C05-R08-3448 A.E. — Evening
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Sera sat cross-legged on the living room rug, her brows furrowed in concentration as she pulled shiny new markers and notebooks from her bag. The dim gold lighting from the ceiling panels glowed across her face, and Kael couldn't help but smile as she whispered the word “mechanical pencil” with the same reverence others reserved for divine relics.
Elira wiped down the kitchen counter, humming a fragment of that cursed Ascension song that had followed them all day. Kael leaned against the frame of the doorway between the kitchen and living space, arms crossed.
"Mom," he said softly.
She looked up, smile fading as she caught the weight in his tone.
"Can I talk to you?"
She dried her hands and followed him into the short hallway just past the bathroom. It wasn't much for privacy, but it was enough for now.
Kael didn’t speak immediately. He stared down the hallway, then finally asked, “Did Dad ever… say anythin' to you about a trait?”
Elira blinked. “A trait?”
“Yeah. Not like a personality trait or gene. I mean—like, somethin' different. Somethin' deeper than a talent. Somethin'... no one else seems to know about.”
She frowned, folding her arms. “Where is this coming from, Kael?”
“I looked up ‘trait’ in the library while you were registering Sera. I found nothin' useful. Except…” His voice trailed off before picking up again. “I came across an article—some conspiracy theory saying the Voren family has some kind of secret ability that lets them outdo people way above their rank. They called it a trait. They said the family founder called it that. I didn’t even know we were part of the Voren family until today.”
Elira’s shoulders tensed, but she didn’t say anything. Kael pressed on.
“Did Dad ever talk about any of that? What happened with his family after he disappeared?”
She sighed and leaned against the wall. “He never talked much about them. Said they were suffocating. Controlling. But… no, Kael. He never said anything about a trait. At least, not with those words. I only ever heard about his talent.”
“And what about when I went to get retested?”
“You mean two days ago—the day of the beast rampage?” Elira rubbed her temples. “I meant to ask… but things happened so fast. You said it evolved, and then suddenly you bought us a new home inside the walls. I just assumed… you know, it did evolve.”
Kael shook his head. “That’s the thing. The registrar said it didn’t evolve. Not officially, anyway. But somethin' definitely changed. Somethin’s wrong. Or different.”
Elira tilted her head. “How so?”
Kael looked her in the eye. “I killed the predabeast.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“I killed it. With my mouth. I ate it alive. Whole.”
She stared, stunned into silence.
“I’m serious, Mom. It didn’t make sense to me either. I bit it out of desperation—and my talent did the rest. It devoured the whole thing. And I was… dying, before that. Spine shattered. Arm gone. And then… I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to think about me in that condition...”
He let the silence stretch, waiting for it to fill in the pieces.
“You had an E-rank talent,” Elira whispered. “That shouldn’t be possible.”
Kael nodded. “I know.”
Elira’s eyes drifted, distant. “Tharan was like that too. Always… more than his rank. More than anyone expected. He had an A-rank artificing talent, but his work was leagues above people with S-ranks. The things he made—they weren’t just machines. They sang. Even before he had awakened. He was obsessed. Obsessed with perfecting something no one else could even imagine.”
Kael nodded slowly. “You think it’s because of that trait thing?”
“I don’t know,” Elira said, her voice hollow with uncertainty. “But the Voren family is known for that kind of… inexplicable excellence. They’re not exactly front-page celebrities, but among the elite? People whisper. Tharan was always treated with more respect than his rank warranted.”
“Then why did they cut you off?” Kael asked, his tone hardening. “If they’re so special, why leave you to rot in Brinewatch?”
Elira exhaled, eyes softening. “After your father disappeared, they stopped answering my calls. My messages. It was like I never existed. Maybe they blamed me. Or maybe they just didn’t want to deal with a sick, talent-broken outsider.”
She paused.
“But I can reach out to a few people I used to know. See if anyone still responds. I don’t expect anything—but I’ll try.”
Kael looked away. He wanted to turn down her offer and say “No, fuck them,” but he couldn't bring himself to do it. “Thanks.”
Elira touched his arm. “You deserve answers.”
He gave her a nod—quiet, not quite trusting himself to speak. Then they turned back toward the living room, where Sera was still arranging her pencils in color order like it was the most important thing in the world.
