Morning arrived beneath a sky of dull gray clouds.
For the first time since his awakening, Leon was allowed to leave his room. At least, technically. Several layers of cloth had been wrapped around his forehead to conceal the crystal. The larger problem remained his eyes—golden eyes were not something people simply ignored, especially not after a city had barely survived annihilation. Rumors spread quickly. Fear spread faster.
Fortunately, Leon possessed a solution. His eyes remained closed. Completely closed. At first Raymond had questioned whether that was wise. Then Leon demonstrated that he could walk across his room, avoid every obstacle, and identify objects without opening his eyes even once. The discussion ended immediately.
Now the two brothers walked side by side through the castle courtyard. Servants stepped aside. Soldiers saluted. No one questioned why the younger lord moved with his eyes shut—most assumed it was some strange noble training method, and a few guessed he was pursuing some form of warrior discipline. The truth was considerably stranger.
Even with his eyes closed, Leon could still see. Not through his normal sight. Through something else. The world remained visible behind his eyelids—walls, people, buildings, everything around him appearing with startling clarity. After a few minutes of practice he had discovered he could navigate almost as easily with his eyes closed as he could with them open. The only difference was restraint.
Yesterday's experiments had taught him an important lesson. His power consumed something—energy, focus, perhaps both. The more he pushed it, the greater the strain became, and the headache that followed had been painful enough to discourage further recklessness. As a result, Leon kept his ability suppressed, using only a fraction of what his eyes were capable of—just enough to perceive his surroundings, just enough to walk normally. Anything more felt unnecessary. At least for now.
"Still working?" Raymond asked.
Leon nodded. "So far."
"You look ridiculous."
Leon snorted. "Thanks."
"Just being honest."
For the first time in days the conversation felt normal. No Anomalies, no invasions, no mysterious crystals. Just brothers. Unfortunately, reality soon returned.
The moment they left the castle district, Leon noticed the difference. Yesterday people had been preparing to leave. Today they were preparing to stay. Wagons stood abandoned beside roads. Crates once packed for evacuation were being unloaded. Workers carried timber toward damaged walls. Blacksmiths hammered steel. Laborers hauled stone. Everywhere people worked—not because they believed victory was guaranteed, but because they no longer had another option. The roads were blocked. The city was trapped. Everyone knew it.
The atmosphere felt heavier, yet somehow more focused. The panic was gone and only determination remained. Nobody spoke much, nobody smiled, but they worked. Because survival demanded it.
Leon watched silently. The reports from yesterday suddenly felt real. The city wasn't preparing to flee anymore. It was preparing to endure.
"Thinking too much again." Raymond's voice interrupted him.
Leon sighed. "Maybe." This story is hosted at g.com.
"Stop it."
Easy for Raymond to say. The man fought problems with swords. Leon fought them with thoughts.
Eventually the stable district appeared. The smell hit first—hay, leather, animal feed, manure. Unlike yesterday the area had calmed considerably. Many wagons previously prepared for evacuation were being repurposed for food, building supplies, and medical equipment. Everything was being reorganized. The city had accepted its fate. They would either survive together, or die together.
"Ready?" Raymond asked.
Leon nodded. "I think so."
The moment they entered the stables, a familiar warmth stirred between his brows. Subtle. Gentle. Recognition. His steps slowed as the sensation vanished, then returned. His heartbeat quickened. He knew that feeling. Yesterday. The mares. The crystal had reacted.
"There," Leon murmured.
Raymond immediately noticed. "You found one?"
"I think so."
The warmth lingered, encouraging him, calling his attention forward. A brown mare stood calmly within one of the stalls, and the moment Leon focused on her the sensation strengthened—not dramatically, just enough. Like a distant voice trying to get his attention.
Carefully he approached. The mare remained calm, almost unusually so, as though she sensed no threat. Leon stopped beside the stall as the warmth intensified.
"What happens if you touch her?" Raymond asked quietly.
Leon swallowed. "I don't know." For several seconds he hesitated, then slowly reached forward. His fingers brushed the mare's neck.
And the world disappeared.
The stable vanished. The sounds vanished. Reality blurred.
A vision unfolded before him. The mare appeared first, standing alone within an endless white void. Then something strange happened—the warmth between his brows intensified and a golden thread appeared. Not connected to the mare herself, but connected to something inside her. Leon froze, his eyes widening. The thread led downward, toward her stomach, toward the unborn foal she carried.
Then the vision changed. The unborn foal appeared before him, a small form made entirely of golden light. Possibility itself. And suddenly that single image split apart—two paths, then three, then five, then dozens. Countless possibilities unfolded before him, different futures, different evolutions, different destinies. One became a sleek silver creature whose hooves never touched the ground. Another grew larger than any warhorse, its body resembling living steel. Another developed strange patterns of glowing blue light across its coat. Another possessed the ability to run faster than the wind itself. Each possibility felt distinct, real, reachable—yet not equally so. Some paths glowed brightly, stable and natural. Others appeared dim, distant, difficult.
One path in particular drew his attention. A magnificent creature surrounded by storms, wings of wind stretched from its body, its speed seeming capable of crossing entire kingdoms. The moment Leon focused on it, pain shot through the vision. Warning. Instinct. Not yet. The image immediately became unstable, cracks spreading through it before it shattered completely. Leon recoiled. The message felt unmistakable—that path demanded more than he possessed. Perhaps attempting it now would harm the unborn foal. Perhaps worse.
The vision shifted again, returning to safer possibilities, simpler possibilities, choices he could actually make. Leon stared, heart racing. Every path represented a future. And somehow he felt he could choose one. The realization sent chills through him.
Then the vision ended.
Reality returned. The stable reappeared and the mare stood exactly where she had been moments earlier—unchanged, normal. Leon staggered and Raymond immediately grabbed his shoulder.
"What happened?"
For several moments Leon couldn't answer, staring at the mare and trying to process what he had seen.
"What happened?" Raymond repeated.
Leon swallowed. "It wasn't the mare." Raymond frowned. "The crystal." Leon pointed weakly toward his forehead. "It wasn't reacting to the mare." His voice shook slightly. "It was reacting to the foal."
A long silence followed. "The foal?" Raymond repeated.
Leon nodded. "The unborn child." He took a deep breath. "And I think..." His eyes widened slightly as he said it aloud. "I think I can change what it's going to become."
Silence. Complete silence. Even Raymond looked momentarily speechless.
Leon barely noticed. Because his thoughts were racing—the horses, the mares, the strange warmth, the visions. Suddenly everything fit together, and for the first time since awakening he wasn't looking at a mystery anymore.
He was looking at a power. A terrifying one. A power capable of changing the future before it was even born.