NORTH CALUM
Before them, an abandoned warehouse stood, a decrepit sentinel showcasing years of neglect through its weather-beaten exterior. Its large rusty metal doors creaked as Zavian and Zaphyr entered. Rays of sunlight seeped through cracked windows, casting eerie shadows dancing on the uneven concrete floor. The exposed ceiling beams reached out like skeletal fingers.
Within the vast open space, numerous human dummies occupied the area. These lifeless figures were constructed for training and practice, wrapped in layers of durable fabric imitating human skin. Marked with scars and abrasions from countless encounters, they bore witness to the training sessions they had endured. Their joints emitted faint mechanical sounds as Zavian maneuvered them. “What is this place?”
“This is my training spot,” Zaphyr said, his focus fixed on the human dummy. Swift and precise, he punched and struck the inanimate figure. “Lifeless dummies are essential partners in refining my skills for real-world combat.”
“I see. . . . Anyway, what’s your superpower?”
“Let me demonstrate it.” Activating his power with deliberate grace, a slender, luminous thread of energy emerged at Zaphyr’s fingertips, emitting a gentle glow. Blue light gleamed behind his brown contact lenses as he wove intricate patterns, crafting a captivating web.
The strings extended and retracted at his command, gliding silently through the air. In the dim light from broken windows, the luminous threads shone like spectral entities, casting a soft glow. His cloak billowed as he swung and propelled himself through the air. The scent of dust and a faint metallic tang lingered. Zaphyr deftly adjusted the strings’ density, thickness, and elasticity. Each manipulation sent subtle vibrations, showcasing his power and control.
Just as when Zavian thought he was done with his demonstration, Zaphyr wrapped the dummies with precision. Then, he retracted the strings, pulling the objects closer. With controlled force, he pummeled them as if they were real foes, then maneuvered the dummies back into place, still utilizing his strings like steel cables. “I’m not finished yet,” he remarked, his sweat glistening on his forehead. “Attack me with all your might.”
Zavian thoughtfully nodded. Creating distance, he concentrated his energy and unleashed a powerful spinning hook kick, channeling all his strength. Yet, his attack met an unexpected obstacle—a thick, impenetrable shield made of tightly woven thread. “I had no idea you could create such a thick thread.”
Zaphyr deactivated his power with a contented hum, the threads retracting into his fingertips. He grinned. “It took me seventeen years of practice to reach this level of control.”
“You have an impressive power.”
He smiled and invited Zavian to join him on a wooden bench. “Indeed, the potential is vast. Discovering and mastering your superpower will be an exciting journey.”
What’s mine, though?
“Zav . . . I think I may have an idea of what your superpower is.”
“What is it?”
“A power similar to mine.”
“But there were no visible strings when Iron Jo’s hand was cut off.”
“True, but that might be because we couldn’t see it.”
Zavian furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”
“Just like your mother’s ability. Your strings may be invisible too.”
His eyes widened. “Mom had a superpower too?”
Zaphyr chuckled. “Yes, she can make herself invisible. I guess that explains your ability, and I believe you’re powerful enough to make your strings razor-sharp, capable of slicing through objects with ease, just like you did to Iron Jo’s hand.”
“I see. That makes sense. I guess, I have a frightening and dangerous power.”
With a stern expression, Zaphyr responded, “Indeed, it can be if not properly controlled. Would you like to try activating your power?”
He shook his head. “Not now. I still have unanswered questions.”
“Ask me anything.”
Bluntly, Zavian inquired, “Regarding our curse . . . if we truly possess it, why hasn’t anyone chosen to live childless and end the curse with them?”
“Are you suggesting I should have refrained from having you? Your mother and I cherished you deeply.”
Zavian shrugged. “I just mentioned a simple solution.”
A melancholic smile appeared on Zaphyr’s face as he fixed his gaze on the dusty floor. “We can’t. We made a pact with the government, a solemn agreement passed down through generations, to bear a child and offer them as part of our commitment.”
That’s ridiculous. “Can’t we refuse to fulfill that obligation?”
“We can’t. Breaking the pact carries a death penalty; that’s the consequence.”
Defeated, Zavian sighed. “Why did our ancestors agree to it in the first place?”
“It was for our protection. The agreement was made to demonstrate that we are not their enemies.” He stood up. “Do you have any more questions?”
With swirling thoughts, Zavian took a moment before asking, “Are you really the one Olesia calls Dad?”
“Yes.”
“Does she know that you’re my father?”
He shook his head gently. “No. Not yet.”
“Are you deliberately keeping it a secret from her?” Zavian questioned sternly, suspicion coloring his voice as he rose to his feet to meet Zaphyr’s gaze.
“I’m sorry, Zav. I only wanted her and the children to see me as Keiro,” he confessed after a brief pause. “Conjurers who work for the government are called Shadow Heroes, and Keiro is my hero name, derived from Caerostris darwini.”
“I wasn’t even asking about that . . .” Zavian mumbled. Nevertheless, if he wasn’t mistaken, Caerostris darwini was also known as Darwin’s bark spider, famous for its remarkable silk-spinning abilities and creating immense webs. His hero name aligned with his ability.
“Zav, I need to confess something to you,” Zaphyr said hesitantly. “I . . . I sent Olesia to Green Royale High to watch over you.”
“What?” Zavian exclaimed in disbelief.
“I did it out of concern for you. When I found out you were being bullied, I got worried and asked her to protect you, to keep you out of trouble.”
Zavian had never thought he had always watched out for him, given their strained relationship. However, it was disheartening to realize that Olesia’s presence in his life was solely due to Zaphyr. “Did you ask her to befriend me?”
“No, but I was genuinely happy when she told me you two had become friends.”
A sigh of relief escaped Zavian’s lips, accompanied by a nod of understanding. “I see.”
“I hope you both continue to be friends,” Zaphyr added, his tone carrying a subtle blend of gentle reminder and underlying warning.
Zavian knew that he was cautioning him against nurturing deeper feelings for Olesia. However, it proved futile as he had already fallen in love with her. She had become his goal, his motivation, driving him to aspire to be a great Valoure and a Shadow Hero, all in the pursuit of standing by her side. “I will find a way to lift this curse.”
Despite this audacious goal, Zavian refused to let doubt weaken him. He envisioned a future free from the curse, where he and Olesia could be together without obligations. Defying destiny, he would delve into their family’s history, uncover ancient secrets, and explore every path to find a solution. He would forge a new path, breaking the chains of their cursed lineage. For love, freedom, and the opportunity to rewrite their family’s tale, he would embrace the challenge wholeheartedly. “Father, teach me how to use my power.”