A Quiet Beginning

The cries of a newborn filled the small, humble house. A mother, sweat beading on her forehead, gently held her son in her arms as she whispered soft words of comfort. The baby's cries began to quiet as his mother rocked him tenderly, the first signs of life after a long and painful journey.

"Welcome to the world, Nerion," she murmured, her voice filled with love.

Nerion. A name given to a boy born into a world full of power and mystery.

Eight years later, Nerion stood beside his younger brother, Kaelen, watching the other children in their village. The small group of kids were playing in the yard, their powers flickering in the air like sparks. One child, with fire dancing in their palms, waved them excitedly. Another conjured wind to lift them into the air, soaring high above the ground. But Nerion stood there, with no abilities of his own. Not a single spark, not a gust of wind, just a boy who was... normal.

His younger brother, Kaelen, who was a full year younger, was different. In just a short time, Kaelen had shown remarkable strength and speed, abilities that many believed were impossible for someone his age. There was something else, too—a deeper presence, something darker that swirled around him whenever his emotions spiked. Kaelen didn't show it often, but when he did, the air around him became heavy, charged with an energy that even the other children seemed to notice.

Kaelen possessed an extraordinary power—an innate dark magic that made him stand out even more. It wasn't the kind of magic the villagers were used to seeing. It was raw, unpredictable, and not fully understood. But that didn't stop them from whispering about it in awe. His dark power, his strength—it made Kaelen a prodigy in the eyes of many.

People marveled at Kaelen, calling him a prodigy. But Nerion felt the sting of their admiration. Even their parents, who loved them both, seemed to always show a bit more pride in Kaelen's abilities. Nerion, despite the love they gave him, couldn't help but feel like a shadow in Kaelen's light.

One evening, the village elder gathered the children around the fire. The sky was painted with the soft colors of dusk, and the flickering flames cast long shadows over the group. The elder began to speak in a voice that carried the weight of a thousand untold stories.

"There's a legend," the elder began, his eyes distant. "Long ago, in an unknown time, there was a man who sought to gain all power for himself. He opened the Doors of Fate, a barrier that separated humans from the supernatural. And in doing so, he brought chaos into the world. The supernatural creatures—gouls, vampires, werewolves, and more—came flooding into the world, and humanity was changed. The world became unstable, and those born into it received powers that could shape reality."

Nerion listened intently, but there was always a nagging feeling in his heart. His parents had never spoken of the legend with much seriousness. It was just a story, a tale passed down from generation to generation. No one knew when the Doors had been opened, or if it was even real. Yet, it was something people still whispered about.

As the elder spoke, Nerion couldn't help but glance at Kaelen. His brother's eyes gleamed with a fierce energy, his dark power stirring in the air around him. Kaelen, even at such a young age, seemed destined for greatness. Nerion felt the weight of that comparison.

At home, it was the same. Kaelen's abilities were always a point of conversation, with their parents praising him for his strength and potential. They would smile warmly at him, their faces full of admiration. Nerion, on the other hand, felt like he was invisible—his family's love for him never in question, but always overshadowed by Kaelen's prodigious abilities.

One day, when Nerion was just nine, an orc attacked the village. It was a terrifying sight—a massive, hulking beast that seemed invincible. But Kaelen, fearless and determined, charged into the fray. With his dark power, Kaelen took down the orc with astonishing speed and strength. The villagers cheered for him, and Nerion watched from the sidelines, unable to help. He was just... normal.

Back at home, Nerion's parents praised Kaelen endlessly. Nerion tried to smile, to feel happy for his brother, but deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was falling further and further into the background. They loved him, of course. But in the eyes of everyone, Kaelen was something extraordinary. Nerion? He was just there.

The village treated Nerion kindly, but he never felt like he belonged. The other children played with Kaelen, marveled at his strength, and admired his power. Nerion was often left to the sidelines, quietly helping with chores or watching as his brother received all the attention.

But Nerion didn't hate Kaelen. He didn't resent him. He simply wanted to understand why things were the way they were. Why his brother was so special, and he was... not.

And as the days passed, Nerion began to realize something: the world was full of power, full of wonders. But no matter how hard he tried, he felt like he would never truly fit into it. He wasn't like the others, and that feeling—of being just another face in the crowd—began to take root deep within him.