Chapter 17: The Halloween Incident

The Great Hall looked magnificent for the Halloween feast. Thousands of live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins grinned with flickering candlelight. The enchanted ceiling displayed a stormy night sky, complete with occasional flashes of lightning that reminded Kael of home.

As he took his seat at the Ravenclaw table, Kael couldn't help but notice the palpable excitement in the air. His fellow students chatted animatedly as platters of delicious food materialized before them. The table groaned under the weight of cauldron-shaped cakes, pumpkin pasties, and various sweets crafted especially for the occasion.

"I've heard the Halloween feast is quite the spectacle," said Penelope Clearwater, sliding onto the bench across from him. "Though I imagine it's nothing compared to what you're used to at home, Stormbane."

Kael flashed her his trademark charming smile. "My family does have a certain flair for the dramatic, but Hogwarts has its own unique magic."

He glanced around the Great Hall, taking in the festive atmosphere. His gaze paused briefly on the Gryffindor table, where he spotted the Weasley twins engaged in what appeared to be an impromptu food-stacking competition. Harry Potter sat nearby, laughing at their antics alongside several other first-years. But there was someone missing.

Kael frowned slightly. Hermione Granger was nowhere to be seen.

He turned to a nearby second-year. "Has anyone seen Hermione today?"

The girl shrugged, more interested in the treacle tart appearing on her plate. Kael's brow furrowed as he scanned the Gryffindor table once more. He'd spoken with Hermione just yesterday in the library, where they'd engaged in a spirited debate about the ethical implications of memory charms. Their intellectual sparring had become a highlight of his weeks at Hogwarts.

Kael turned his attention to the food before him, but found his thoughts drifting back to Hermione's absence. Something felt off. He caught snippets of conversation from Parvati Patil at a nearby table, mentioning that Hermione had been crying in the girls' bathroom all afternoon.

A twinge of concern flickered through him. While he maintained a careful balance of distance and friendship with most students—part of the complicated legacy of being a Stormbane—he found himself genuinely concerned for the brilliant Gryffindor. He was about to excuse himself from the table when the massive doors to the Great Hall burst open.

Professor Quirrell sprinted into the hall, his turban askew and terror etched across his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

The Great Hall erupted into chaos. Dumbledore's purple firecrackers exploding from his wand finally silenced the room.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

As Percy Weasley began shouting orders and Penelope started organizing the Ravenclaws, Kael remained seated, his mind racing. A troll shouldn't have been able to enter Hogwarts without assistance. The castle's defenses were too strong, the magic too ancient. Someone had let it in—but that wasn't his immediate concern.

Hermione doesn't know about the troll.

He stood up suddenly, drawing curious glances from his housemates.

"Coming, Stormbane?" asked Penelope, her prefect badge gleaming.

"I forgot something in the library," Kael replied smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll catch up."

Before she could protest, he slipped away from the group, moving with practiced grace. Once out of sight, he ducked into an empty classroom and pulled out his wand—12 inches of thunderwood with a phoenix feather core. The wand hummed with energy, resonating with his intent.

Kael closed his eyes, focusing on his magical sensitivity—a gift from his System. He extended his awareness outward, feeling the ambient magic of the castle. The protective enchantments, the moving staircases, the ghosts floating through walls—all of it created a complex tapestry of magical signatures. And there—a discordant note in the symphony—the crude, primal magic of a mountain troll.

It wasn't in the dungeons anymore. It was moving up, following the scent of humans.

Moving toward the girls' bathroom.

Kael moved swiftly through the corridors, his steps silent despite his hurry. The castle seemed to shift subtly around him, staircases aligning to provide the most direct route. Whether this was coincidence or a manifestation of Hogwarts responding to urgent need, Kael couldn't be sure.

As he approached the first-floor corridor, a putrid stench assaulted his senses—like old socks and the kind of public toilet no one cleans. Kael wrinkled his nose but pressed on. The sound of heavy footfalls and the dragging of something large and heavy confirmed his suspicions.

He paused at the corner, peering carefully around it. The troll—twelve feet tall with granite-gray skin and a body like a boulder with a small, coconut-shaped head—was shambling toward the girls' bathroom. It dragged a massive wooden club behind it, leaving gouges in the stone floor.

Kael assessed the situation with practiced calm. He could easily dispatch the troll himself—the spells from his grimoire would make short work of the creature. But using such advanced magic would draw unwanted attention from both students and faculty. He needed to maintain his cover as merely a brilliant first-year, not reveal the full extent of his capabilities.

The troll lumbered into the bathroom, and seconds later, a high-pitched, terrified scream echoed through the corridor.

Hermione.

Kael sprinted forward, only to pause as he saw two other figures rushing from the opposite direction—Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. They had evidently realized Hermione's absence as well. Kael quickly stepped back into the shadows of an alcove, observing. This was Harry's challenge to face; Dumbledore had made that clear during their meeting last month. Kael had agreed to intervene only in life-threatening situations.

He watched as Harry and Ron entered the bathroom, heard the crash of stalls being smashed, and the shouts of confusion. Kael moved closer to the entrance, his wand ready, monitoring the situation through sound and his magical sensitivity.

The chaos inside the bathroom intensified. He heard Ron yell, "Confuse it!" followed by the clatter of metal pipes being thrown. Hermione's terrified whimpers carried through the door, and Kael's grip tightened on his wand.

"Oy, pea-brain!" came Ron's voice, followed by more crashes.

Then Harry's voice shouted something indistinct, and there was the sound of running footsteps. A scream from Hermione suggested the situation was deteriorating.

Kael moved to the doorway just in time to see Harry perform an act of either incredible bravery or profound foolishness—leaping onto the troll's back and jamming his wand up its nose. The troll howled in pain, twisting and flailing with Harry clinging desperately to its neck.

The troll's club rose high, aiming to strike Harry. Hermione had collapsed against the wall in terror, while Ron stood frozen, his wand raised but unused. Time seemed to slow as Kael's temporal perception—another System gift—kicked in.

This was the moment. A life-threatening situation.

Kael stepped partially into view, staying mostly in the shadows of the doorway. With practiced precision, he aimed his wand and whispered, "Arcane Pulsus." But in the heat of the moment, his concern for the trio mixed with adrenaline, causing a spike in his magical energy. The incantation that escaped his lips wasn't what he intended.

"Glacius Cataclysm!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Kael knew he'd made a terrible mistake. A spell from the Grimoire of Forbidden Storms—one his father had only recently shown him, one he hadn't yet mastered. Horror flashed across his face as raw power surged through his wand.

The temperature in the room plummeted instantly. From the tip of his wand, a blinding flash of arctic blue light erupted—not the subtle force he had intended, but a devastating wave of primordial cold. Frost crystallized across the bathroom floor in fractal patterns, racing outward from where he stood. The mirrors cracked from the sudden temperature change, shattering into glittering shards that hung suspended in the rapidly freezing air.

The troll's club, mid-swing, was encased in ice so quickly that its momentum carried it into the wall, where it shattered like glass. The creature itself let out a confused roar that was cut short as its legs were frozen to the floor, immobilizing it instantly. Its skin turned blue-gray as the wave of freezing magic washed over it.

Harry, still on the troll's back, was thrown clear as the creature became a grotesque ice sculpture. Ron and Hermione were spared the worst of the blast as the wave of cold seemed to flow around them rather than through them—Kael's subconscious desire to protect, not harm, the students.

The bathroom had transformed into a winter scene. Icicles hung from the ceiling, the sinks were frozen solid with water droplets suspended mid-drip, and a thin layer of snow dusted every surface. The freezing effect continued beyond the bathroom, frost spreading down the corridor in both directions, creating a path of winter through the castle.

Kael fell to his knees, his body suddenly wracked with pain. The spell had taken far more from him than he was prepared to give. His breath came out in visible puffs, and his skin grew pale with an unnatural blue tinge. The lightning-shaped birthmarks on his arms and face gleamed with an eerie phosphorescence, then turned frost-white.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron's voice broke the stunned silence, his breath fogging in the frozen air.

Hermione's gaze moved from the frozen troll to the doorway where Kael knelt. "Kael? KAEL!"

He tried to respond, but his teeth chattered too violently to form words. The magical backlash was setting in quickly. His system flashed warnings before his eyes, alerting him to dangerous levels of magical depletion and dropping body temperature.

The sound of running footsteps echoed through the frozen corridor. Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Quirrell appeared at the door, their expressions morphing from anger to shock as they took in the winter wonderland that had once been a bathroom.

"Good heavens," McGonagall whispered, her breath materializing in the frigid air.

Snape's gaze darted immediately to Kael, his eyes narrowing with comprehension. "Stormbane," he said sharply, striding forward. "What have you done?"

Quirrell merely gaped at the frozen troll, then at the frost patterns extending down the hallway in both directions.

"P-professor," Kael managed through chattering teeth. "I d-didn't mean—"

"He saved us!" Hermione interrupted, rushing to Kael's side. "The troll was about to kill Harry!"

Snape knelt beside Kael, examining his frost-white birthmarks with a grimace. He removed his cloak and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders. "Magical exhaustion and severe arcane cold. We need to get him to the Hospital Wing immediately."

McGonagall waved her wand, conjuring a stretcher. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger—explain yourselves. Why weren't you at the feast?"

As Snape carefully levitated Kael onto the stretcher, Hermione stepped forward. "It's my fault, Professor McGonagall."

Kael tried to protest, to explain that he was the one who had caused this catastrophe, but his voice failed him. The cold was spreading through his body, numbing his limbs and clouding his thoughts. His last coherent glimpse was of Hermione's worried face and Snape's calculating gaze before darkness claimed him.

Consciousness returned to Kael slowly, like trying to swim through molasses. The first thing he registered was warmth—blessed, wonderful warmth. His body felt heavy, weighed down by multiple blankets. He was no longer in the frozen bathroom, but in a bed with crisp sheets.

The Hospital Wing, his mind supplied sluggishly.

"Ah, you're awake." Madam Pomfrey's voice came from somewhere to his right. "Quite the stunt you pulled, Mr. Stormbane."

Kael tried to respond, but his throat was raw and his voice emerged as a croak. The matron helped him take a sip of water from a glass.

"How... long?" he managed.

"Nearly two days," she replied, checking his temperature with a wave of her wand. "Magical exhaustion combined with exposure to elemental cold—not a combination I see often, even at Hogwarts. The Headmaster had to call in a specialist from St. Mungo's to help with your treatment."

Kael winced. Not the low profile he'd been trying to maintain.

"Your parents were notified," she continued, seemingly reading his mind. "Your father sent detailed instructions for your care, along with several potions I've never seen before. Quite effective, though. Without them, you might have been here for a week."

The mention of his father made Kael grimace. Azrael Stormbane would not be pleased that his son had attempted—and botched—such an advanced spell from their family grimoire.

The doors to the Hospital Wing opened, and Albus Dumbledore strode in, his purple robes swishing around his ankles.

"Ah, our young frost-mage awakes," the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling but with a hint of severity beneath the genial facade. "Madam Pomfrey, might I have a moment with Mr. Stormbane?"

The matron huffed but nodded, retreating to her office. Dumbledore conjured a squashy armchair beside Kael's bed and settled into it.

"Glacius Cataclysm," Dumbledore said quietly. "A spell from the Grimoire of Forbidden Storms. Not typically in the repertoire of first-year students."

Kael met the Headmaster's gaze steadily. "It was an accident. I meant to cast Arcane Pulsus."

"So Professor Snape deduced," Dumbledore nodded. "A spell of your own creation, I believe? Designed to deliver a precise impact with minimal visible effect?"

"Yes," Kael admitted. "But I... I was worried about Hermione and the others. My focus slipped."

"Indeed." Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The spell you cast is usually beyond the capabilities of adult wizards, let alone a first-year. That you survived casting it is remarkable. That you managed to control it enough to spare Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger is... most illuminating."

Kael shifted uncomfortably under the Headmaster's penetrating gaze. "Is everyone alright?"

"Oh, quite unharmed," Dumbledore assured him. "The troll, however, took some time to thaw. Professor Flitwick was quite impressed with the crystalline structure of the ice. He's written to your father asking about the theoretical principles behind the spell."

Kael groaned. "My father is going to kill me."

A small smile crossed Dumbledore's face. "On the contrary, I believe he is rather proud. Concerned, certainly, but proud. Your mother, however, sent a Howler that I took the liberty of redirecting to my office. I thought you might appreciate recovering without that particular... experience."

"Thank you," Kael said sincerely. Selena Stormbane's temper was legendary.

"You should know," Dumbledore continued, "that portions of the first and second floors remained frozen for nearly twenty-four hours. Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick eventually managed to reverse the effects, though several suits of armor are still complaining of joint stiffness."

Despite himself, Kael felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry about that."

"A happy accident, perhaps," Dumbledore mused. "The house-elves rather enjoyed the winter wonderland. I believe they've asked if you might consider a repeat performance for the Christmas feast."

Kael laughed, then winced as his ribs protested. "I think I'll stick to more controlled magic for now."

Based on your documents, I'll continue the "Halloween Incident" chapter from where it left off. The last part showed Kael being taken to the Hospital Wing after accidentally casting the powerful Glacius Cataclysm spell:

The doors to the Hospital Wing opened, and Albus Dumbledore strode in, his purple robes swishing around his ankles.

"Ah, our young frost-mage awakes," the Headmaster said, his eyes twinkling but with a hint of severity beneath the genial facade. "Madam Pomfrey, might I have a moment with Mr. Stormbane?"

The matron huffed but nodded, retreating to her office. Dumbledore conjured a squashy armchair beside Kael's bed and settled into it.

"Glacius Cataclysm," Dumbledore said quietly. "A spell from the Grimoire of Forbidden Storms. Not typically in the repertoire of first-year students."

Kael met the Headmaster's gaze steadily. "It was an accident. I meant to cast Arcane Pulsus."

"So Professor Snape deduced," Dumbledore nodded. "A spell of your own creation, I believe? Designed to deliver a precise impact with minimal visible effect?"

"Yes," Kael admitted. "But I... I was worried about Hermione and the others. My focus slipped."

"Indeed." Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The spell you cast is usually beyond the capabilities of adult wizards, let alone a first-year. That you survived casting it is remarkable. That you managed to control it enough to spare Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger is... most illuminating."

Kael shifted uncomfortably under the Headmaster's penetrating gaze. "Is everyone alright?"

"Oh, quite unharmed," Dumbledore assured him. "The troll, however, took some time to thaw. Professor Flitwick was quite impressed with the crystalline structure of the ice. He's written to your father asking about the theoretical principles behind the spell."

Kael groaned. "My father is going to kill me."

A small smile crossed Dumbledore's face. "On the contrary, I believe he is rather proud. Concerned, certainly, but proud. Your mother, however, sent a Howler that I took the liberty of redirecting to my office. I thought you might appreciate recovering without that particular... experience."

"Thank you," Kael said sincerely. Selena Stormbane's temper was legendary.

"You should know," Dumbledore continued, "that portions of the first and second floors remained frozen for nearly twenty-four hours. Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick eventually managed to reverse the effects, though several suits of armor are still complaining of joint stiffness."

Despite himself, Kael felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Sorry about that."

"A happy accident, perhaps," Dumbledore mused. "The house-elves rather enjoyed the winter wonderland. I believe they've asked if you might consider a repeat performance for the Christmas feast."Kael laughed, then winced as his ribs protested. "I think I'll stick to more controlled magic for now."

"A wise decision." Dumbledore's expression grew more serious. "We agreed you would intervene only in life-threatening situations, did we not?"

"Yes, sir," Kael replied. "I was following Hermione when I sensed the troll moving toward the girls' bathroom. I saw Harry and Ron enter to help her, and I was just going to observe unless absolutely necessary." He paused. "But then the troll was about to strike Harry with its club. I had no choice."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "Your assessment was correct. However, the spell you chose—or rather, the spell that chose to emerge—was perhaps more... dramatic than required."

"I know, sir. As I said, I meant to cast Arcane Pulsus—just enough force to divert the club. But my emotions..." Kael trailed off, looking down at his hands. The frost-white marks on his skin had faded back to their normal lightning pattern, but they still tingled uncomfortably.

"Indeed. Our emotions often betray our best intentions, especially when those we care about are in danger." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "You've grown rather fond of Miss Granger, I've noticed."

Kael felt heat rise to his cheeks. "She's brilliant, sir. One of the few who can keep up with me in debate."

"High praise from a Stormbane," Dumbledore chuckled. "And what of Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley?"

"They're... brave," Kael said diplomatically. "Rushing in to face a troll with barely two months of magical training? That takes courage."

"Or foolishness," Dumbledore suggested, though his tone held no criticism. "Sometimes the line between the two is rather thin."

A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the distant sounds of Madam Pomfrey bustling about in her office.

"Professor," Kael said eventually, "how did it get in? The troll, I mean. Hogwarts' protections should have prevented it."

Dumbledore's expression grew somber. "A most astute question, Mr. Stormbane. One that I am actively investigating."

"Someone let it in," Kael pressed. "As a distraction, perhaps?"

The Headmaster studied Kael for a long moment. "Your father mentioned you possessed remarkable intuition. I see he was not exaggerating."

"The third-floor corridor," Kael continued quietly. "The one that's forbidden. That's what they were after, wasn't it?"

Dumbledore stood, smoothing his robes. "I believe you should focus on your recovery, Mr. Stormbane. Magical exhaustion is not to be taken lightly, especially after casting such a powerful spell from your family's grimoire."

Kael recognized the deflection but decided not to push further. "Yes, Professor."

"I have spoken with your professors. You are excused from classes for the remainder of the week. I suggest you use this time to rest and reflect."

"And what about what happened in the bathroom?" Kael asked. "People will have questions."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Ah, yes. A most unusual weather phenomenon, I believe. A freak localized cold front, perhaps caused by a confluence of magical energies in the castle. Most mysterious."

Kael couldn't help but smile. "And my classmates? Hermione, Harry, and Ron?"

"Miss Granger has been quite insistent on visiting you once you've awakened. As for Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, they believe they were saved by an unexpected magical surge of the castle's own protective enchantments. A not entirely inaccurate assessment, considering your family's long history with this school."

The Headmaster moved toward the door, then paused. "Oh, and Mr. Stormbane? I believe the Weasley twins have been attempting to recreate what they're calling 'The Great Freeze' on a smaller scale. Perhaps a word of caution would not go amiss when you're feeling better."

With that, Dumbledore departed, leaving Kael alone with his thoughts. He sank back into the pillows, exhaling slowly. His father had warned him about the Glacius Cataclysm—a spell created by his ancestor Vaughn Gerald Stormbane, the Crimson Tempest. It was meant to be studied, not cast, at least not until Kael was older and his magical core had fully developed.

The spell had taken a toll on him. Even now, he could feel the lingering chill deep in his bones, a cold that no blanket could fully dispel. But despite the physical discomfort, Kael felt a private thrill at having successfully—if accidentally—cast such a powerful family spell. His System had even registered the casting, adding detailed notes on the magical theory behind it to his mental library.

His musings were interrupted by the Hospital Wing doors creaking open. Hermione Granger slipped inside, her bushy hair even more wild than usual, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. When she saw that he was awake, her face lit up with relief.

"Kael! Thank goodness you're alright." She hurried to his bedside, clutching a stack of books. "I brought your assignments. And some additional reading I thought you might find interesting."

Kael smiled. Trust Hermione to think of schoolwork first. "And here I was hoping for chocolate frogs."

She flushed slightly. "Oh! Well, I didn't know if—I mean, I could go get some if you'd like—"

"I'm joking, Hermione," Kael said gently, watching as she settled herself in the chair Dumbledore had vacated. "Thank you for bringing my assignments."

Hermione bit her lip, setting the books on his bedside table. "What happened in that bathroom, Kael? One moment the troll was about to hit Harry, and the next... everything just froze. Literally froze." She lowered her voice. "Dumbledore says it was some sort of magical anomaly, but I saw you in the doorway just before it happened."

Kael considered his options. Hermione was too observant, too intelligent to be easily fooled. But he couldn't reveal the full extent of his abilities—not yet, not to anyone.

"I was looking for you," he said, which was true enough. "I heard you were upset and missing from the feast. When Professor Quirrell announced the troll, I realized you didn't know."

Her expression softened. "You came looking for me?"

"Of course," Kael replied simply. "You're my friend."

A light blush colored her cheeks. "But what about the ice? Was that... was that you?"

Kael sighed. "I tried to help," he admitted. "The spell I cast was... stronger than I intended. My family has an affinity for elemental magic, particularly storms. Sometimes it can be unpredictable."

"It was amazing," Hermione whispered, her eyes wide with something between awe and academic interest. "I've never seen anything like it. Even Professor McGonagall couldn't reverse it completely."

Before Kael could respond, the doors burst open again, and Fred and George Weasley bounded in, identical grins on their freckled faces.

"There's our ice prince!" Fred exclaimed.

"The frost king himself!" George added, as they approached his bed.

Kael groaned. "Not you two as well."

"Are you kidding?" Fred said, perching on the edge of Kael's bed. "The entire school's talking about it!"

"'The Great Freeze,' they're calling it," George informed him, pulling up another chair. "Filch is beside himself—says it'll take weeks to get all the water damage repaired."

"And the suits of armor on the first floor are still creaking," Fred added with glee. "One of them asked Peeves for oil this morning!"

Despite himself, Kael laughed. Trust the Weasley twins to see the humorous side of his magical mishap.

"So," George leaned forward conspiratorially, "any chance you could teach us that little trick? For purely academic purposes, of course."

"Absolutely not," Hermione interjected before Kael could respond. "He's in the Hospital Wing because of that spell! Besides, it's clearly advanced magic, well beyond the Hogwarts curriculum."

"Exactly why we want to learn it," Fred replied with a wink. "Imagine the possibilities!"

Kael shook his head, suppressing a smile. "Sorry to disappoint, but that's family magic. Not something I can teach."

The twins looked momentarily crestfallen before brightening again.

"Fair enough," George said. "But surely you could help us with something similar on a smaller scale?"

"Something that doesn't freeze entire floors," Fred added hastily, noting Hermione's disapproving look.

"Perhaps," Kael conceded, his mind already working through modifications to basic cooling charms that might satisfy their prankster ambitions without causing property damage. "We'll talk when I'm out of here."

Their conversation was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey emerging from her office. "That's quite enough excitement for one day," she declared, eyeing the visitors sternly. "Mr. Stormbane needs rest, not a social gathering."

The twins rose with theatrical sighs.

"We'll be back," Fred promised.

"With sweets," George added.

"And more ideas," they finished in unison.

As they left, Hermione stood too, gathering her bag. "I should go as well. Will you be alright?"

Kael nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion returning. "Thanks for the books. And... for not telling everyone what you saw."

She hesitated, then smiled—a warm, genuine smile that reached her eyes. "That's what friends are for, isn't it?"

After she departed, Kael sank deeper into his pillows. His first two months at Hogwarts had not gone as planned. He had intended to maintain a low profile, to observe Harry Potter from a distance as Dumbledore had requested, to excel in his studies without drawing undue attention.

So much for that plan.

As sleep began to claim him once more, Kael's thoughts drifted to the Grimoire of Forbidden Storms, safely hidden in a secret compartment of his trunk. His father had only recently shown him two of its spells—Glacius Cataclysm being one of them. Not to cast, but to study. To appreciate the power and responsibility of his heritage.

He would need to be more careful, more controlled. But a small, secret part of him thrilled at what he had accomplished today, accidental though it was. His System had already begun analyzing the magical theory behind the spell, incorporating it into his growing understanding of elemental manipulation.

By the time he returned home for summer, he would have mastered it properly, he decided. Under his father's watchful eye, of course.

With that resolution, Kael Stormbane drifted into dreams filled with swirling snow, crackling ice, and the faint, distant rumble of thunder that was his birthright.