Day 90 - Three Months Old
Kael took his first real step.
Not holding onto anything. Not wobbling. An actual, deliberate step forward.
His right foot lifted. Moved forward. Planted. Weight shifted. Left foot followed.
One step. Two steps. Three—
His legs gave out. Thump. He sat down hard on his padded bottom.
But he'd done it.
Three steps. Actual walking. At three months.
[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: EARLY WALKER]
Reward: 50 SP, +2 Agility, +1 Strength
Note: Average walking age: 12 months. You're ahead of schedule by 9 months. People will definitely notice.
Let them notice. I'm done hiding.
Lena gasped from across the room. She'd been folding laundry—clean laundry now, not the rags they used to have. Things were better. Much better.
"Kael! You walked!" She dropped the clothes. Rushed over. Scooped him up. "Three steps! I saw three whole steps!"
She spun him around. Laughing. Her face was bright. Healthy. The dark circles were gone. Her cheeks had color. She'd gained weight. She looked like a different person from three months ago.
And it's because I saved her.
That thought still filled him with fierce satisfaction.
"My clever, clever boy," Lena murmured. She kissed his forehead. "You're growing so fast. Too fast. Soon you won't need me at all."
I'll always need you.
But he couldn't say that yet. His vocabulary was still limited. "Mama" and "yes" and "more" and recently "no." He was working on more complex words, but three-month-old vocal cords had limits.
"Let's try again," Lena said. She set him down. Stepped back. Held out her arms. "Come to Mama. You can do it."
Kael focused. His legs were stronger now. The system's stat boosts helped. He was developing faster than any normal infant.
He stood. Wobbled. Found his balance.
Okay. Here goes.
Step. Step. Step. Step.
Four steps this time before he fell. But he fell into Lena's arms.
She caught him. Held him tight. "Yes! Oh, you're so strong!"
Someone knocked on the door. Three quick raps. RAP RAP RAP.
Lena's smile faded slightly. "Come in."
Marta entered. She was carrying a basket. "Morning, Lena. Brought you—" She stopped. Looked at Kael. "Was he just walking?"
"Yes!" Lena beamed. "Four steps!"
"Four steps. At three months." Marta set down the basket. Crossed her arms. "Of course he was."
[Morning, Marta.] Kael reached out mentally. They'd established a routine. He'd buy communication talismans every few days. It was expensive—150 SP each—but worth it. Marta was his eyes and ears in the keep.
[How are things up there?]
Marta's expression didn't change, but he felt her mental response. [Complicated. Word's spreading about you. The 'genius bastard' rumors are getting louder.]
"Lena," Marta said aloud, "we need to talk. About Kael."
Lena's smile dimmed further. "What about him?"
"He's attracting attention." Marta glanced at the door. Lowered her voice. "The wives have noticed. Some of the children too. They're curious. Some are... not happy."
"He's just a baby—"
"Who walks at three months. Who spoke at one month. Who's smarter than children twice his age." Marta's tone was gentle but firm. "Lena, you can't hide this. He's going to stand out."
[She's right,] Kael projected. [We need to be smart about this.]
Lena bit her lip. "What should I do?"
"Keep him close. Don't let him wander the keep alone. And..." Marta hesitated. "Prepare for visits. From the family."
"The family?" Lena's face went pale. "You mean—"
"The legitimate children. Maybe some of the wives. They'll want to see him. To assess him." Marta's eyes were serious. "Bastard or not, talent is talent. And in this clan, talent matters."
[When?] Kael asked.
[Soon. Maybe today. Lady Morgana sent a servant to ask about you yesterday.]
Fuck. The First Wife. Mother of the heir.
"What do they want with him?" Lena's voice shook. "He's just—"
"Lena." Marta put a hand on her shoulder. "Stop saying he's 'just' anything. He's not. And pretending won't protect him. You need to be ready."
The door slammed open. No knock. Just BANG as it hit the wall.
A woman strode in. Tall. Maybe forty. Expensive silk dress—deep purple with gold embroidery. Hair piled high in an elaborate style. Jewelry glittering. Sharp, cold eyes that swept the room with obvious disdain.
Behind her, two children. A boy—ten or eleven, richly dressed. And a girl—maybe eight, in a fancy blue dress.
Lena immediately bowed. Deep. Subservient. "Lady Morgana. I—I didn't know you were coming. I would have prepared—"
"Silence." Lady Morgana's voice was like ice. "I don't need your excuses, girl. I came to see the bastard everyone's talking about."
Her eyes landed on Kael.
He stared back. Not breaking eye contact. Analyzing.
[OBSERVE ACTIVATED]
[TARGET: LADY MORGANA ASHFORD]
Name: Lady Morgana Ashford (First Wife)
Age: 42
Rank: Diamond Star (Master Level)
Occupation: Matriarch, Political Strategist
Attributes:
Strength: 45
Agility: 38
Intelligence: 68 (Very High)
Charisma: 52
Mana: 340
Status Effects:
[Noble Authority] - Commands respect and fear
[Political Mastery] - Expert manipulator
[Protective Mother] - Will do anything for her children
Relationship:
Kael Ashford: Suspicious (20/100) - Sees potential threat
Threat Level: EXTREME
Notes: Highly intelligent, politically savvy, ruthless when protecting her family's interests. Views all bastards as potential threats to her son's inheritance. Approach with caution.
Well. Fuck.
Lady Morgana stepped closer. Her heels clicked on the stone floor. Click click click. She looked down at Kael with cold assessment.
"So this is it. The genius bastard." She circled him slowly. Like a predator examining prey. "He doesn't look special. Scrawny little thing."
The boy—one of Kael's half-brothers—sneered. "He's tiny. Smaller than my baby cousin."
The girl said nothing. Just watched with curious eyes.
"Can it really walk?" Lady Morgana asked. Not to Kael. To Lena. Like he was an object.
"Yes, my lady. He took his first steps today—"
"Show me."
Lena looked at Kael. Helpless. Apologetic.
It's okay, Mom. I can handle this.
Kael stood. Deliberately. Slowly. Making eye contact with Lady Morgana the whole time.
Then walked. Six steps. Straight toward her.
Stopped. Looked up. Met her gaze.
I'm not afraid of you.
The room went silent.
Lady Morgana's eyebrow raised. "Interesting. Most babies cry when they see me. This one..." She knelt down. Eye level with Kael. "You understand, don't you? You understand more than you should."
Kael didn't look away. Didn't cry. Just stared.
"Mama," he said. Clear. Deliberate. Then pointed at Lena.
"It speaks." Lady Morgana tilted her head. "Say something else, bastard."
"No." Kael's voice was firm.
The boy gasped. "Did it just refuse?"
"It did." Lady Morgana's lips curved. Not quite a smile. More like... interest. "Clever. Defiant. And walking at three months." She stood. Brushed off her dress. "The rumors weren't exaggerated."
She looked at Lena. "How old is it?"
"Three months, my lady. Tomorrow."
"Impossible. Babies don't walk at three months."
"I know, my lady. But he does. He's... special."
"Special." Lady Morgana's tone was contemplative. "Yes. That's one word for it." She glanced at Marta. "You. Servant. You've been helping this girl, haven't you? Extra rations. Medicine. Don't deny it. I have eyes everywhere."
Marta bowed. "The head cook's orders, my lady. Not mine."
"The head cook." Lady Morgana's eyes narrowed. "I'll have words with him. But that's not important right now." She turned back to Kael. "Listen, bastard. I don't know what you are or why you're different. But you're still a bastard. You have no claim. No rights. You exist because my husband was drunk and careless."
She knelt again. Her face inches from Kael's. Her voice dropped. Cold. Dangerous.
"If you become a threat to my son. If you try to claim anything that's his. I will crush you. Do you understand? I don't care how clever you are. You're nothing. Remember that."
Kael held her gaze. His infant heart was pounding. She was terrifying. Powerful. Dangerous.
But he didn't look away.
"No," he said again. Softer. But clear.
Lady Morgana's eyes widened. Then she laughed. Short. Sharp. "Incredible. You really are fearless." She stood. "Very well. We'll see how long that lasts."
She turned to leave. Paused at the door.
"Cedric." The boy straightened. "Keep an eye on this one. Report to me if it does anything... unusual."
"Yes, Mother."
"Lyra." The girl looked up. "You're to begin training soon. Work hard. Don't let a bastard show you up."
"Yes, Mother."
They left. The door closed. Click.
Silence.
Then Lena collapsed. She sat hard on the floor. Shaking.
"Gods. Oh gods. She was here. In our room. She—" Lena looked at Kael. "You said no. To Lady Morgana. Twice."
"That was either very brave or very stupid," Marta said quietly. "Possibly both."
[She threatened me. Threatened us. I wasn't going to just accept it.]
[I know. But that woman is dangerous. Diamond Star rank. Political genius. And she now sees you as a potential threat.]
[Good.]
[Good? Kid, this is bad. Very bad.]
[No. It's better than being ignored. Better than being dismissed. She sees me as something now. That's useful.]
Lena picked Kael up. Held him tight. "You scared me. Both of you scared me." Her voice was muffled against his head. "I don't want to lose you. I can't lose you."
"You won't," Marta said firmly. "But we need to be smarter. That visit was reconnaissance. She'll be watching now."
[Then let's give her something to watch.]
Day 105 - Three and a Half Months Old
Kael's vocabulary had exploded.
Thirty-two words now. And he was learning more every day.
"Mama." "Papa." "Yes." "No." "More." "Please." "Thank." "Hungry." "Tired." "Want." "Help." "Up." "Down." "Hot." "Cold." "Good." "Bad." And on and on.
He strung them together now. Simple sentences.
"Mama hungry?" he'd ask when Lena looked tired.
"Want help," when she was carrying something heavy.
"Thank you," whenever she fed him or changed him or held him.
And Lena... Lena cried happy tears every time.
"You're so smart," she'd whisper. "My brilliant boy."
But today, they had visitors again.
Not Lady Morgana this time. Something different.
Marta had warned them. "Three of the bastards are coming. Half-siblings. They want to meet you."
Other bastards?
"The duke has... a lot of children," Marta explained. "Not all from his wives. Some from concubines. Some from servants like Lena. They have status above you—most are older, more established. But still bastards. Still... on the outside."
Now, three of them stood in the tiny room.
A girl, maybe six years old. Blonde hair in braids. Expensive dress—not as rich as Lady Morgana's children, but nice. She looked at Kael with open curiosity.
A boy, around eight. Dark hair. Simple but clean clothes. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Suspicious eyes.
And another girl, about five. Black hair. Plain dress. She hid behind the older girl, peeking at Kael nervously.
The blonde girl spoke first. "Hello. I'm Iris. I'm six. Are you really the baby who can walk and talk?"
Kael nodded. "Yes. Walk. Talk."
Her eyes went wide. "Oh! You can talk! That's amazing!" She knelt down. Eye level with him. "Can you say my name? Iris?"
"Iris," Kael repeated. Clear. Perfect pronunciation.
She clapped her hands. "You did it! You're so clever!"
The boy snorted. "It's a trick. Babies can't talk like that."
"He just did, Marcus," Iris said without looking back. "You saw him."
Marcus—the eight-year-old—pushed off the wall. Walked closer. "Say something harder. Say... 'I am a bastard who will never amount to anything.'"
Kael stared at him. "No. You mean."
Marcus's face darkened. "What did you—"
"Marcus!" Iris stood. Put herself between them. "Don't be cruel. He's just a baby."
"A baby who called me mean." But Marcus backed off slightly. "Whatever. I came to see if the rumors were true. They are. Congratulations, kid. You're a freak."
He left. Stomp stomp stomp. The door slammed.
The younger girl crept forward. Whispered to Iris, "Is he gone?"
"Yes, Eliza. He's gone."
Eliza looked at Kael. Smiled shyly. "Hi. I'm Eliza. I'm five. Do you... do you like toys?"
Kael nodded. "Toys good."
She pulled something from her pocket. A small wooden horse. Crude carving. But carefully made.
"I made this. For you. Welcome... welcome to the family." She handed it to him. "We bastards have to stick together, right?"
Kael took the horse. Examined it. It was rough. Simple. But made with care.
"Thank you," he said. Clear. Sincere. "Pretty."
Eliza beamed. "You like it! I'm so glad!"
Iris smiled. "We wanted to meet you. The legitimate children get all the attention. All the training. All the resources. But we're family too. Even if the clan doesn't always remember that."
She knelt again. Met Kael's eyes. "You're special. Everyone's talking about you. Some are jealous. Some are scared. Some think you're going to change things."
"Change?" Kael asked.
"The clan. The way they treat us. The bastards." Iris's voice was soft but intense. "You're different. Talented. If you prove yourself, maybe they'll start taking all of us seriously."
That's... a lot of pressure for a three-month-old.
But he understood. These kids—his half-siblings—were looking for hope. For someone to prove they weren't worthless just because of how they were born.
"I try," Kael said. Simple. Honest. "Try hard."
"That's all we can do," Iris said. She stood. "We have to go. But we'll visit again. If that's okay?"
"Okay," Kael agreed. "Friends?"
"Friends." Iris smiled. "Come on, Eliza. Let's go before Marcus causes trouble."
They left. The door closed gently this time. Click.
Lena let out a breath. "That was... better than I expected."
"Two allies," Marta observed. "And one enemy. Not bad for a day's work."
[Iris and Eliza,] Kael projected to Marta. [They're genuine. They want connection. Marcus is bitter. Jealous maybe.]
[Agreed. But be careful with all of them. Bastard or not, everyone in this clan has an agenda.]
[Including me.]
[Especially you.]
Day 120 - Four Months Old
Kael could run now.
Not well. He was still a baby. His legs were short, his balance imperfect. But he could run.
Thump thump thump. His feet pattered on the stone floor.
Lena laughed as she chased him. "Come back here, you little troublemaker! You need a bath!"
"No bath!" Kael shouted. He'd learned to hate baths. The water was always too cold. The soap stung his eyes. It was miserable.
"Yes bath! You're covered in dirt!"
He'd been outside. In the servant's courtyard. Playing—or his version of playing. Mostly just walking around, observing things, using his Observe skill on plants and insects and other servants.
But he'd fallen. Multiple times. Now he was filthy.
"Mama no catch!" Kael ducked around the crate-crib. Grinning.
"Oh, you think you're clever?" Lena circled the other way. "I'm faster than you think!"
She lunged. Caught him. "Got you!"
Kael squealed. Actual child laughter bubbling out. He couldn't help it. This was fun. Playing with Lena was fun.
I'm laughing. Actually laughing like a kid. When did that happen?
Part of him—the adult Marcus Chen part—was slightly disturbed by how natural this felt. By how much he enjoyed being held by Lena. Being cared for. Being loved.
I'm regressing. Mentally. Emotionally.
But another part thought: Is that really a bad thing? I died alone. Now I have someone who loves me unconditionally. Why not enjoy it?
Lena carried him to the washbasin. Started filling it with water from a pitcher. "You're getting too fast. Soon I won't be able to catch you at all."
"Good," Kael said mischievously. "Then no bath ever."
"Oh really?" Lena tickled his sides. He squirmed. Giggled. "What if I do this? Still no bath?"
"No! Stop!" But he was laughing.
Someone knocked. RAP RAP RAP.
Lena's smile faded. "Who is it?"
"Messenger. From the Duke."
The room went cold.
Lena set Kael down. Smoothed her dress. Opened the door.
A man in servant livery stood there. Older. Official-looking. He held a sealed letter.
"Lena. Servant to House Ashford. You're to receive this message." He handed her the letter. Sealed with red wax. The Ashford crest stamped into it.
Lena's hands shook as she took it. "What... what is this?"
"Official summons. You and your child are to appear before Duke Ashford. Tomorrow. Noon. In the main hall." The messenger's voice was flat. Bored. He'd delivered a thousand of these. "Failure to appear will result in expulsion from the keep."
He left. Stomp stomp stomp.
Lena stared at the letter. Her face was white.
"The Duke," she whispered. "He wants to see us. To see Kael."
Marta appeared in the doorway. Must have been listening. "This was inevitable. Word reached him. About the genius bastard son."
"What does he want?" Lena's voice cracked. "What if he—what if he takes Kael away? Or kicks us out? Or—"
"Lena." Marta grabbed her shoulders. "Breathe. You're panicking."
"Of course I'm panicking! The Duke—"
"Is a ruthless bastard who cares about power and strength above all else." Marta's tone was firm. "If Kael impresses him, you're safe. If Kael doesn't..." She didn't finish.
Lena looked at Kael. Terrified. "You're four months old. How can you impress a Duke? How can you—"
"Mama." Kael walked to her. Put his small hand on her leg. "It okay. I strong."
"You're a baby," Lena sobbed. "You shouldn't have to be strong. You should just... be a baby."
But I'm not just a baby. And tomorrow, I prove it.
Kael looked at Marta. She met his eyes. He could see the worry there.
[Tomorrow could change everything,] she projected. [The Duke isn't like his wives or his children. He's... different. Dangerous in a different way.]
[I know. But I'm ready.]
[Are you?]
[I have to be.]
That night, Lena held Kael close. She didn't sleep. Just held him. Whispered prayers to gods he didn't know.
And Kael stared at the ceiling. Planning.
Tomorrow, I meet my father. The Duke. The man who's never even acknowledged my existence.
Time to change that.
Day 121 - Four Months Old - The Summons
The main hall was enormous.
Stone walls soaring up to a vaulted ceiling. Banners hanging from the rafters—the Ashford crest everywhere. Sword crossed with a star. Torches burning in iron sconces, casting dancing shadows.
At the far end, a throne. Not the emperor's throne—that was in the capital. But a duke's seat. Carved stone. Imposing. Terrifying.
And sitting on it: Duke Aldric Ashford.
Kael's father.
The man was massive. Six foot four at least. Broad shoulders. Scarred face. Gray hair cropped short. Eyes like chips of ice. He wore simple clothes—warrior's garb, not noble finery. But his presence dominated the room.
[OBSERVE ACTIVATED]
[TARGET: DUKE ALDRIC ASHFORD]
Name: Duke Aldric Ashford
Age: 52
Rank: Star-Emperor (Late Stage) - Empire Protector Level
Occupation: Duke, General, Void Spawn Hunter
Attributes:
Strength: 158 (Superhuman)
Agility: 142 (Superhuman)
Endurance: 175 (Monstrous)
Intelligence: 85 (Above Average)
Willpower: 165 (Unbreakable)
Mana: 2,840 (Overwhelming)
Status Effects:
[Battle-Scarred Veteran] - Has killed thousands
[Void Corruption Resistance] - Fought cosmic horrors, soul hardened
[Absolute Authority] - His word is law in his domain
[Emotionally Distant] - Views people as assets or obstacles
Relationship:
Kael Ashford: Unaware (0/100) - Doesn't know you exist as individual
Threat Level: ABSOLUTE - DO NOT ANTAGONIZE
Notes: This man has fought Void Lords and survived. He's killed Star-Lords in single combat. He views strength as the only virtue worth having. Weakness disgusts him. Do not show weakness.
Holy shit. My father is a monster.
Lena was shaking. She knelt immediately. Deep bow. Forehead almost touching the stone floor.
"Your Grace. Thank you for—for summoning us. I—"
"Silence." One word. The Duke's voice was deep. Like grinding stone. "I didn't ask you to speak."
Lena froze.
The Duke's eyes swept over her. Dismissed her. Then landed on Kael.
For a long moment, he just stared.
Kael stood. Not kneeling. Not bowing. Just... standing. Looking back.
I will not show fear. Not to him. Not to anyone.
"You." The Duke leaned forward slightly. "You're the one. The bastard everyone's talking about."
Kael didn't answer. Couldn't. His throat was dry. But he maintained eye contact.
"They say you can walk. Talk. At four months." The Duke's tone was... assessing. Clinical. Like examining a weapon. "Show me."
Kael walked. Straight toward the throne. Ten steps. Twenty. Thirty.
Stopped at the base of the steps leading up to the throne.
"I walk," he said. Clear. Loud. "I talk. I strong."
The Duke's eyebrow raised. "Strong? You're a baby."
"Strong here." Kael tapped his head. "Think good. Learn fast."
Someone gasped. One of the wives. Lady Morgana? She was there. Watching from the side. Along with her children and several others.
The Duke studied Kael. Silent. Intense.
Then: "Come here."
Kael climbed the steps. One. Two. Three. His short legs struggled. But he didn't stop.
Reached the top. Stood in front of the Duke.
The man reached down. Grabbed Kael's arm. Not gentle. Examining. Feeling muscle. Bone structure.
"Weak body," he said. "Fragile. But..." He tapped Kael's head. "Something here. Something different."
He released Kael. Sat back. "I've sired twenty-seven legitimate children. Dozens of bastards. Most are worthless. Weak. Failures." His eyes bored into Kael. "Are you worthless?"
"No," Kael said immediately. Firmly.
"Prove it."
Silence.
Kael's mind raced. Prove it how? I'm four months old. What can I possibly do to impress a Star-Emperor?
Then he had an idea.
He walked to the edge of the platform. Jumped.
Not far. Maybe two feet down to the next step. But he landed. On his feet. Didn't fall.
Then did it again. And again. Jumping down each step. Landing each time.
The hall was silent except for his small feet landing. Thump. Thump. Thump.
At the bottom, he turned. Climbed back up. All the way. Without stopping.
Reached the top. Breathing hard. Tired. But standing.
"Strong," he said again. Panting. "Get stronger. I promise."
The Duke watched. Expression unreadable.
Then he laughed.
Sharp. Short. But real.
"Interesting." He looked at Lena. She was still kneeling. Still terrified. "You. Servant. What's your name?"
"L-Lena, Your Grace."
"Lena. Your bastard is... acceptable." He waved a hand. "He may stay. Give him the minimum resources. If he proves himself worthy by age five, he'll be allowed to train with the clan."
"Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you—"
"I'm not finished." The Duke's voice cut her off. "If he proves weak. If he fails. He's out. You both are. Understand?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Good. Leave."
Lena grabbed Kael. Bowed repeatedly as she backed away. "Thank you, thank you—"
They left the hall. Fast. Almost running.
Outside, Lena collapsed against a wall. Crying. Not sad tears. Relief.
"He said yes. He said you can stay. He saw you and he—" She hugged Kael tight. "You were so brave. So strong."
I was terrified.
But he'd done it. He'd impressed the Duke. Maybe not much. But enough.
[QUEST COMPLETE: FIRST IMPRESSIONS]
Reward: 200 SP, [Duke's Recognition] title, Access to clan resources (limited)
[DUKE'S RECOGNITION]
Effect: The Duke knows you exist. You have five years to prove your worth. Failure means exile.
Five years. I can work with that.
Marta found them in the hallway. "Well? How'd it go?"
"He said Kael can stay!" Lena was still crying. "He recognized him!"
"Minimum resources," Marta corrected. "That means food and shelter. Nothing else. But it's better than nothing."
[It's a start,] Kael projected. [A foothold. Now I just need to climb.]
[One step at a time, kid. One step at a time.]
As they walked back to their tiny room, Kael's mind was already racing ahead. Planning. Strategizing.
The Duke wants proof of strength. Fine. I'll give him strength. I'll show him what a bastard can become.
Five years until the clan trials. Five years to awaken my Soul Forge. Five years to become someone they can't ignore.
The game just entered a new phase.
And I'm ready.
[END CHAPTER 3]