Where Power Begins

Michael barely kept himself upright on the stone floor. He glared up at Darius, chest heaving and vision blurred with rage.

Darius towered over him in the torchlight, arms crossed and expression unreadable.

"Not even close," Darius said quietly.

Michael spat on the ground between them.

"Is that your verdict?" he growled, wiping blood from his lip.

"You enjoying this? Watching me crawl back up?

I know I'm weak. I don't need you to remind me. You think I'm giving up? I'm just getting started, old man."

"Strength is earned, not given," Darius replied evenly.

Michael glared. "Sure. And I guess I've earned every bruised rib right here, huh?"

He jabbed a finger at his side. "Or did I forget my place? What, I won't belong in your world until I bleed more?"

Darius's jaw clenched. Silence stretched tight.

Finally he answered in a low, rumbling voice:

"son, danger follows reckless ambition. Power without discipline is a sword in a child's hand. You'll only invite ruin if you rush without learning."

Michael snorted. "Maybe ruin is exactly what I'm looking for," he snapped back.

"I'm tired of being afraid. Tired of being nothing to you. You think I'm supposed to give up and become a doormat? Not happening."

Darius stepped closer, torchlight flickering across his face.

"And I'm tired of watching you risk your life without understanding why," he said.

"You have to prove yourself… and I won't let you be destroyed."

"You think I need my hand held?" Michael shot back.

He spat on the ground again.

"No. I've got to make my own path. Save your pity for someone who wants it."

Pip, the small black monkey on Michael's shoulder, let out a startled chitter.

Michael cracked a grin and scratched the monkey's ear.

"At least one of us is listening to reason, huh?"

he muttered. "Side with the smart monkey, I always say."

Darius's face hardened. He gave Michael a final look.

"I taught you everything you know," he said. "If you leave this place, don't come back expecting me to pick up the pieces."

"Don't worry, Dad," Michael retorted under his breath, "I'm not the one broken here."

The words hit Darius like a thrown knife. His jaw twitched, and he turned silently away.

"Michael, be careful," Darius called softly.

Careful. Michael scoffed.

"Careful? Me? I'll manage just fine. Who's been careful this whole time?"

He gave a lazy salute and stormed away without another word, leaving Darius watching his retreating back.

Later under a bruised-purple sky, Michael prowled the crumbling courtyard with Pip at his heels. Distant thunder rolled as rain began to fall. The air smelled of moss and wet earth.

"You know, Pip," Michael said to the monkey, "Dad sure loves scarring you and me. It's like he's proud of every mark on my face."

He jabbed a thumb at his cheek. "Well, not anymore. Time to give him something to chew on."

A fork of lightning split the sky. Michael grinned.

"Let's go find something worth fighting for, not… this."

He gestured at the emptiness around them.

"We're done being sparring partners in someone else's fight."

Pip let out an excited squeal. Michael ruffled the monkey's fur.

"That's right. You and me – we're striking out on our own."

They slipped through shadowed halls and forgotten passages. Michael's fingertips danced along the old carvings as he whispered to the stone, daring it:

"If he won't show me the way, I'll carve my own damn path. We'll find our own secrets, little jackass."

Finally, behind the old library, Michael pressed on a loose brick. The wall shifted with a groaning rumble, revealing a spiral staircase.

"Of course there's a secret stairway," Michael chuckled, stepping back.

"Treasure or trap? Why not both?"

He motioned to Pip. "Ladies first, princess."

Pip chattered eagerly and darted down into darkness. Michael followed cautiously.

The staircase plunged deep under the castle. Torches sprang to life as they descended, casting a sickly blue-green glow on rune-covered walls.

The air tasted of dust and old magic. Michael's pulse hammered.

At the bottom, a massive circular door barred their way. Symbols twisted across its surface, converging on a single keyhole glowing violet.

Michael's heart thumped.

"So this is it," he murmured. "Some ancient lock guarding something juicy. Dad's old toy box, huh?"

He pressed both palms to the runes. They pulsed under his touch.

"Speak of the devil," Michael muttered into the silence. "I was just sayin' how he hid all the fun stuff."

Pip climbed onto Michael's shoulder, sniffing the air. Before Michael could react, Pip jabbed a tiny claw into the glowing keyhole.

"Wait...Pip..." Michael screamed.

Snap! The stone door shuddered and crashed open. Dust rained down from the ceiling.

Michael stumbled forward into a vast chamber lit by flickering blue braziers. At its center floated the Void Stone – an enormous gem of swirling midnight and violet light.

Michael stared, heart in his throat. "Holy shit," he breathed. "Now that's what I call treasure."

Pip hopped down onto the pedestal edge. Michael reached out a hand to grab the gem.

"Pip, no..."

But Pip's claw tapped the Void Stone.

Instantly, the gem ignited. A shockwave of raw energy exploded outward.

"Fuck! What the hell..." Michael roared.

Lightning lashed from the gem, striking the walls. Flames erupted in the braziers.

"No!" he yelled, throwing his arms to shield Pip. "AAAAH!"

The blast hurled Michael backward. His eyes widened as the world was consumed in white-hot chaos.

IN A STRANGE, NEW PLACE

Michael gasped.

He was lying on something soft, glowing grass beneath him like starlight trapped in blades.

He sat up.

All around him was sky.

Endless, open sky filled with galaxies. Stars danced lazily above, and great floating islands drifted on invisible winds.

He spun.

No walls. No sun. No ground.

A realm untouched by earth.

Then

A voice.

Deep. Calm. Immense.

ORION VAEL: "Hello, child. I am Orion Vael. I am a spirit trapped in this place. My time is over, so I must give my power to someone new."

Michael: "Who are you? Where the fuck am I?"

ORION VAEL: "I am giving my power to you. I give you the Aetherium Core, a source of great energy. I also give you the Starfall Codex. It will teach you how to fight with a sword."

A light flared in Michael's chest. Warm. Gentle. It pulsed like a second heartbeat.

Then knowledge surged through him, techniques, forms, names of sword styles that danced through the air.

He gasped, clutching his chest.

The voice faded.

Silence fell again.