THE WORTHLESS SON
1341 Words
The first thing Kael heard that morning
was laughter.
It rolled across the training courtyard
beneath the pale morning sun, loud
enough to reach every corner of the clan
compound.
And every laugh seemed to carry his name.
"Look at him."
"That's the former clan head's son?"
"I heard he's seventeen already."
"Seventeen and still hasn't awakened
spiritual energy."
Someone snorted.
"At this rate, even a servant's child will
surpass him."
Kael kept his eyes on the wooden sword in his hand.
His fingers tightened around the worn handle until his knuckles turned pale.
The training yard smelled of sweat, dust, and freshly cut wood. Dozens of young cultivators stood around the practice grounds, some watching openly, others whispering behind their hands.
Kael had grown used to it.
At least, that was what he told himself.
At seventeen, most members of the younger generation had already entered the path of cultivation. Some had reached the third stage of Body Tempering. The more talented ones were preparing to awaken their spiritual cores.
Kael had nothing.
No spiritual energy.
No cultivation.
No talent.
Even his body seemed determined to remind him of it.
His shoulders were narrow, his arms thin, and a faint scar crossed his left forearm from an accident when he was younger.
He looked like someone who had never belonged in a cultivation clan.
"Kael."
The instructor's voice silenced the courtyard.
The old man's expression was neither cruel nor sympathetic.
Somehow, that was worse.
"Come forward."
Kael stepped onto the training platform.
His boots scraped against the stone.
At the center stood a smooth, transparent pillar nearly twice his height.
The Spiritual Awakening Stone.
Every child in the clan eventually placed a hand upon it.
For ordinary cultivators, the stone would glow with a color corresponding to their spiritual affinity.
The brighter the light, the greater their potential.
Kael had stood before it six times.
Six failures.
Today would be his seventh.
He walked toward it.
The laughter had stopped.
Everyone was watching.
Kael placed his palm against the cold surface.
For a moment, he closed his eyes.
Please.
He didn't know who he was praying to.
The heavens?
His ancestors?
Perhaps even the gods his mother had once told him about.
Just once.
Give me something.
He waited.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Three.
The stone remained cold.
Lifeless.
Unmoved.
Someone laughed.
Then another.
Within seconds, the courtyard erupted.
Kael slowly opened his eyes.
The instructor sighed.
"Remove your hand."
Kael obeyed.
"Perhaps the stone is broken," a boy shouted from the crowd.
"No," another replied. "It worked perfectly for everyone else."
More laughter.
Kael stared at the ground.
The instructor rubbed his forehead.
"Kael, you've attempted awakening every year since you were twelve."
"I know."
"And every year, the result is the same."
Kael said nothing.
The old man looked at him for several seconds.
"Perhaps you should stop."
Kael's eyes lifted.
"Stop what?"
"Trying."
The word struck harder than any insult.
The instructor's voice softened.
"You're not a bad child, Kael. But cultivation requires talent. The clan cannot continue wasting resources on someone whose body refuses to respond."
A few people snickered.
Kael lowered his gaze again.
"I understand."
The instructor nodded.
"Good."
Kael stepped away from the stone.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to turn around and tell every person laughing that one day they would kneel before him.
But what could he say?
Promises were cheap.
Especially from someone who couldn't even make a stone glow.
A familiar voice suddenly cut through the crowd.
"Kael."
He looked up.
Lina stood beneath an old willow tree at the edge of the training ground.
She was holding two small cups of tea, one in each hand.
Unlike everyone else, she wasn't laughing.
Her dark hair moved gently in the morning breeze, and there was a faint crease between her eyebrows.
Concern.
Not pity.
Kael noticed the difference immediately.
She walked toward him.
"Are you hurt?"
He glanced at the stone.
"Only my pride."
Lina smiled.
"So it's still alive?"
Kael couldn't help himself.
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Unfortunately."
She handed him one of the cups.
"I stole this from the kitchen."
Kael raised an eyebrow.
"You stole it?"
"I prefer the word borrowed."
"Without asking?"
"Exactly."
For a moment, Kael forgot about the people around him.
Then a voice interrupted.
"How touching."
The smile disappeared from Kael's face.
Riven approached from the other side of the courtyard.
He was eighteen, tall, well-built, and dressed in the crimson robes of the clan's main branch.
Unlike Kael, Riven had awakened spiritual energy at the age of ten.
He was currently one of the most promising young cultivators in the clan.
He stopped a few steps away.
His smile was pleasant.
Almost friendly.
But his eyes weren't.
Riven didn't hate Kael.
Kael wasn't important enough to hate.
He simply enjoyed having someone beneath him.
And Kael had always been an easy target.
"Perhaps," Riven said, looking at Lina, "you should stop wasting your time with him."
Lina's expression hardened.
"That's none of your concern."
Riven chuckled.
"I was only trying to help."
He turned toward Kael.
"Although I suppose I understand why you need someone to defend you."
Kael said nothing.
Riven stepped closer.
"Tell me, Kael. After seven failures, do you still believe you'll become a cultivator?"
Silence.
Kael looked directly into his eyes.
"I don't know."
Riven's smile widened.
"At least you're honest."
He walked past him, deliberately knocking his shoulder against Kael's.
Kael stumbled.
The tea spilled across the ground.
Lina immediately stepped forward.
"Riven!"
Riven stopped.
He glanced back.
"What?"
"You did that deliberately."
His smile disappeared for half a second.
Then returned.
"If he can't even stand properly, perhaps he shouldn't be standing in the training yard."
A few people laughed.
Kael stared at the spilled tea.
His hand trembled.
Not from fear.
From anger.
He wanted to hit Riven.
Every part of him wanted to.
But he knew exactly what would happen.
Riven would block his attack with one hand.
Then Kael would become the joke of the clan for another year.
So he swallowed his anger.
Again.
Just as he had done every other time.
Riven walked away.
Lina crouched and picked up the empty cup.
"Don't listen to him."
Kael didn't answer.
She looked at him.
"Kael."
"I'm fine."
"You always say that."
He finally looked at her.
"And what would you like me to say?"
Lina hesitated.
"That you're angry."
Kael gave a humorless smile.
"I'm angry."
"Good."
"Why is that good?"
"Because at least you're feeling something."
She stood.
"Just don't let them decide who you become."
Kael stared at her.
For a moment, he wanted to believe her.
But then he looked toward the Spiritual Awakening Stone.
Cold.
Silent.
Unmoved.
The symbol of everything he wasn't.
That night, Kael sat alone beside his bedroom window.
The clan had gone quiet.
Moonlight spilled across the floor.
He stared at his hands.
They were ordinary hands.
Weak hands.
Hands that couldn't protect anyone.
He thought about Riven.
The instructor.
The laughter.
Then Lina's words returned to him.
Don't let them decide who you become.
Kael slowly clenched his fist.
For seventeen years, he had believed strength was something a person was simply born with.
Perhaps he had been wrong.
Maybe strength belonged to those willing to do what others wouldn't.
His eyes slowly darkened.
He looked toward the distant mountains beyond the clan walls.
There was a world out there.
A world that didn't know his name.
A world that didn't care that he was the former clan head's worthless son.
Perhaps that was exactly where he needed to go.
Kael stood.
He packed a small cloth bag.
A change of clothes.
A little food.
His knife.
Nothing else.
He paused at the door.
For one last moment, he looked back at the room that had been his home for seventeen years.
Then he whispered:
"Goodbye."
He stepped into the darkness.
And that night, Kael disappeared from
the clan.
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