THE BOY WHO AWAKENED NOTHING

Somewhere beneath the city, something opened its eyes.

The first time Kael Veyron heard his name whispered by a dead man, he was standing in front of three thousand people.

Unfortunately, the dead man was nowhere to be seen.

And Kael had bigger problems.

“Next!”

The examiner’s voice echoed throughout the Awakening Hall.

Kael stood at the back of the queue, watching another young man place his palm against the enormous crystal embedded in the centre of the stage.

The crystal flashed gold.

A series of symbols appeared above it.

ABILITY AWAKENED: SOLAR IGNITION.

CLASSIFICATION: CLASS FOUR.

The crowd erupted.

“Class Four? At eighteen?”

“That boy’s going to the Royal Academy!”

“His family must be celebrating already.”

The young man on the stage could barely contain his smile.

Kael looked away.

He had heard enough celebrations for one morning.

For the past six months, his classmates had discussed nothing except their upcoming awakenings. Some had hired private instructors. Others had purchased expensive supplements believed to improve their chances of awakening powerful abilities.

Kael had done neither.

His family couldn’t afford it.

Besides, his mother had always told him that a person’s worth wasn’t determined by the strength of their abilities.

She had died three years ago.

And lately, Kael had begun to wonder whether she was the only person who believed that.

“Kael Veyron!”

His stomach tightened.

That was his name.

Three thousand faces turned toward him.

He straightened his jacket and walked toward the stage.

The examiner, a tall woman with silver hair, studied the tablet in her hands.

“Age?”

“Eighteen.”

“Family classification?”

“Unregistered.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Unregistered?”

“My family doesn’t have any recorded abilities.”

A few people in the audience laughed.

The examiner didn’t.

“Place your hand on the crystal.”

Kael approached it.

The crystal was larger than his head, its transparent surface illuminated by thin strands of blue energy.

He had imagined this moment a thousand times.

Sometimes, in his imagination, he summoned lightning.

Other times, he controlled shadows or stopped time.

Once, he imagined awakening an ability so extraordinary that the entire hall fell silent.

He had even imagined Darius Thorne looking at him with something resembling respect.

That last one had been particularly satisfying.

Kael placed his palm against the crystal.

Nothing happened.

He waited.

Five seconds.

Ten.

The examiner frowned.

“Keep your hand there.”

“I’m trying.”

A few students snickered.

The crystal remained transparent.

No light.

No symbols.

Not even a flicker.

The examiner adjusted her glasses and examined the device.

“Perhaps the crystal is defective.”

She placed her hand against the opposite side.

The crystal immediately illuminated.

Several symbols appeared above it.

The audience laughed.

Kael closed his eyes.

Wonderful.

Absolutely wonderful.

He had somehow managed to embarrass himself without even awakening an ability.

“Remove your hand,” the examiner instructed.

He obeyed.

She examined the readings once more before speaking into the hall’s communication system.

“Candidate Kael Veyron. No supernatural response detected.”

The words appeared on the enormous screen behind her.

ABILITY AWAKENED: NONE.

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then the whispers began.

“Is that even possible?”

“I thought everyone awakened something.”

“Maybe he’s defective.”

“Imagine turning eighteen just to discover you’re ordinary.”

Kael stared at the floor.

He could handle being powerless.

What he couldn’t stand was the way everyone looked at him, as though he had personally offended them by existing.

A slow clap interrupted the murmuring.

Kael didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Congratulations, Veyron.”

Darius Thorne leaned back in his seat, wearing the sort of smile that made Kael consider whether prison might actually be worth visiting.

“Three thousand people witnessed history today.”

Kael sighed.

“Really? What happened?”

Darius grinned.

“The first person to lose an argument with a rock.”

Laughter spread across the hall.

Kael looked at him.

“Careful, Thorne. That rock still has a higher chance of becoming useful than you do.”

A few people laughed for a different reason.

Darius’s smile disappeared.

For one brief moment, Kael felt better.

Then the examiner ordered him off the stage.

And the moment was gone.

By sunset, the entire city knew his name.

Not because he had achieved something extraordinary.

But because he hadn’t achieved anything at all.

Kael walked home through the crowded streets, his hands buried in his pockets.

Above him, enormous screens displayed the names of the day’s most promising candidates.

Their faces smiled down at the city.

Their achievements were celebrated.

Their futures were already being discussed.

Kael’s face appeared on one of the screens for exactly three seconds.

UNREGISTERED CANDIDATE FAILS TO AWAKEN ABILITY.

He stared at it.

“Could’ve at least used a better picture.”

“You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

Kael turned.

An elderly street vendor sat beside a cart filled with steaming buns.

The man had a long white beard and a pair of round glasses perched on his nose.

“Do you know who I am?” Kael asked.

“No.”

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“Because you look hungry.”

Kael glanced at the buns.

He was hungry.

Unfortunately, he was also broke.

The old man picked up a bun and held it out.

“On the house.”

Kael hesitated.

“Why?”

“Must there be a reason to feed someone?”

Kael studied him for a moment before accepting it.

“Thank you.”

He took a bite.

It was warm.

For the first time that day, something felt right.

Then the old man’s smile vanished.

His eyes moved to Kael’s right hand.

More specifically, to the faint black mark appearing in the centre of his palm.

Kael followed his gaze.

“What is that?”

The mark looked like a small circle surrounded by seven thin lines.

He rubbed his palm against his trousers.

It didn’t disappear.

The old man stepped backward.

The bun fell from Kael’s hand.

“What’s wrong?”

The vendor stared at him with an expression Kael couldn’t understand.

Fear.

Not ordinary fear.

The kind of fear that made a person forget how to breathe.

“No,” the old man whispered.

Kael frowned.

“What’s going on?”

The vendor grabbed the edge of his cart.

“Where did you get that mark?”

“I don’t know! It just appeared!”

The old man looked around the street.

For a moment, Kael thought he was going to scream.

Instead, the vendor leaned forward and spoke in a trembling voice.

“Listen to me carefully, boy. Whatever happens tonight, do not answer when it calls your name.”

Kael stared at him.

“What calls my name?”

But the old man had already begun packing his belongings.

He abandoned his cart and hurried into the crowd.

Kael watched him disappear.

Then he looked at his palm again.

The black mark pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

On the third pulse, every streetlight within fifty metres went dark.

People stopped walking.

Cars slowed.

Somewhere in the distance, an alarm began to sound.

Kael took a step backward.

“What the hell?”

A cold wind swept through the street.

The mark on his palm grew warm.

And then—

A voice spoke inside his head.

“Kael Veyron.”

He froze.

The voice was neither male nor female.

It sounded distant, as though it were speaking from the bottom of an ocean.

Kael looked around.

Nobody appeared to have heard it.

“Who’s there?” he whispered.

Silence.

Then the voice spoke again.

“After all this time…”

Kael’s breathing became unsteady.

“What are you?”

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then the voice laughed.

It wasn’t a joyful sound.

It was the sound of something that had been waiting in darkness for so long that it had forgotten what happiness meant.

“That’s a question you should be asking yourself.”

Kael stumbled backward.

The black mark spread across his palm before stopping abruptly at his wrist.

His vision blurred.

For a split second, the street disappeared.

He saw a vast black ocean beneath a crimson sky.

Seven enormous figures stood before a throne carved from something that looked disturbingly like bone.

Their faces were hidden.

Their heads were bowed.

And upon the throne sat a figure wearing a crown of broken horns.

The figure slowly lifted its head.

Kael couldn’t see its face.

But he felt its attention settle upon him.

Then it spoke.

“You took your time, little brother.”

The vision shattered.

Kael collapsed to one knee on the pavement.

The streetlights flickered back on.

Cars resumed moving.

People continued their conversations.

Nobody seemed to notice that the world had just changed.

Nobody except Kael.

He stared at his palm.

The black mark was gone.

But the voice remained.

“We need to talk.”

Kael swallowed.

“Who are you?”

The answer came immediately.

“I am the reason your world exists.”

A pause.

Then, in a voice that suddenly sounded almost amused:

“And someone has just realised you’re awake.”

Three kilometres away, beneath the Royal Academy, an alarm that had remained silent for 847 years began to ring.

In a sealed chamber, seven empty thrones stood in a circle.

One of them cracked.

And somewhere in the darkness beyond the chamber, a woman opened her eyes.

“Impossible,” she whispered.

A man standing beside her turned.

“What is it?”

The woman stared at the cracked throne.

For the first time in centuries, her hands were trembling.

“The Eighth has returned.”

She turned toward the doors.

“Find the boy.”

“And if he’s already found us?”

The woman went silent.

Then she gave an order that would change the fate of the entire kingdom.

“Burn every record of his existence.”