Celestial Emperor of Shadow

When a Child Speaks of the Sky

"Mother," Victor said, slowly, deliberately, "listen to me first."

The words slipped out calm, but the weight behind them made the air shift. Anna reacted instantly—like someone had reached inside her and flipped a switch. Her whole body stilled, her shoulders easing as if bracing for something sacred. Every bit of her attention narrowed to him alone. Her eyes softened, warm and steady, as though the rest of the world had fallen away and only her son existed.

"Yes, son," she breathed out, gentle and absolute. "Always. Tell me anything you want me to hear."

Victor drew in a slow breath, deep enough to steady the storm inside him. His pulse thudded against his ribs, hot and insistent. His palms felt warm, almost trembling, as years of unspoken thoughts and two lifetimes of pressure gathered behind a single moment. He met her gaze and didn't look away.

"Mother… what would you do," he asked, his voice low and carrying an edge of something raw, "if someday I become stronger than anyone? Stronger than the sky itself. If no one can reach me—if I stand at the very top?"

Anna's expression faltered. Just for a heartbeat, she froze.

Ben blinked once, caught off guard by the sheer certainty in Victor's tone.

Both parents stared at him, stunned, as if the floor had tilted beneath them and they were trying to understand the new shape of their son.

Anna recovered first. A quiet smile softened her lips. She reached out, brushing her thumb across his cheek with the kind of tenderness that almost undid him.

"If you reach that height, my son," she murmured, "your mother would be happier than anyone in this world."

Victor nodded faintly.

"I know, Mother. But listen—truly listen."

Anna's brows lifted slightly, sensing something deeper woven into his tone.

He continued, steady now, his voice carrying weight beyond his age.

"Do you really think I can reach that level if I stay here?"

Ben inhaled sharply, the sound harsh in the stillness.

Anna tilted her head, slightly thrown. "Victor, what are you—?"

"Mother," he pressed, "look around. This kingdom, this region… this Rim. It's a small place. Too small. If I want to reach the height you just spoke of, how can I accomplish it here? Staying here will only stop me."

A quiet tremor went through her expression—one he caught instantly. She hadn't expected that angle. She hadn't expected him to see that far ahead.

He stepped closer.

"I don't know what your concerns are. Not yet. But you know this world. You know how vast it truly is. I don't want to be a frog trapped in a well. I want to explore everything outside."

Anna's lips parted slightly, surprise flickering again.

He kept going, because if he stopped now he'd never say it right.

"And most importantly… I want to find something. Something that can let you, Father, and little Ania stay with me for a long, long time."

Ben's eyes widened. Anna's breath hitched.

"If we stay here," Victor said quietly, "you'll grow old. You'll be gone. And I…" His voice cracked the tiniest bit—just enough for Anna to catch it. "I don't want that."

He swallowed hard.

"I want a life where none of us disappear. I want the power to protect that."

He breathed again, shoulders tight.

"This kingdom won't give me that. This place won't let me reach that height."

Anna stared at him, her expression a tangled storm of pride, fear, disbelief, and a mother's instinctive refusal to let go.

"Victor…" she whispered.

He wasn't done.

"I want to go out. I want to grow. I want to challenge the world. I want to reach the peak where no one can touch my family ever again. Can you… can you allow me that?"

The room went so quiet that even the soft flicker of the candles sounded loud.

Anna's lashes trembled.

Then she exhaled slowly, almost inaudibly.

"You're too small," she said, voice gentle but firm. "When you're an adult, we can talk. But for now… forget this." Her tone sharpened—not with anger, but with fear. "Forget these things. You are still my little child."

Victor felt the words hit like a soft punch. Not cruel. Just final.

He tried again, gently but with determination.

"Mother—"

"No," Anna said, this time harder. "I won't let you step into danger. I won't—"

He flinched at the edge in her voice.

Ben rubbed his forehead, pacing a little in frustration, because he saw exactly what Victor was trying to do and exactly why Anna wouldn't budge.

Victor's heart tightened. He stepped forward again, voice softer now, almost pleading.

"Mother… please."

"I said no."

This time it wasn't just a wall—it was iron.

Victor swallowed. His eyes lowered for a moment, then lifted back up, carrying a quiet storm. He was trying—truly trying—to bridge the gap. To explain. To connect.

But she wasn't ready to hear it.

Ben finally stopped pacing and faced his wife, the tension in his shoulders pulling him still.

"Anna," he said quietly, the sound almost swallowed by the room.

She didn't answer. Her attention clung to Victor, every muscle in her body tight, fear trembling under the surface of her calm expression. She looked like a woman bracing for a storm she couldn't see but knew was coming.

Ben tried again, firmer this time.

"Anna. Wait."

She let out a sharp breath, annoyance flickering across her face as she turned toward him—ready to snap, ready to argue.

But the second her gaze met his, everything inside her halted.

Ben's blue eyes had changed.

No warmth, no soft edges—just a steady, grounded seriousness that he almost never allowed anyone to see. A weight that made the air thicken around them.

"Anna," he said again, slow and unmovable.

Her lips parted, breath catching in her throat.

Victor watched them both, pulse quickening, feeling the strange electricity spreading through the room as if something important had just shifted—something that couldn't be undone.

And then—

Ben's eyes sharpened completely.