The Art of Bending

Thaddeus lay on his stomach, his chubby little hands stretched out before him, gazing intently at the small objects in front of him. He had started practicing his bending skills on smaller, more manageable things, like clay, sticks, and even a few small stones he'd found around the house. The excitement of his new abilities had waned a little with time, but today, a new spark of curiosity flickered in his mind.

He placed a small stone in front of him, eyes narrowed in concentration. His fingers wiggled slightly, and for a moment, he felt the familiar tug of energy running through him—like an invisible thread connecting him to the world around him. Slowly, he focused.

"Alright," Thaddeus thought to himself, his baby mind still struggling to form full sentences. "Focus...bend."

At first, nothing happened. Thaddeus frowned, trying to force the stone into the shape he desired. It didn't move. With a grunt of frustration, he threw his little hands forward—hoping that might somehow help.

The stone wobbled slightly, then—crack—it split into two pieces.

Thaddeus blinked, his face scrunching in confusion. "What...?" He wasn't sure if he was happy or disappointed. At least it moved, but that wasn't exactly what he wanted.

The little stone pieces, now two halves, rolled away from him.

But something else caught his eye. A stick he had been trying to bend earlier, now shaped strangely into a spiral, lay on the floor beside him.

He reached out for it, his tiny fingers hovering above the makeshift spiral. The moment his fingers brushed the wood, the stick snapped back into its original form and then bent once more. This time, it coiled neatly in a perfect loop before curling even tighter.

Thaddeus let out a soft giggle, realizing the power he had just discovered: softening materials before bending them. It wasn't a full mastery of the craft, but it was progress.

"Not bad for a baby," Thaddeus mused, even though he couldn't speak yet. He wiggled in delight and gave a little baby giggle as he watched the stick continue its smooth dance.

---

Later that afternoon, Thaddeus was lying in his crib, staring at the ceiling. His mother, Flora, was humming softly as she worked nearby. She glanced up from her chores occasionally, taking a mental note of her son's unusually keen observations.

"Thaddeus," Flora said as she paused and looked at him. "You're always so focused, aren't you?"

Thaddeus blinked and looked at her, his eyes wide. What was she talking about?

"You seem... smarter than most babies," she remarked, half-pondering to herself. "It's like you understand things already, even though you can't talk yet."

Her voice was filled with wonder, but there was no real suspicion in her words. After all, what kind of parent wouldn't want their child to be the smartest baby around? So, she brushed it off as a passing curiosity.

"Maybe I'm just lucky," she muttered, smiling as she went back to her tasks. She had always considered herself a little "lucky" in life, after all.

---

Later that evening, Alexander, Thaddeus' father, entered the room to see his son crawling around. Thaddeus' parents often remarked on how active their baby was—how even at six months old, he had already mastered sitting up and had started crawling with surprising speed.

"Thaddeus, my boy," Alexander smiled as he knelt down beside the crib. "Already crawling around like you've been doing it for years."

Thaddeus grinned back, showing a mix of baby teeth. His hands were twitching, a subtle hint that he had more on his mind than his parents could understand. Alexander, noticing the mischievous glint in his son's eyes, raised an eyebrow.

"Alright, let's see what you can do."

With a grin, Alexander placed a toy soldier in front of Thaddeus. The soldier was made of a soft, bendable material, not quite wood but sturdy enough. Alexander watched expectantly.

Thaddeus' fingers twitched again, and his mind focused.

Just like before, he softened the soldier's material with his newfound ability. His little hand grasped it tightly, and before his father could say a word, the toy soldier was... stretched into a weird, misshapen blob.

Thaddeus' face fell, his excitement turning into mild disappointment. What had he just done? That was not at all what he had intended!

Alexander, however, simply stared for a moment before breaking into laughter.

"Well," he chuckled. "I guess that's a new kind of art."

Thaddeus blinked, surprised by the reaction. He had expected a reprimand or at least a raised eyebrow, but instead, his father laughed it off.

Flora walked over, seeing the now misshapen soldier. She smiled gently, rubbing her chin. "Oh, that's... interesting. Could be a future sculptor in the making."

Thaddeus gave his mother a confused look. She didn't seem concerned. For all his bizarre actions, she simply assumed that it was a part of him growing up.

"Guess I'll have to get you some more toys," Alexander grinned, shaking his head.

---

The next few days went by, and Thaddeus practiced bending on a variety of objects. As his parents continued to notice his unusual behavior, they chalked it up to being a "special child" or just sheer coincidence. But inside, Thaddeus was figuring things out, slowly starting to learn how his bending worked.

He focused on softening objects, learning how to manipulate their forms, and then began experimenting with bending things in ways that didn't just involve reshaping them, but changing them altogether. Clay became his go-to material—perfect for testing out his skills. He'd bend it into swords, shields, and tiny figurines, marveling at how the material responded to his will.

One afternoon, as his mother prepared dinner, Thaddeus was on the floor, playing with the last bit of clay from his earlier experiments. He focused on a small, circular chunk of clay in front of him and tried to reshape it. But instead of the usual small object, Thaddeus felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to increase its size.

The clay grew rapidly, expanding beyond his control. Thaddeus gasped as the ball of clay turned into a large, bumpy shape that took over the entire living room floor.

It was a disaster.

Flora, who had been working nearby, heard the commotion and rushed to the scene, only to find the clay now almost the size of her. Her eyes widened, and she looked at her son, who was innocently sitting amidst the chaos, still holding the remnants of the giant clay blob.

"What... what is this?" Flora gasped, her face pale with confusion. She glanced at Alexander, who had also appeared in the doorway, his expression blank.

"It wasn't me!" Thaddeus wanted to say, but all that came out was a tiny, baby gurgle.

Flora blinked and turned to her husband. "I... I think we need to start getting him real toys before he builds a whole city."

Alexander laughed and ruffled his son's hair. "Looks like we have a little artist in the making "

As they laughed, Thaddeus could only grin to himself, thinking, Well, that could've gone better.

---

In the quiet aftermath of the laughter, a soft voice echoed in Thaddeus' mind.

"Bending Skill has improved."

Thaddeus paused, blinking in surprise. Improved? He had barely tried to control the clay, and yet somehow, his abilities were getting stronger.

A new sense of excitement filled his baby heart.

This is just the beginning, he thought with a grin. He had a long way to go, but with every new bend, the world seemed more and more malleable.

And perhaps—just perhaps—this little accident would be the stepping stone for my future.