Chapter 56: Baby Chaos and Royal Mayhem
Kael, the newly born Flame-Tide Heir of Pyranthos and possibly the most powerful divine infant the realms had ever known, had only been breathing for six hours and forty-three minutes.
And already, the castle staff was in open revolt.
In the golden halls of Pyranthos, where celestial chandeliers once swayed gracefully above velvet carpets, a trail of burnt curtains, warped brass doorknobs, and a mysteriously levitating crib had replaced decorum. Courtiers whispered in panic. Nursemaids wore armor. And the head steward—Sir Halberd the Unflappable—was weeping softly into a wine jug behind the throne.
"Why is there lava in the soup pot?" someone screamed from the kitchens.
Valeria, radiant in her post-coronation gown and a shimmering red-gold cloak that would've impressed the Sun itself, ran into the nursery with a gust of wind and fire licking her heels.
"Kael!" she called. "Sweetheart, what did we say about combusting the bassinet?"
The cradle floated three feet above the ground, swirling with sparks. Baby Kael giggled, a chubby hand reaching out toward a terrified butterfly made of glowing ember-wings.
"He's summoning elemental lifeforms again," muttered Jaxon, stumbling in behind her with a scroll half-singed in his hand. "And possibly speaking in three forgotten tongues. I think I heard one in Old Aetheric?"
"He's a prodigy," Valeria said proudly.
"He's a fire hazard!" Jaxon shouted, ducking as a bolt of pure lightning arced from Kael's foot and singed the drapery.
Kael, oblivious to the chaos, clapped his hands, and suddenly time stuttered. The bells in the eastern tower chimed backwards, and a pot plant grew three years of leaves in three seconds.
The nanny—a once-brave warrior from the southern flame isles—had locked herself in the broom closet.
"I don't get paid enough to babysit a star baby," her muffled voice sobbed.
Later That Day...
The Council of Pyranthos had convened not for a war strategy, nor an economic debate, but a baby containment briefing.
"His bathwater boiled the marble tub," said Commander Edrion, holding up a melted duck toy. "And then evaporated it."
"He rearranged the constellations above the nursery. They now spell 'BABA' in celestial script," added High Oracle Themyra.
"He's learning," Valeria said, beaming. "Isn't it adorable?"
"Your Majesty, with all due respect," said Lord Talvar, sweating beneath his silk collar, "your son turned my wig into a phoenix."
Valeria tilted her head. "Looks better that way."
Even Jaxon was beginning to worry. Kael's powers were not just strong—they were unfiltered, spontaneous, and infused with divine chaos. While Pyranthos worshipped fire, Kael was fire. And tide. And time. And possibly mischief incarnate.
"Maybe we need a tutor," he muttered, half to himself.
"Oh yes," Valeria said with a smirk. "And where exactly do we find someone certified to teach an elemental god-infant who rewrites metaphysics in his sleep?"
Silence.
Meanwhile...
Kael had crawled out of the nursery—by teleporting—and was now seated atop the royal sundial, laughing as the shadows refused to point in any direction.
He squealed, and five clouds reshaped into dragons.
Below, a group of scholars were tracking him from behind columns.
"I believe he is dreaming while awake," whispered Scholar Priem.
"No," corrected High Seeress Maeli. "He is reality dreaming itself through him."
"I just saw him bite a ray of sunlight," someone whispered. "He bit it. And the sun flickered."
Back in the nursery, Valeria looked at Jaxon.
"We're not raising a baby," she said. "We're raising an unstable deity with the curiosity of a kitten and the moral compass of a spoon."
Jaxon sighed. "He gets it from your side."
Valeria smirked. "He has your hair."
Suddenly, Kael appeared between them, floating, giggling, eyes glowing like twin nebulae.
"Ma!" he chirped.
"Da!"
And then—everyone within five miles heard it—a sound like thunder laughing, like a thousand echoes of joy: Kael's first laugh.
And with it, reality stabilized… just for a moment. Time settled. The air became warm. Birds began singing again.
For now, the storm was quiet.
But in the sky above Pyranthos, a ripple passed.
Far away, in the Void between Realms, something stirred.
A second laugh—darker, fainter—responded.
And the Second Entity opened one eye.