Awakening Frost

In the world of Solaria, everyone was born with a unique power, a gift woven into the very fabric of their being. These powers, or "Essences," as they were called, varied greatly in strength and nature. Some could manipulate fire, while others bent the forces of nature; some held subtler abilities, like the power to heal or influence the minds of others. There was no clear rule for what one's Essence would be, only that every person had one, and it would emerge at some point during their early life, often just before or during the beginning of adulthood. The moment of awakening was a rite of passage. Some received their powers early, embracing their destiny with pride, while others waited, uncertain and anxious.

Essences didn't inherently define who a person would become. Just as in any society, people chose their path. Some used their powers for good, becoming protectors, leaders, and healers. Others, however, fell into darkness, exploiting their abilities for greed, violence, or revenge. The world was divided not by whether one had power but by how one chose to wield it.

For Ethan, his Essence had not yet awakened. At twelve years old, he had started to wonder when his time would come, watching as his friends gained control of their powers. He envied their abilities, the way they used them with confidence, but more than anything, he longed to make his mother proud. Clara, his guiding star, had a powerful gift; she wielded her ice-manipulating Essence with grace and precision. He admired her not just for her power but for the warmth and love she radiated, making their small home feel like a sanctuary.

The bustling city of Arctura thrummed with life beneath a sky painted in hues of twilight. Neon signs flickered, casting colorful reflections on the glass facades of towering buildings. Among the throng of people navigating the evening rush was young Ethan, hand-in-hand with his mother, Clara. Today, their visit to the bank was routine—withdrawals, deposits, and the mundane transactions that kept their lives steady. Yet, as they walked, Ethan's mind was filled with thoughts of his mother's lessons about responsibility and the importance of using one's powers for good.

"Do you think I'll get my powers soon, Mom?" Ethan asked, glancing up at her with wide eyes, filled with hope and curiosity.

Clara smiled down at him, her blue eyes sparkling like the ice she conjured. "I believe you will, Ethan. Everyone has their own time. Just remember, whatever your power is, it's a part of you. Use it wisely."

Ethan nodded, taking comfort in her words. He loved these moments, the simple conversations that grounded him. Clara always seemed to know what to say, her voice a soothing melody that chased away his doubts.

Inside the bank, the atmosphere was calm, punctuated by the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of coins. Ethan clung to his mother's hand, eyes wide with curiosity as he observed the adults handling money and discussing numbers. Clara offered him a reassuring smile, kneeling to his level.

"Remember, sweetheart, always stay close to me," she whispered, her voice warm and comforting. She ruffled his hair playfully, and Ethan felt a surge of love wash over him.

Suddenly, the tranquility shattered as the bank doors burst open with a force that sent a chill through the room. A man strode in, his presence commanding and menacing. His eyes darted around, settling on Clara and Ethan. In his hand, he held a gun—a weapon that shimmered with an unnatural energy, hinting at his own formidable power.

"I'm robbing this bank," he declared, his voice laced with desperation and anger. Panic rippled through the customers and staff, fear etching itself onto every face.

Ethan's heart raced as he felt the tension in the air thicken. "Mom?" he whispered, looking up at Clara, his voice trembling.

The man looked at Ethan's fearful expression, aimed his gun, and shouted, "No one is going anywhere! If you want to live, you'd better get the one in charge. You've got three seconds!"

Clara's protective instincts surged. She knew that her powers could neutralize the threat, but she also understood the danger of revealing her abilities in public.

The sight of the robber pointing the gun directly at Ethan was unbearable. "Stay behind me," she instructed firmly, stepping in front of him, her body tense but resolute.

As the man was about to pull the trigger, without a moment's hesitation, Clara extended her hand, and from the air, a sharp icicle formed, glinting ominously in her palm. "You don't have to do this," she pleaded, her voice steady yet filled with urgency. "You can walk away."

The robber laughed, a harsh sound that cut through the air. "You think I'm afraid of you? I don't care about your tricks!"

With precision born of years of control, she launched the icicle toward the robber. It struck him squarely in the stomach, embedding itself with lethal force. The man staggered, clutching his wound, but the pain ignited his own power. He manipulated the gunpowder within the firearm, sending a volley of explosive energy hurtling toward Clara.

Ethan's heart dropped as he watched the scene unfold, feeling utterly powerless. He wanted to scream, to shout, but his voice caught in his throat. All he could do was stand frozen, fear and adrenaline coursing through him.

The icicle's impact had created a hole in the robber's abdomen, but he was far from defeated. The explosive energy collided with Clara, striking her near the liver. She gasped, her strength waning as she collapsed to the ground, blood erupting uncontrollably from her mouth, splattering across the floor. Horrified gasps echoed through the bank as the onlookers shrank back, their faces twisted in terror. Some were frozen in place, while others desperately tried to hide.

Ethan knelt beside her, cradling her head in his lap. "Mom, please stay with me! I need you!" Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision as he pressed his palm against her icy cheek. "You're going to be okay! You have to be!"

Clara struggled to focus her gaze on him, her voice a faint whisper. "Ethan… my sweet boy… listen to me." Each word was a struggle, each breath a battle. "You… you have to be strong. Promise me… promise me you'll use your power for good."

"I don't have my powers yet! I can't do anything!" he sobbed, desperation clawing at his throat.

"Yes, you do. You have… more strength than you know," Clara breathed, her eyes fluttering. "I love you. Always remember that."

Ethan could feel the coldness seeping into his own body, wrapping around his heart like a vice. "Please, don't leave me!" He tightened his grip, as if he could physically hold onto her life.

In that moment of despair, fear, and anger, something inside Ethan shifted. A strange sensation surged through him, unlike anything he had ever felt before—an energy that felt both foreign and familiar. It was like a worm writhing in his core, awakening something deep within him.

As his mother closed her eyes and her body grew colder, he instinctively reached out to her, feeling her Essence slipping away. Without knowing how, his own body began to change, growing stronger, growing colder. In a surge of icy power, he felt an emptiness consuming him, an anger that burned like frostbite.

Suddenly, he stood, his body alive with energy, the air around him crackling with frost. The robber, still reeling from Clara's attack, was now fixated on Ethan. The fear in the man's eyes shifted to confusion as he realized the boy was no longer defenseless.

Fueled by rage and vengeance, Ethan raised his hand, summoning a sharp, glimmering icicle that formed effortlessly from the air around him. "You took her from me!" he shouted, his voice booming with newfound authority.

With fierce determination, he hurled the icicle at the robber, the icy projectile piercing through the air with deadly speed. It struck the man in the shoulder, causing him to stagger back, but Ethan was relentless. "You'll pay for what you did!"

He conjured another icicle, this one larger, and shot it straight at the robber's chest, the force behind it fueled by his grief and rage. It embedded deep, and as the man crumpled to the ground, Ethan didn't stop. He unleashed a barrage of icicles, each one fueled by the anger that surged within him—four more, each one a meter long, creating new holes in the robber's body. The icy projectiles struck with chilling precision, leaving the man gasping for breath, his body barely clinging to life.

Ethan's heart raced as he stood over the fallen figure, his hands trembling with adrenaline and sorrow. "You're nothing," he spat, rage boiling inside him. "You hurt my mother!"

The robber's eyes widened, and for a fleeting moment, Ethan saw fear and desperation reflected in them. But he felt no pity. Instead, he turned away, sinking to his knees beside his mother's lifeless form.

The city outside continued its indifferent march, unaware of the tragedy that had unfolded within its walls. Ethan held his mother tightly, the coldness of her body seeping into his own, mingling with the chill of his tears. the icy power surging within him still crackling with energy, a chilling promise of vengeance. As the shadows of his grief deepened, he whispered to the empty air, "I won't let your sacrifice be in vain" igniting the first flicker of his true Essence—a harbinger of the darkness to come.