Chapter 55: Kael's First Chaotic Hours
The moment Kael drew his first breath, the world hiccuped.
Not metaphorically—no, the sky literally shimmered with a sharp intake of cosmic air, like the universe itself was startled. Thunder cracked without clouds, fish leapt from lakes in choreographed panic, and somewhere deep in the Thalor vault, a 10,000-year-old prophecy scroll burst into flame, promptly setting off the magical equivalent of a smoke alarm.
In the golden chambers of Pyranthos, Valeria—newly crowned, utterly regal, and utterly unprepared for the chaos that was her newborn son—sat in her silken birthing bed, utterly still. She was not glowing in the divine sense. She was glowing in the literal sense. Her hair crackled with contained flame, her eyes sparked with unfiltered firelight, and her crown floated two inches above her head, tilting slightly as if drunk.
"He sneezed," she whispered, staring at Kael, who lay wrapped in golden linen. "And five birds outside exploded."
Nereus—husband, former god of oceans, and now utterly terrified father—peeked around the door like a nervous intern asked to handle nuclear waste.
"Is... is it safe to come in?"
Kael gurgled. Somewhere in the garden, a tree grew five feet in an instant before collapsing under its own weight.
"Define safe," Valeria deadpanned.
They had anticipated divine power. They had expected tantrums. But they had not anticipated this: a divine baby whose laughter summoned glowing butterflies and whose burps cracked the palace ceiling. The midwives had politely excused themselves after the first minute, citing the sudden onset of demonic possession. One of them attempted to retire on the spot.
Kael's eyes glowed a deep aquamarine when he cooed, but blazed with molten gold when he was irritated—like during swaddling.
He hated swaddling.
The first attempt ended with Nereus slipping on melted marble and crashing into a vase older than recorded time.
"Maybe we just don't restrain the baby," Jaxon suggested, clutching a bag of frozen grapes to his head.
"Maybe we wrap the palace in a divine containment field," Valeria countered, adjusting her new crown, which now radiated a low hum of disapproval. "He just launched a fireball at the moon."
"It missed," Jaxon offered, optimistic.
"It grazed the observatory tower!"
Kael gurgled again. The fireflies in the room synchronized their glow to spell out "Hi Mom."
Valeria sighed and rubbed her temples. "At least he's polite."
---
A Council in Panic
Far away in Aeronthal, the Divine Council had reconvened in utter emergency. High Priestess Elvathra had cast a vote to reconvene every five hours until Kael reached at least walking age.
"He changed the trajectory of a comet by crying!" bellowed Lord Kaithon, banging his scepter on the table. "Do you know how many centuries that comet's schedule has been fixed?!"
"He's teething," Elvathra said calmly.
"His teeth are made of mythril!"
The gods argued over containment protocols, celestial playpens, and whether pacifiers could be enchanted with runes of silence. Meanwhile, in Pyranthos...
---
Back at the Palace
Kael's first nap was an event.
Valeria had barely laid him down before the shadows in the corners of the room began to stretch. The torches flickered. A nearby tapestry wept ash. The baby yawned.
"Do you think he's summoning a shadow beast to play with?" Nereus asked.
"No," Valeria said, squinting. "I think he's manifesting his other half."
"What other half?"
Kael blinked. A second, tiny figure—identical to him but shimmering in icy blue—appeared beside him, gurgling happily.
Nereus fainted. Gracefully.
---
The Prophecy Scroll's Footnote (Newly Appeared)
A fiery script appeared on the wall beside the throne room, unrolling like a sticky note from destiny itself:
> "Beware the child who dreams in both flame and frost. For he is not one. He is two."
Valeria read it in silence, rocking Kael—now holding hands with his spectral twin.
She muttered, "I don't even remember having a second one."
Kael hiccupped. The room turned upside down for two seconds.
---
Later That Night
In the royal nursery—now reinforced with runes, guards, a magical bard, and a professional comedian for stress relief—Kael slept peacefully.
Nereus and Valeria sat outside the warded door, sipping from matching flasks.
"He's... perfect," Valeria whispered, awe and exhaustion mixing in her voice.
"Perfectly terrifying," Nereus said, eyes wide. "But yeah. He's ours."
In the cradle, Kael dreamed—and the world watched.