelum watched, worry etched into every line of their faces.
"You're alright, my son?" Seraphine whispered under her breath.
Aerion clenched his fists, the light retreating slowly. "I… I'm fine."
Caelum's hand brushed her arm. "This is only the beginning."
Aerion's eyes flicked upward. The clouds above seemed to shift unnaturally, darkening despite the morning sun. A cold wind brushed across the marble, carrying a faint whisper—almost too faint to hear, yet unmistakable.
Watch closely…
Aerion shivered, instinctively drawing in a deep breath. The infinity mark pulsed beneath his skin. The thread of light had left a faint trail in the air, spiraling toward something invisible above.
Eldric stepped forward, voice low but firm. "Aerion… your control is extraordinary, but dangerous. A power this strong attracts attention. Not all of it will be kind."
Aerion looked at his mentor. "Attention? From who?"
Eldric's eyes darkened. "From those who seek to challenge infinity itself."
Aerion's stomach twisted. That whisper from the sky, the pull of his mana, the strange mark… it all pointed to something he couldn't yet understand. Something waiting.
He glanced at his parents. Seraphine's hand hovered near her lips, worry heavy in her gaze. Caelum's jaw was tight, but his stance unwavering.
Aerion felt the tiniest spark of defiance ignite inside him. Then let them come, he thought. I'll be ready.
But deep within, a sliver of fear remained—not for himself, but for those he loved.
The sky above darkened further. The clouds twisted unnaturally, forming patterns no storm could create. A faint ripple crossed the horizon, like reality itself was bending, watching.
Aerion's heart skipped. His hand brushed the mark on his palm.
It's beginning.
And somewhere beyond sight, beyond worlds, infinity shifted. Its gaze had found him again.
The wind carried a voice. No words—just a presence. Heavy. Cold. Watching.
Aerion swallowed. "I feel it… it's not over, is it?"
Eldric's expression was grave. "No, Aerion. This is only the first thread. And the web is far larger than you can imagine."
Aerion's eyes narrowed. The faint pulse of the infinity mark quickened. A chill ran down his spine.
He looked out over the horizon, toward the distant mountains, and whispered under his breath:
"Then I'll be ready… whatever comes."
A shadow flickered on the edge of the sky, unseen by the children, unnoticed by the nobles. A figure, tall, cloaked, and impossibly still, watched Aerion.
And it smiled.