Igniting A Flame {Kingdoms #1}

Thirty-Four

With a flicker of lightening and snap of thunder in the dead of night, the seventh god—among eight goddesses—was born into the family of Zeel. Most aspects of the child seemed unusual; unusual wisps of deep brown hair, unusually bright grey eyes, unusually small. The previous children bore locks of void black and midnight blue eyes with a naturally brawny warrior's build. Each member of the godly family were a perfect mirror of one another.

And so, when Raidan Zeel, one of the mightiest gods to roam earth, beheld his newborn upon the ancient kingdom of Maragnus, the bustling crowd merely tilted their heads and stirred with conspiracies. 'Do you think her godliness may have had an affair? What a strange child,' some would say. 'Swapped at birth. It had to be!' others would proclaim. As Raidan and his distressed wife wandered back to the royal castle, tripping through sodden dirt and puddles of water, he decided the vigorous storm was a signal of warning from another higher power. The child must be cursed or punished or defected. Whatever the case, he was far too different.

Syn Zeel spent the first six years of his life among the servants, his parents scarcely revealing themselves to him. He giggled, jumping around the kitchen as a small lady carefully trailed him. Aie had been Syn's primary carer at the time, her love running deep and their bond strengthening with each passing year. Aie had taught him the vital basics of cooking and housework, stating that a misunderstood boy like him might require such skills one day. At the time, Syn struggled to understand what she meant.

Tiel, one of the many older sisters of Syn, stomped into the kitchen with her usual brutish prowl and stone cold scowl. Syn had always been so intrigued with her tough beauty, her height much taller than his own and her fully formed figure. The most striking part of her had been the ruthless muscle peeking from her arms and legs. Syn swooned at the sight every time, wondering if his feeble body would ever be just as brawny. Tiel pushed past Syn, shooting him the usual glance of contempt and disgust. His heart thundered each time he saw that expression, something about the piercing glare just so upsetting. He never had much chance to speak with his siblings, only ever receiving grunts or fragmented speech.

"Aie," Syn murmured, watching Tiel stride from the kitchen archway with meat skewer in hand, "Why do I never see my siblings working in the kitchen?"

Aie paused, the water in the sink lapping on the counter as the dishes clinked together. She looked over her shoulder, tentatively smiling with that calming warmth. Would his real mother ever express such a tender grin towards him? "Oh, my dear Syn," she hummed, twisting her body and scooping the small boy into her arms, "Your siblings have much different duties to attend to."

"Like what?"

"Training, learning combat strategies, fighting. Things not fit for," she pursed her lips, contemplating the next words, "Not for someone like you." A flash of disappointment crossed her glittering ocean eyes.

Syn leaned his head against her chest, staring at the ground and contemplating Aie's words. For a while, he noticed the difference in his appearance and his siblings. Perhaps his gaunt body was not enough to claim himself a warrior like Tiel. He sniffled, tears swelling in his eyes. Is this why his parents rarely saw him? Did they even love him?

During the passing years, up until Syn's thirteenth birthday, he finally understood his position in the royal family. He was nothing but a mere outsider, too different to reside among the other blessed children with their flourishing magic and skilled combat. His body hadn't grown into the tough, muscular build of his siblings but rather remained macilent.