I, the slave boy, awaken with the most potent seed!!

"Steele! Steele! Come on, slowpoke!"

The shouts echoed through the dusty streets of the small village, accompanied by the patter of bare feet on sun-baked earth. A group of children raced through the narrow alleys, their laughter bouncing off the weathered walls of thatched cottages.

At the back of the pack, a small boy with unruly dark hair pumped his short legs as fast as he could, determination etched on his young face. This was Steele, the youngest of the group at just seven years old, forever trying to keep up with his older brother and friends.

"Wait up!" Steele called out, his voice high and breathless. "You guys are too fast!"

The leader of the group, a lanky 13-year-old named Jace, glanced back with a grin. "You gotta be quicker, Steele! Can't catch dragonflies if you're slow as a turtle!"

The children burst into a small clearing on the outskirts of the village, where tall grass swayed in the warm breeze and dragonflies darted about in flashes of iridescent blue and green. The group came to a stop, panting and giggling.

Steele's older brother, Milo, ruffled his hair as he caught up. "Nice job keeping up, little brother. You're getting faster!"

Steele beamed at the praise, his chest puffing out with pride. "Really? Maybe next time I'll beat you all!"

The other children laughed good-naturedly. There was Lily, her red hair blazing like fire in the sunlight; twins Finn and Faye, always finishing each other's sentences; and quiet Roran, who could move as silently as a cat when he wanted to.

Jace clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, gang! Who's ready to catch some dragonflies?"

A chorus of excited cheers answered him. The children spread out, creeping through the grass with exaggerated stealth, hands cupped and ready to snatch their prey from the air.

Steele watched the others, trying to mimic their movements. He saw Lily lunge suddenly, her hands closing around something. "Got one!" she cried triumphantly, carefully peeking between her fingers at the captured insect.

The others crowded around to see, oohing and aahing at the delicate creature. Steele stood on his tiptoes, trying to get a glimpse. "Can I see? Please?"

Lily lowered her hands, allowing Steele a look. The dragonfly's wings shimmered like gossamer in the sunlight, its compound eyes seeming to study the young boy intently.

"It's beautiful," Steele whispered, awe in his voice.

Lily nodded, then opened her hands. The dragonfly hesitated for a moment before zipping away, quickly lost among the waving stalks of grass.

As the afternoon wore on, the children's game evolved. They chased each other through the field, pretending to be knights and dragons, pirates and sea monsters. Steele threw himself into each role with gusto, his imagination transforming the humble clearing into fantastical realms.

"I'm the fiercest dragon in all the land!" Milo roared, chasing after Finn and Faye. "None can defeat me!"

Steele leapt out from behind a bush, brandishing a stick like a sword. "I'll save you!" he cried, swinging his makeshift weapon at his brother's legs.

Milo played along, staggering dramatically. "Oh no! The brave knight has wounded me!"

The children's laughter rang out across the field, a joyous soundtrack to their adventures.

As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, Jace suggested one last game before heading home.

"Let's climb the old oak!" he proposed, pointing to a gnarled tree at the edge of the clearing. Its thick branches reached out invitingly, promising a bird's eye view of their playground.

The children raced to the tree, each finding their own path up its twisted trunk. Steele watched from the ground, a mix of excitement and apprehension on his face.

Milo noticed his hesitation. "You okay, Steele? We can stay down here if you want."

Steele shook his head stubbornly. "No, I want to climb too!"

Jace, already halfway up the tree, called down. "Hey, I've got an idea! There's a small branch up here that'd be perfect for Steele. It's not too high, and he's the lightest of us all."

The other children agreed enthusiastically, encouraging Steele to join them. With Milo's help, Steele began to clamber up the trunk, his small hands finding purchase on the rough bark.

As he neared the branch Jace had pointed out, a sense of accomplishment swelled in his chest. He was doing it! He was climbing just like the big kids!

"That's it, Steele!" Lily cheered from a nearby branch. "You're almost there!"

Steele reached for the small branch, his fingers just brushing its surface. He stretched a little further, determined to prove himself.

Suddenly, there was a sharp crack. The branch, too weak to support even Steele's slight weight, snapped clean off the trunk.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Steele hung suspended in the air, his eyes wide with shock. Then gravity took hold, and he plummeted towards the ground.

The other children screamed, helpless to do anything but watch as their youngest member fell. Steele hit the ground with a sickening thud, his small body crumpling on impact.

Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. The children stared in horror, frozen in place.

It was Milo who moved first, scrambling down the tree with reckless speed. He reached Steele's side, tears already streaming down his face.

"Steele? Steele, can you hear me?" Milo's voice cracked as he gently shook his brother's shoulder.

The other children gathered around, their faces pale with shock and fear.

"Is... is he..." Faye couldn't bring herself to finish the question.

Jace, trying to be the responsible oldest, knelt beside Milo. "We need to get help. Finn, Faye, run to the village. Get the healer, and... and tell Steele's mom."

The twins nodded mutely, taking off at a sprint towards the village.

Milo carefully gathered Steele in his arms, cradling his little brother's head. "Hold on, Steele. Please, just hold on," he whispered, his voice choked with sobs.

As the group made their way back to the village, they called out to Steele, begging him to wake up, to say something, anything. But Steele remained silent and still.

What they couldn't know, what Steele himself could barely comprehend, was that while his body lay motionless, his mind was far from quiet. Strange visions flashed before his eyes – places he'd never seen, people he'd never met, events yet to unfold.

It was as if he was seeing through a hundred different eyes all at once, each showing him a fragment of some greater whole. The images came faster and faster, a dizzying kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that threatened to overwhelm his young mind.