Avaxion sat cross-legged on the floor, a collection of toys spread out before him. His little brother, Axion, giggled as he maneuvered colorful figures in an elaborate game. But Avaxion's smile felt forced, a mask that couldn't hide the emptiness within.

"Look, Avaxion! We can defeat the dragon together!" Axion said, eyes shining with excitement as he thrust a plastic knight into the air.

Avaxion nodded, but his heart didn't lift. "Yeah, let's do that," he replied, his voice flat.

Axion paused, furrowing his brow. "Why do you look so... sad? Don't you want to play?" Avaxion's gaze drifted away, lost in the silence that filled his mind. "I'm fine," he said, but the words felt hollow.

"Fine? You don't look fine!" Axion's face scrunched up in frustration. "You're not acting like my brother anymore! You're just sitting there!"

With a sharp inhale, Axion tossed the knight aside, his small fists clenched. "I hate this! I want the real you back!"

Avaxion turned to meet his brother's gaze, a flicker of regret stirring within him. "I'm still here, Axion. I just... can't feel like I used to."

"Then what's the point?" Axion shouted, tears welling in his eyes. "If you're not happy, then I don't want to play!"

The words cut deeper than any blade, but Avaxion felt only a dull ache. He didn't know how to fix this. "I'm sorry," he said, the emptiness swallowing the sincerity of his apology. As his little brother stormed away, Avaxion felt the weight of his brother's disappointment settle over him. He accepted the silence and hollowness. 

The next day, news of the Empress's pregnancy swept through the empire like a warm breeze, igniting joy in the hearts of the people. Celebrations erupted in every corner, with laughter ringing in the air, but for Axion, the vibrant sounds felt distant and hollow. 

He watched the festivities unfold, a shadow among the bright lights, longing to feel the happiness that seemed to envelop everyone else. Ever since his powers had been sealed, emotions had slipped away, leaving a void where joy once resided.

Seven months later, on his 11th birthday, the air was electric with excitement. The announcement came that he would be named the crown prince, a moment that once would have filled him with pride and anticipation. Now, it was just another piece of news, a fact devoid of feeling. 

Most in the empire remained blissfully unaware of the truth that burdened him; the Emperor and Empress had worked tirelessly to keep his condition a secret.

As gifts poured in, Avaxion accepted them with a blank stare, murmuring thanks, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. But his heart skipped a beat when a familiar figure entered the hall—his friend, the one he had inadvertently harmed in a moment of uncontrolled power. 

For the first time in what felt like ages, a flicker of something stirred within him, a fragile sense of relief that perhaps he could no longer hurt anyone.

Days turned to nights, and soon the dark dreams began to haunt him. Each night, he was pulled deeper into a chasm of anxiety, waking with a cold sweat that clung to his skin. The nightmares grew darker, their grip tightening until he retreated to his room, locking the door against the world. 

He locked himself away, ordering everyone in the castle to stay out of his chamber. Solitude was the only escape from the weight of his reality. When concern reached him, he brushed it aside, claiming that silence was the only peace he could find.  

One quiet afternoon, the empress, sensing her son's growing unrest, his mother invited him to the palace garden for a picnic. Sunlight filtered through blooming trees as they spread a blanket beneath their shade, and his little brother's laughter rang freely through the air—light, unburdened, stitching together a fragile sense of peace.  

Warmth settled in his chest. Perhaps sealing his powers had been the right choice after all. There was now another life to protect. Another reason to endure.  

Unseen beyond the tall, arched halls bordering the garden, a figure lingered in the shadows. Cloaked in silence, it stood motionless between marble columns, eyes fixed on the royal family below. From its grasp slipped a small object, a dark unassuming etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly as it touched the stone floor.  

The air shifted.

As the empress drew the crown prince into a gentle embrace, a sudden chill crept along the prince's spine. Fear coiled in his chest, but he had no idea why the pressure inside him was stirring. The power he had sealed for so long was awakening, chaotic and uncontrollable, as if something unseen had reached inside him.  

"Avaxion!" his mother shouted, her voice sharp with urgency. She stepped in front of him, shielding him and his little brother from the unknown danger.  

He closed his eyes, overwhelmed. The pressure inside him became unbearable. Then a sudden, deafening force erupted from within. Dark energy tore outward in a violent wave, ripping through the garden as if reality itself had shattered. Flowers were hurled into the air, trees splintered, and the ground trembled beneath the eruption. The air crackled with raw, unstable power.  

Avaxion felt his mother's warmth fade. When he opened his eyes, she lay on the ground, blood staining her robes, cradling her stomach. Shock froze him in place.  

"It's going to be alright, my son," she whispered, voice trembling yet resolute. "Don't blame yourself. I love you."  

The words carved themselves into his soul.  

When he opened his eyes again, she lay lifeless in his arms, and the weight of her absence crashed down upon him. 

Confusion swirled in his mind; he should feel something—anything—but the emptiness remained.   

He stared at his mother's still form, unable to grasp the full weight of her loss. The horror of that moment, combined with the shame of his unyielding emotional void, ignited something deep within. It was a breaking point that unleashed a torrent of emotions he could no longer contain. In that moment, he finally snapped.  

A surge of familiar power flooded through him, chaotic and untamed, mirroring the tempest that roared inside his heart. 

This explosion was different—it was a release of all the grief, guilt, and anger he had kept locked away.  

He cried out, surrendering to the force he could no longer contain.  

In the shadows, the figure disappeared quietly, leaving behind only the object that had begun it all.  

To be continued...