《Little Tyrant On The Loose》


 Caelum Ashenbane

    The first thing I remember was warmth.


    A soothing ,all-encompassing warmth that wrapped around me like a soft blanket.


    Even as my eyes fluttered open, the world was just a blur of lights and colour.


    Shapes moved gently in the distance.


    I didn''t know much¡ªI mean, What does the baby know anyway?


    But¡ª!


    I knew this: everything around me felt.. safe.


    The ceiling above shimmered faintly.


    Gold accents caught the soft light pouring through tall, arched windows.


    Curtains danced lazily in the breeze.


    The air carried the faintest hint of flowers I couldn''t name.


    ''Pretty.'' I thought.


    Whatever that meant.


    A deep, steady voice rumbled nearby.


    It was gentle.


    Soothing...


    I didn''t understand the words, but I didn''t need to.


    The voice belonged to the figure cradling me.


    A man with dark hair and piercing golden eyes that seemed to shine even in the softest light.


    He smiled at me.


    A small,warm smile that made me giggle instinctively.


    "Comfortable, aren''t you, Caelum?"


    His voice was soft.


    His words didn''t make sense to me yet, but the feeling behind them did.


    He was my everything.


    The world could''ve ended outside those walls, and I wouldn''t have cared.


    But as he gently rocked me, his gaze flickered toward the window.


    Just for a moment..


    And in that same instant, every figure in the room did the same.


    It was as if they all sensed it simultaneously, their movements unnervingly precise, their focus razor-sharp.


    His smile didn''t fade.


    But there was something in his eyes.


    Something heavy.


    The kind of weight I didn''t understand, couldn''t possibly grasp, but felt all the same.


    But I couldn''t think about it anymore as a wave of sleepiness hit me.


    My eyes started feeling heavy.


    Then, just like that, I slept.


    ***


    Magnus Ashenbane''s smile lingered as he stared out the window.


    The light streaming through framed him in gold, but his gaze was sharp, piercing the tranquil scene beyond.


    "Looks like we have a rat."


    His tone was low, cutting through the stillness like a blade.


    The warmth in his expression faded.


    What remained was cold and calculating.


    His golden eyes hardened, their shine now like molten metal ready to burn through anything in its path.


    The room felt heavier.


    Even the faint breeze seemed to halt, as if bowing to his presence.


    "Bold. But foolish."


    His fingers tapped against the edge of the cradle, the only movement breaking his statue-like stillness.


    Without looking, his voice cut through the air again.


    "Handle it. Quietly."


    From the shadows, a figure stepped forward.


    They bowed deeply, their face hidden beneath a hood.


    "Yes, my lord."


    No other words were exchanged.


    Magnus''s gaze remained fixed on the window, unflinching.


    The figure disappeared without a sound, leaving behind nothing but silence.


    Magnus''s hand moved to adjust the blanket around the sleeping child.


    His touch was gentle, but his expression did not soften.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    For a moment, he simply watched the child breathe, his face unreadable.


    And then his voice, soft but resolute, broke the quiet once more.


    "No one disturbs this family."


    The words lingered, heavy and final, as the room fell into an unsettling calm.


    ***


    "ARGHHHHHHHHHHH!!"


    The scream echoed through the dark prison cell.


    Chains rattled as the prisoner writhed on the cold, bloodstained floor.


    "P-please¡­ spare me¡­ I''m sorry¡­"


    His voice cracked, shaking with fear, each word a desperate plea.


    Blood dripped from open wounds, forming small puddles on the ground.


    Drip. Drip.


    The sound was the only thing breaking the heavy silence.


    Edward stood at the edge of the cell, calm and composed.


    His black suit was spotless, his silver hair neat, as if he didn''t belong in a place like this.


    In one hand, he held a stack of papers, flipping through them slowly.


    Behind him, another figure waited silently, standing at attention.


    "Are you sure he''s part of that organization?" Edward asked, his voice calm and steady.


    "Yes, Sir Edward," came the reply. "He infiltrated the manor disguised as a servant, collecting information about the estate''s layout and the young master''s nursery."


    Edward looked up from the papers, his cold eyes scanning the trembling figure on the floor.


    "Interesting." he said softly.


    The prisoner froze, his bloodshot eyes wide with terror.


    "P-please¡­ I told you everything¡­"


    Edward tilted his head slightly.


    "You told me what you think I want to hear."


    His words were quiet but carried a weight that made the prisoner flinch.


    Drip. Drip.


    The prisoner''s body shook violently, his breath shallow and ragged.


    Edward glanced back at the papers, letting out a quiet sigh.


    "Still, daring to spy on us."


    He closed the file with a quiet snap.


    "The Patriarch won''t be pleased."


    The words were final.


    Edward''s companion stepped forward, their shadow looming over the prisoner.


    The prisoner tried to move back, the chains dragging loudly against the floor.


    "No¡ªwait! Please! I''ll do anything! I''m sorry! I''ll¡ª!"


    Slash!


    His cries stopped abruptly.


    A single strike.


    The sound of metal cutting flesh echoed briefly before silence took over.


    Edward adjusted his cuffs, his expression unchanging.


    Before turning to leave, his voice cut through the air, cold and merciless.


    "Inform the manor. All servants will undergo a trial. If there''s even a shadow of doubt about their loyalty..."


    He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.


    "...they are to be removed from existence."


    Edward walked out of the cell, his footsteps echoing down the stone corridor.


    "Clean this up," he said calmly.


    Drip. Drip.


    The cell fell silent once again.


    Returning from the prison, Edward went directly to Ashenveil Manor, the seat of the Ashenbane family.


    The grand hall loomed before him, its towering arches casting long shadows across the polished marble floor.


    Edward stepped inside, his footsteps quiet but deliberate.


    Reaching the center of the hall, he dropped to one knee, lowering his head until it nearly touched the ground.


    One fist rested over his heart, his knuckles taut with reverence.


    "My lord."


    "Your loyal retainer humbly presents himself before the might of House Ashenbane."


    He paused, inclining his head slightly in a gesture of deep respect.


    "May your reign cast its shadow across all lands, for none can stand against your will."


    The silence stretched for a moment, thick and heavy.


    Sitting on a black throne, Magnus Ashenbane watched him.


    His black hair fell in loose waves, framing piercing yellow eyes that seemed to strip away all pretense, seeing straight into a man''s soul.


    He wore dark armor that gleamed faintly in the dim light, the intricate designs carved into it.


    Resting his head lazily against one fist, Magnus appeared almost bored.


    Yet his presence was overwhelming, filling the hall like a storm waiting to break.


    "Speak." Magnus commanded.


    His voice was low and hoarse, carrying an edge that made the air feel colder.


    Edward lifted his head slightly, just enough to meet his lord''s gaze.


    "My lord." he began, his tone unwavering.


    "The man belonged to the Black Thorn Society, an assassin''s guild operating out of the Kingdom of Veyland."


    Magnus''s eyes narrowed.


    The faint golden glow in his irises intensified, casting an eerie light that seemed to pierce the shadows around him.


    "They dare¡­"


    His words were quiet, almost a whisper, yet they carried across the vast hall like thunder.


    "To send their filth into my domain."


    The temperature in the room seemed to drop further, the atmosphere growing heavier.


    Edward remained still, but even he could feel the weight pressing down, as if the very air had turned against him.


    Magnus leaned forward, his gaze locked onto Edward.


    "Have they forgotten who we are?"


    The glow in his eyes grew brighter, sharper, and the entire estate seemed to tremble.


    From the furthest corners of the manor, servants stopped what they were doing, their breaths catching in their throats.


    Even the walls seemed to groan under the pressure of his power.


    "No." Magnus said, his voice a deadly calm.


    "They haven''t forgotten. They simply believe themselves untouchable."


    He rose from his throne, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the kneeling Edward.


    "They think they can look down on us."


    The faint hum of power radiated from him, his presence now felt suffocating.


    "We''ll remind them."


    Magnus stepped down from the throne, the sound of his boots echoing across the hall.


    "Edward."


    "Yes, my lord."


    "Erase Veyland."


    The words were spoken so casually, yet they carried the weight of an unshakable decree.


    "Wipe their kingdom from the face of this world."


    Edward bowed his head deeply.


    "As you command, my lord."


    Magnus turned his gaze back toward the throne, his eyes still glowing with unrestrained power.


    "Let the ashes of their kingdom serve as a reminder."


    His voice grew darker, more resolute.


    "This world bends to the Ashenbane family. And those who forget that¡­"


    The air in the hall was thick with the unspoken promise of annihilation.


    Edward rose smoothly, his movements as sharp as his lord''s commands.


    Without another word, he exited the hall, his steps echoing into the silence.


    Magnus stood alone, his piercing gaze fixed on nothing in particular.


    Yet, the weight of his presence lingered, pressing down on every corner of the estate.


    The storm had been unleashed.


    And the world would soon feel its wrath.


    ***


    Edward hovered above the kingdom, calm as chaos loomed below.


    With a flick of his wrist, the air seemed to shatter, sending invisible ripples that pressed against the land.


    The sky above Veyland darkened, as if the heavens themselves recoiled in fear.


    Rumble!!


    The ground beneath the capital city began to quake, low vibrations that quickly escalated into violent tremors.


    Craaaaack!!


    Edward extended a single finger, tracing a line in the air.


    A rift appeared, glowing with golden light.


    From it came a wave of power, tearing through the land and consuming everything in its path.


    Buildings crumbled into dust.


    Forests withered and burned.


    And the people¡­


    They vanished, their screams cut short as the light swept them away.


    The earth split open where the capital once stood, leaving behind a massive void¡ªa scar upon the world.


    When it was done, silence fell.


    The golden rift sealed itself, leaving no trace of what had occurred except the yawning chasm where a kingdom had once thrived.


    Edward remained motionless in the air, his gaze fixed on the devastation below.


    He brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve and said,


    "It is done."


    And then, without a sound, he disappeared, the faint shimmer of his teleportation the only trace he had ever been there.


    News of Veyland''s annihilation spread like wildfire.


    No one could believe it.


    An entire kingdom, erased in an instant.


    It wasn''t war.


    It wasn''t rebellion.


    It was obliteration.


    From rulers in grand halls to hidden factions in the shadows, the message was undeniable:


    The Ashenbane family had acted.


    And their wrath was absolute.


    Leaders retreated behind closed doors.


    Councils convened in fear.


    Ambitions crumbled.


    The crater was a graveyard of silence, its oppressive aura etching the memory of Veyland''s fall into the land


    Even the skies mourned, gray and unyielding for days.


    One name was whispered everywhere.


    ¡ªAshenbane.


    They weren''t just rulers in the shadows.


    They were gods among men.


    And gods do not forgive.

 The Tower of Doom

    Since the last event that shook the world, two years have passed.


    I am now two years old.


    Yeah. I know right.


    I am an adult now.


    I can do what I want.


    My jet-black hair falls messily over my eyes, but I don''t care.


    It looks cool.


    Besides, my golden eyes¡ªjust like my dad''s¡ªare way more interesting.


    So that''s why¡­


    I am gonna do the most important thing ever.


    The thing no one in this mansion can stop me from doing.


    The thing that will change EVERYTHING¡­


    "Sneak into the kitchen and steal a pantry!"


    I grinned like a villain from those bedtime stories and rubbed my hands together, the perfect image of a master schemer.


    Standing behind the kitchen door, I glanced left and right, my eyes darting across the corridor like I was on a top-secret mission.


    No one was there.


    "Perfect."


    With both hands, I grabbed the wooden stool that I had "borrowed" and pushed it toward the door.


    The legs scraped against the stone floor, letting out an awful grrrrrk.


    Shit.


    I froze.


    Silence.


    I strained my ears for any sound for a moment, but nothing came.


    "Close one."


    I let out a relieved sigh.


    I gave the stool one last shove, and it hit the door with a dull thunk.


    I gripped the edges of the stool and climbed up.


    My tiny legs wobbled as it creaked under my weight.


    "Hold steady."


    I whispered to the stool while squinting at the gleaming silver handle above me.


    It was the horizontal bar kind¡ªthe kind that needed to be pushed down.


    Sounds tough... but not to me!


    "One¡­ Two¡­ Three!"


    I jumped up and stretched my arms toward it, grabbing the handle with all my might.


    Putting my weight on it, I pushed down. The handle slid toward one side, giving way with a satisfying click.


    "Ha-ha!"


    The door creaked open.


    I hopped off the stool and peeked inside.


    The kitchen was massive, with tall counters that seemed to stretch endlessly.


    Pots and pans hung from hooks, gleaming like armor, while the faint smell of chocolate and vanilla floated through the air.


    Following the line of that sweet aroma, my eyes locked onto the cake sitting on the table in the center of the room.


    The glaze sparkled under the light, the swirls of frosting so perfect they almost looked fake.


    This is it.


    My promised land.


    I stepped inside, my tiny feet making barely a sound on the stone floor.


    The table was way taller than me.


    Like, Everest tall.


    I squinted at it, hands on my hips.


    "Okay, cake. You win this round..."


    "...or so you thought!"


    I cracked my knuckles, a determined grin spreading across my face.


    I scanned the room and spotted a small crate against the wall.


    Perfect.


    I dragged the crate over with a series of strained ooofs and plopped it down next to the table.


    Then I grabbed a couple of pots and balanced them on top of the crate. A pan came next.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Finally, I threw on the stool for good measure.


    I stepped back and looked at the masterpiece I made proudly.


    It wobbled slightly, but I know that this will easily hold.


    I climbed up carefully, each step making the tower creak.


    The pan shifted slightly under my foot.


    ''Don''t wobble. Don''t wobble.''


    I prayed silently while climbing.


    I reached the top.


    The mountain of pots, pans, and the crate swayed beneath me.


    "Steady... steady¡­"


    I whispered, clutching the stool like it was the edge of a cliff.


    The cake was so close I could smell the chocolatey goodness wafting toward me.


    One more stretch.


    I leaned forward, my fingers grazing the edge of the plate.


    Victory was within my grasp.


    "Gotcha!"


    But just as my fingertips curled around the cake stand¡­


    Creak.


    I froze.


    The tower wobbled.


    The pots clattered faintly.


    "Don''t you dare.."


    I hissed at the pan under my foot.


    The pan dared.


    It slipped.


    Everything slowed down.


    The crate tilted.


    The stool buckled.


    And me?


    I fell, arms flailing like a doomed hero in one of those epic stories.


    CRASH! BANG! CLANG!


    The sound was deafening, like the entire kitchen had declared war on itself.


    Pots and pans scattered everywhere.


    A ladle bounced off my head.


    I landed on my back, staring at the ceiling.


    The cake?


    Still on the table.


    It felt like it was mocking me with its perfect frosting.


    "Stupid cake.."


    I mumbled, dazed.


    Footsteps thundered down the corridor, growing louder by the second.


    Uh-oh.


    The door burst open, and a shadow loomed over me.


    "Young Master!!"


    Edward.


    Of course, it had to be him.


    His gaze swept over the mess before settling on me, the faint kitchen light catching his silver hair.


    His expression didn''t change, but the slight twitch of his eyebrow betrayed his disapproval.


    I scrambled to my feet, pointing at the cake.


    "It''s not what it looks like! I can explain!"


    Edward crossed his arms, looking every bit like a disappointed schoolteacher.


    "Really, young master?" he said with a flat tone.


    "It¡ª"


    Just before I could dig myself deeper, the sound of the footsteps echoed down the corridor.


    and flood of servants poured in.


    Every single one froze the moment they saw Edward.


    The room plunged into silence.


    "Oh no.. It''s Sir Edward.."


    One of the maids, clutching a broom, said.


    "And the young master.. together.."


    All of them shuddered collectively.


    The head chef, a burly man in his 30s stepped forward with his head lowered.


    "M-my lord."


    He said while his eyes darted between Edward and me.


    "I swear we had no idea this would happen!"


    The other staff nodded furiously, as if their lives depended on it.


    "Y-yes! The kitchen was locked!"


    "How did he even get in?"


    Edward''s gaze shifted to me, his silver hair gleaming under the light.


    "Explain, young master."


    "Well.."


    I opened my mouth, then paused, glancing at the staff.


    "The kitchen door wasn''t locked."


    Gasps rippled through the room.


    "I-I assure you, my lord, the kitchen is always locked!"


    The head chef straightened up, looking defensive.


    "Really?"


    I crossed my arms and tilted my head, raising an eyebrow.


    "Then how did I get in?"


    Silence.


    "H-he must have¡­"


    "Must have what?"


    I cut in.


    "Picked the lock? Scaled the walls? Teleported?"


    More silence.


    Edward''s gaze shifted back to head chef.


    "W-we might have¡­ forgotten¡­ to lock it¡­"


    "So, it''s not my fault then, is it?"


    The chef''s face turned pale.


    "N-no, of course not, young master.."


    "If anything, this is a security breach. What if someone dangerous got in?"


    Edward raised an eyebrow at that, and the chef nearly fainted.


    "You''re absolutely right, young master."


    the chef said, bowing his head rapidly.


    "It''s¡­ it''s entirely our fault."


    "Exactly."


    I nodded sagely.


    "You should be more careful."


    "Forgive us, young master!"


    "We''ll make sure this never happens again!"


    "It''s all our fault, my lord!"


    The staff broke into frantic apologies.


    "See? Problem solved."


    I turned to Edward, grinning.


    Edward''s lips twitched slightly, almost like he was suppressing a smile.


    "Dismissed."


    The staff scurried out of the kitchen, bowing repeatedly on their way out.


    "Well played, young master."


    "Thanks! I thought so too!"


    "Your father will hear of this."


    Edward sighed, adjusting his cuffs.


    "W-wait! Let''s not do anything drastic!"


    "Let''s not do what?"


    The deep, warm voice cut through the room.


    I turned to see my father, Magnus Ashenbane, standing in the doorway.


    His golden eyes gleamed and his lips curved into a faint smile as he stepped into the kitchen.


    "Father!"


    I ran toward him and leapt into his arms.


    He caught me effortlessly, lifting me up like I weighed nothing.


    "Now, what''s all this ruckus about, hmm?"


    he asked while laughing as he set me on his hip.


    "It wasn''t my fault!"


    I blurted out, pointing accusingly at Edward.


    "The door wasn''t locked! They admitted it!"


    "Is that true?"


    Magnus raised an eyebrow while looking at Edward.


    "It seems the staff..may have overlooked some security measures."


    Edward replied with a flat tone.


    "See? I am innocent."


    I grinned.


    "Innocent, you say?"


    Magnus chuckled.


    "You''re a little glutton, that''s what you are." he said, ruffling my hair.


    "I just wanted some cake..."


    I pouted.


    "HAHAHA!"


    Magnus''s laughter echoed through the kitchen.


    "Cake, huh? You''re lucky you didn''t hurt yourself with that tower of chaos."


    He started tickling my sides, making me squeal with laughter.


    "No! Stop! Father, no!


    I wriggled, trying to escape his grasp, but it was no use.


    His grin widened even more.


    "Little gluttons get punished with tickles."


    His voice was full of laughter, matching mine as I squirmed.


    "Uh-hum."


    Edward cleared his throat.


    "My lord, encouraging this behaviour isn''t exact¡ª"


    "Oh relax , Edward."


    Magnus waved his hand dismissively.


    "Let the boy be a boy."


    "If you say so, my lord. Though I fear he''ll take that as permission for further ''recon missions.''"


    Edward sighed while shaking his head slightly.


    "Perhaps he will. But even little gluttons need their rest."


    Magnus laughed and set me back on the ground.


    "It''s time for bed, Caelum."


    He crouched down to meet my gaze, brushing a stray lock of hair from my forehead.


    "Go on to your room now."


    "But the cake¡ª"


    "No buts."


    He gently nudged me toward the door.


    "Tomorrow''s another day, my little glutton."


    "Fine...."


    I sighed dramatically and dragged my feet toward the door.


    "Goodnight! Both of you."


    "Goodnight, boy."


    "Sleep well, young master."


    ***


    "The boy is going to give me gray hair before my time."


    Edward''s gaze followed Caelum as he disappeared around the corner.


    Magnus''s laughter echoed briefly through the kitchen.


    Then it stopped.


    "Edward."


    The shift in Magnus''s tone was immediate.


    The air in the room grew cold.


    "Yes, my lord."


    "What the boy said was true."


    Magnus''s golden eyes burned with intensity.


    His gaze was sharp and unforgiving.


    "He could have been hurt."


    Edward''s posture stiffened, but he remained silent.


    Magnus turned to the remnants of the kitchen chaos.


    His gaze swept across the scattered pans and broken tower.


    "Their carelessness cannot be overlooked."


    The words carried icy resolve and fell heavily in the silence.


    "Drag them all to the Crucible."


    "Yes, my lord."


    Magnus turned toward the window, moonlight casting sharp shadows across his features.


    The warmth had vanished, leaving only a chilling stillness.


    Silence hung heavy.


    "Let this be a reminder of the price of failure."


    Edward bowed and left without a sound.


    Magnus stood alone, his golden eyes fixed on the night beyond the glass.


    The warmth of the evening had faded, leaving only the cold certainty of consequences.