Kael was three months old when he first walked.
By the time he turned one, he could speak in complete sentences, grasp basic runes, and condense ambient starlight into his miniature world at will. The elders called him "Heaven's First Echo." His mother wept the first time he levitated a mountain within his inner world and reversed time by two minutes around a dying blossom, forcing it to bloom anew.
Regardless of how amazing his potential looks, the clan does not coddle miracles. The other clans were not made of vegetables, to enjoy more resources, and privileges. They needed to keep churning out prodigies, and now, because of Kael, they had a chance to become the overlords of Astralis. They would never relax because of the Kael's potential. Potential is great but without power in hand, Potential won't be enough to save your life.
The Vorian clan believed that pressure bred stars, and Kael, with his overwhelming soul, monstrous affinity, and affinity to aether itself was no mere prodigy. He was a singularity and so needed to be held to a higher standard than normal prodigies, experience more, go higher, and surpass everyone or end up looking like a joke, and bringing shame to his clan, and so, at the age of four, his true training began.
He will either rise beyond us all….or shatter under his own weight, the Grand Elder looked at him and said.
Training Grounds: Vorian Ascension Chambers
Buried beneath the floating city-fortress of the Vorian Clan, the Ascension Chambers were void-lit tunnels carved into the crust of space itself. No sunlight reached here. Only the ceaseless pull of astral gravity orbs, each calibrated to crush even adult cultivators at the Constellation Lord stage.
Kael, at the tiny age of four, trained under a hundred times the normal weight of gravity. Each movement burned, every breath he took scraped his lungs raw. Blood seeped from his pores before healing under regenerative spells layered around him. But still, he stood and walked and trained.
He memorized celestial calligraphy under starlight flame.
He forged crude spatial talismans using shattered relic dust.
He sparred with construct puppets programmed to mimic the techniques of peak cultivators.
He failed a lot but he never stopped.
You are a Vorian, his mother told him once. You do not bend my love, you bend time she said in a joking manner.
Kael didn't laugh. Even as a child, he understood the cost of who he was.
At six, the official age of cultivation for children in Astralis. Kael underwent a soul-woven specialization.
His affinity stars, now ten in number and including one from the Eighth Astral Layer, granted him accelerated pathways through:
Alchemy, where he synthesized spatially infused elixirs that aged ingredients within his inner world faster than anywhere else on the plane.
Weapon Forging, where he learned to anchor dimensional rifts into blade cores thereby allowing the swords to cut across reality itself.
Talisman Crafting, where his unique spiritual signature allowed for the binding of minor time reversal glyphs.
He studied for sixteen hours in his inner-world every day. But outside, only three hours had passed.
His miniature world's faster temporal rate was both a blessing… and a cage. The clan was determined to squeeze out all of his potential and more if possible.
Meanwhile at Elarion Peaks
Atop a floating lightning-borne cliff, a boy of fourteen stood, his chest rising and falling with each harsh, cold breath. Blood trailed down his arms in rivers. Scorched marks covered his black martial robes, now torn and smoldering.
The serpent's fangs had pierced near his heart, and the thunderstorm conjured by his own aura was still raging overhead.
Valen Castiel Vaelstrom did not flinch or falter.
With a low growl, he reversed his grip on the blood-crusted spear and threw it directly into the storm beast's gaping mouth. The serpent, a spectral beast made of dark wind and lightning screamed and died instantly.
Lightning crackled in a coiled serpent behind Valen as he collapsed to one knee.
Far behind him, cloaked observers in sky-colored robes whispered.
He's still alive…
Just how many times has he escaped death this month?
My heart has been palpitating, it's too scary. Are we raising a monster?
No one answered because they all knew the truth.
To surpass Kael Aric Vorian, a child born with aether and cosmic favor… Valen had to be carved by pain, and forged in the abyss. He needed to be more, do more, sacrifice more. The clan had no choice, it was either this or be stepped on by the Vorian clan. Kael was too much of a monster to not take measures against.
Vorian Estate : Nightfall
Kael sat in his meditation chamber, cross-legged, his childlike face pale with exertion. Star essence whirled around him in complex orbits, entering through his breath, his skin, his soul. A shimmering spiral hourglass floated above his palm, his clan mark resonating softly with each breath.
Six years old, whispered Elder Nivor, watching from afar, and his star essence pool exceeds most mid-tier Nebula Weavers.
Kael didn't hear him. He was within his inner world.
A new mountain had just broken through the crust of his mini-realm. He watched the moonlight glint off it, then raised a hand, and the skies reversed. The mountain unformed, the stone folding in on itself.
The time reversal had lasted ten seconds.
He gasped that was new and a bit terrifying.
I could bring something back, he thought. Or undo something… or someone…
He stared at his hand.
And for the first time in years, Kael felt afraid of his abilities.