Ziraiah’s voice cut through the silence, sharp but trembling.

  “Val, if you hurt him—”

  Valerius turned his bandaged head toward her, green eyes gleaming beneath the wrappings.

  “What? What are you going to do?”

  Ziraiah stepped closer, standing over him. Her shadow fell across his face as her voice lowered.

  “I’m warning you, Val.”

  His jaw clenched, but before he could speak, another voice slipped into the room.

  “Is everything alright?”

  Both of them turned. Sierra stood in the doorway, eyes darting between the siblings. Her gaze froze when she caught Valerius’s green eyes. Recognition flickered.

  “Oh… it’s you.”

  Ziraiah’s lips tightened. “You have to stop doing this, Val. You’re not Dad. What’s it to you who I date?”

  Valerius looked up at her, his stare never breaking.

  “He’s not good for you. Sooner or later, he’s going to break your heart.”

  “You don’t know that,” Ziraiah snapped.

  “I’m the only one who does,” Valerius shot back.

  Blood suddenly trickled through the bandages, seeping red against white. He coughed, a wet sound tearing his throat. His body strained with the effort of forcing words through wounds that hadn’t healed.

  “Val—are you okay?” Ziraiah stepped forward, her voice softening.

  Valerius nodded, breath ragged. Then, without warning, he vanished.

  The window rattled with the shockwave. Outside, a blur tore across the streets of Festitude Academy, disappearing into the night.

  Ziraiah stood frozen, staring out the window.

  Beside her, Sierra’s eyes widened. “Isn’t he supposed to be… non-gifted?”

  She looked at Ziraiah again. The blanket clutched around Ziraiah’s body only made the silence heavier. A suspicion crept into Sierra’s eyes.

  “Don’t tell me you and your brother have that kind of relationship.”

  Ziraiah recoiled. “What? No. God, no. He… he walked in on me.”

  Sierra arched a brow. “Why do you look like you just fought a beast? I’ve never seen you hurt before.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Ziraiah muttered, voice hard but shaky.

  They stood side by side at the window, the two moons hanging cold above Heful.

  Sierra’s voice was quiet now. “…So, he found out, huh?”

  Ziraiah nodded.

  “How did he take it?”

  “Exactly as I expected.”

  She kept her eyes on the moons for a long moment, their light catching the wetness building in her lashes. Finally, she turned to Sierra, tears brimming. Her voice cracked.

  “Sierra… I’m worried about David.”

  Sierra’s expression softened. She pulled Ziraiah into a hug, rubbing her back gently.

  “Aww. Is he really that bad?”

  They both sat down on the bed, silence settling around them.

  After a pause, Ziraiah whispered, almost to herself:

  “Five years ago, when I was eleven… there was this boy who liked me.”

  ---

  Five Years Ago

  Early morning sunlight spilled across the living room. On the floor, Ziraiah and Valerius wrestled like wild animals, their limbs tangled around the one prize that mattered most: the remote.

  “Give it back!” Ziraiah snapped, her eleven-year-old voice sharp.

  “No,” Valerius shot back, clutching it to his chest. “My show is coming on.”

  Ziraiah yanked harder. “Give it back, Val, I took it first!”

  “Just wait till my show is over,” Valerius grunted, twisting away.

  “No! Stop being a jerk!” she yelled, smacking his chest with her fists.

  “Aww, stop that!” Valerius shouted, curling around the remote.

  “Give it back!”

  She clawed at his face, her small hands squeezing his cheeks until his mouth squished together.

  “Aw, aw, aw, aw! Stop that!” Valerius screamed, thrashing under her.

  Then—crack.

  The remote snapped in half between his hands.

  Both froze.

  Ziraiah’s eyes went wide. “Why did you break it?”

  “It was an accident!” Valerius said quickly, holding up the ruined halves.

  “You did it on purpose!” she accused, launching at him again. She jumped on his back, pinning him down. Her fingers pressed into his face again, digging dangerously close to his eyes.

  “AAAHHH! My eyes!” Valerius screamed.

  Before either could do more damage, Lyriana appeared, impossibly graceful even in the chaos. She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t strain — she simply hooked two fingers into the back of Ziraiah’s shirt and lifted her clean off Valerius like she was a kitten.

  “Stop it, Ziraiah,” Lyriana said firmly.

  “He started it!” Ziraiah protested, kicking in the air.

  “You shouldn’t put your hands in people’s eyes. Apologize. Now.”

  Ziraiah pouted but muttered, “Sorry.”

  On the sofa, Daniel reclined lazily, dark-skinned and broad-shouldered, his voice rich with his African accent. “Folks, throw socks and shoes to feet so we can vamoos.”

  Lyriana turned her emerald gaze on him, unimpressed. “Would it kill you to speak like a gentleman?”

  Daniel laughed. “Little Z, what is this woman’s problem? Ask your mother what her problem is. Aren’t you folks?”

  Ziraiah blinked, looking between them nervously. “Umm… uhh…”

  “Don’t look at her eyes!” Daniel warned dramatically. “She’ll give you that dangerous look.” He turned toward Valerius. “Valerius, my boy, hurry up and throw socks to feet.”

  Valerius groaned as he got up. “Do I have to? Why can’t you do it? It’s not even hard.”

  “Because I am getting old, and the young should work for the old,” Daniel said solemnly, stretching his legs like a king.

  With an exaggerated sigh, Valerius grabbed socks and knelt, slipping them onto Daniel’s feet, then shoved his shoes on.

  Daniel nodded with mock seriousness. “Instead of getting ready, you are here fighting for TV remote. If I enter that car and you are not there, I will leave you behind. You will walk to school.”

  The threat lit a fire under them. Ziraiah and Valerius bolted upstairs to change.

  Minutes later, Valerius was still dragging his feet when he heard the car engine start. He froze, then dashed to the window.

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  “No way. He’s really gonna leave me!”

  “Daaad, wait!” he shouted, scrambling into his clothes. He leapt out the first-floor window, hit the ground running, and dove into the car just as it started to roll out.

  Daniel sat at the wheel, grinning. “You people, why do you always make me late? Especially that of your mother.”

  From inside the house, Lyriana’s voice thundered: “I HEARD THAT!”

  Valerius caught sight of Eryndor gliding out of the garage on his bike. His envy flared. “Dad, I want a bike too.”

  Daniel didn’t miss a beat. “Ask me again in three years.”

  As the car rolled out of their estate, Valerius slumped against the window. “Why do I have to go to school?”

  Daniel groaned. “Here we go again.”

  “School sucks,” Valerius muttered. “And I’m way smarter than my teachers.”

  “I’ve told you a million times,” Daniel said, voice patient but firm. “You go to school so you can socialize and be with kids your own age. It was never about education — your mother has that covered.”

  ---

  Daniel dropped them off and drove away, his music already blaring as he tapped the steering wheel.

  Inside the school gates, Valerius scowled, hands shoved into his pockets.

  “This is a prison,” he muttered.

  It was Valentine’s Day. All around them, boys and girls swapped flowers, ribbons, and little boxes of sweets. The air buzzed with laughter, giggles, and shy confessions.

  Then it happened.

  A boy, clutching a rose and a box of chocolates, walked straight up to Ziraiah. His face was red, but his voice was steady.

  “Ziraiah… will you be my Valentine?”

  Those words hit Valerius like a blade to the chest. His whole body stiffened, face twisting as he stared at the boy. His hands clenched until his knuckles whitened.

  ---

  Out on the road, Daniel sang along cheerfully to his music, his accent thick with rhythm.

  Then his phone rang. He tapped his earpiece, voice switching instantly into crisp British formality.

  “Hello, Daniel speaking.”

  The voice on the other end trembled with urgency.

  “Mr. Delindor, it’s urgent. Please come immediately. It’s about Valerius.”

  Daniel’s smile dropped. His jaw set.

  “…I’m on my way.”

  He spun the wheel, tires screeching as he whipped the car around and floored it back toward the school.

  ---

  When he arrived, chaos had already consumed the campus.

  Students clustered in a screaming crowd, some crying, some pale with shock. Teachers barked orders, trying desperately to push them back, but the air was thick with panic.

  Daniel shoved through, muttering “Excuse me—move, move,” until he reached the center.

  And then he saw it.

  The school doctor knelt over a boy sprawled on the floor, his shirt drenched in blood. Bandages pressed against a deep, gaping wound in his belly. “Stay with me, Peter! Don’t close your eyes!” the doctor pleaded, hands trembling as he worked.

  Beside them, Ziraiah stood frozen, her hands clamped over her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the carnage.

  And only a few steps away…

  Valerius. Restrained by two security guards. Blood dripping slowly from his right hand. His head bowed, his breathing shallow, his whole body shaking with something between shock and regret.

  Daniel’s heart dropped. “Oh no…”

  He looked from Valerius’s bloodied hand to the broken boy on the floor, and the weight of it all sank like a stone.

  ---

  “Your son attacked another student,” a female teacher said quickly, eyes wide with fear. “The injury is critical. We’ve called an ambulance and the police. Because of his age, he’ll be treated as a juvenile, but this is extremely serious.”

  A male teacher added harshly, “He’s just a boy, and yet he struck with enough force to nearly kill him! We’ve never seen anything like this!”

  Another teacher shook his head in disbelief. “We didn’t expect a thirteen-year-old could be capable of such violence… we could have intervene, but it was too late.”

  The door banged open.

  A man rushed in, his eyes instantly locking on the bloodied child. “No—no, no, no, Peter!” He dropped to his knees, clutching his son’s limp hand. “Stay with me, son, stay with me!”

  His grief snapped into fury. He whipped around, eyes blazing. “What happened here?! How could you let this happen to my son? Who did this?!”

  Then he saw Valerius. Restrained. Bloody-handed.

  “You little monster!” the father roared, surging toward him before the guards held him back. “Look what you did to my child!” He struggled, spitting rage. “You’re just a boy… how could you do something so cruel?! What did he ever do to you to deserve this?! You should be locked up for the rest of your life!”

  Valerius trembled, eyes fixed on his hands, crimson dripping from his knuckles. His mind raced. I didn’t mean it… I didn’t… he just… made me angry…

  “Please, calm down,” a teacher urged, trying to hold the father back. “We can’t make this worse—”

  Daniel’s voice cut through, firm but low. “I’m sorry for what happened. I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”

  “Didn’t mean it?!” the father snapped, pointing a shaking hand at his dying son. “Look at him! How can you say this was an accident? How can any boy do something like this and not mean it?!”

  Daniel turned to Valerius. His face hardened, a stern look that cut deeper than any shout. Valerius couldn’t hold it — he turned his face away, guilt burning in his chest.

  Slowly, Daniel pulled out his phone. His hands were steady, but his voice carried a weight that wasn’t there before.

  “Uhh… honey.”

  On the other end, Lyriana’s voice was immediate and sharp. “Okay. What did you do? You don’t call me that unless something happened.”

  Daniel closed his eyes, forcing the words out.

  “It’s about Valerius. And it’s not good.”

  ---

  To Be Continued...

  ? Reluctant hero

  ? Slow-burn with in-depth character building

  ? Simple power system with infinite possibilities

  ? Multiple POVs

  ? Action, with a side of strategy

  ? Slice-of-life, school life and romance elements

  ? Dialogue-driven narrative