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

Days turned into weeks, and still Steele lay motionless on his bed, eyes wide open yet unseeing. The village healers came and went, their magic soothing the physical injuries but unable to rouse the boy from his strange slumber.

Steele's mother, Elowen, sat by his bedside, her face etched with worry. She gently stroked his hair, whispering, "Come back to us, my little one. Please."

Milo hovered nearby, guilt weighing heavily on his young shoulders. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said for the hundredth time. "I should have watched him better."

Elowen reached out, pulling Milo into a tight embrace. "It's not your fault, love. Accidents happen."

But as the days wore on, hope began to fade. The house felt hollow without Steele's laughter, his endless questions, his boundless energy.

Then, one unremarkable afternoon, everything changed.

Elowen was preparing a simple stew, the sound of her chopping of vegetables filling the quiet house. Milo sat at the table, halfheartedly pushing wooden figurines around.

Suddenly, Steele's voice rang out, sharp and urgent. "Mom! The pot!"

Elowen whirled around, her eyes wide with shock. The pot of stew was indeed boiling over, flames licking up its sides. She quickly moved it off the fire, her hands shaking.

When she turned back to Steele's room, she found him sitting up in bed, his eyes glowing an eerie green. The light faded as she watched, leaving behind her son's familiar brown eyes.

"Steele?" she whispered, hardly daring to believe it.

He blinked, looking confused. "Mom? What happened? Why am I in bed?"

Elowen rushed to him, gathering him in her arms as tears streamed down her face. Milo joined them, the small family clinging to each other in relief and joy.

But as the days passed, it became clear that something had changed in Steele. He would wake in the night, screaming about terrible visions.

"There's a monster in the corner, Mom!" he cried one night, pointing at an empty space. "Can't you see it?"

Elowen tried to soothe him. "There's nothing there, sweetheart. It's just shadows."

But Steele was inconsolable. "No, it's real! It's going to hurt us!"

These episodes became more frequent, leaving both Steele and his family exhausted and frightened. Elowen began to wonder if her son's fall had damaged more than just his body.

In desperation, she decided to seek help from the village head, a man known for his wisdom and his magical ability to see things no one else could.

The village head's hut stood at the center of their settlement, its walls adorned with strange symbols and dried herbs. As they approached, Steele clung tightly to his mother's hand.

Inside, the air was thick with incense. The village head, an elderly man with a long white beard, peered at them over half-moon spectacles.

"Ah, young Steele," he said, his voice creaking like old wood. "I've heard about your... accident."

He examined Steele closely, muttering under his breath. After what seemed like an eternity, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Elowen," he said. "There's nothing I can do. This is beyond my abilities."

Elowen's heart sank. "But surely there must be something..."

The village head beckoned her closer, whispering something in her ear. Steele couldn't hear the words, but he saw his mother's face pale.

As they spoke, Steele's eyes began to glow green again. He was seeing a vision and it involved the village head. Whatever he saw left him shaken.

The vision faded, leaving Steele trembling. He tugged at his mother's sleeve, desperate to tell her what he'd seen, but the look on her face stopped him.

As they walked home, the words tumbled out of Steele. "Mom, the village head is bad! I saw him doing scary things with magic!"

Elowen stopped dead in her tracks. She knelt down, clasping her hand over Steele's mouth. "Never say that again," she hissed, fear evident in her eyes. "Do you understand me? Never!"

Steele nodded, tears welling up in his eyes.

Elowen's expression softened slightly. "Those powers of yours... they're not natural, Steele. They're demonic and dangerous. Promise me you won't use them again."

"I promise," Steele whispered, despite not being sure on how to keep that promise because he didn't know how exactly his powers worked.

Life in the village changed after that. Word of Steele's strange affliction spread, and soon the other children began to avoid him. Even his old playmates kept their distance, fear evident in their eyes. They neither wanted to be involved with him for fear of something happening to him again, as the kids involved in the first accident were severely punished by their parents.

While some were just scared, hearing that Steele now has powers which was not normal for a boy his age.

Naturally, magic was common, yet uncommon. No one really understood how one got magic but the belief was that it was innate in everyone and only surfaced to those that truly need it. Of course, not many people believed this was the truth as there were other ways to get magic besides some kind of divine intervention but the majority rolled with this.

Steele found himself withdrawing, spending more time alone. He tried to keep his promise to his mother, but the visions came unbidden, showing him things he didn't want to see.

One evening, as Steele and Milo were returning from a rare outing with their old friends, they noticed something was wrong. The door to their house stood ajar, an unnatural silence hanging in the air.

"Mom?" Milo called out, pushing the door open.

The sight that greeted them would be forever seared into Steele's memory. Their mother lay on the floor, her eyes open and unseeing, a pool of blood spreading beneath her.

Milo's anguished cry pierced the air. He rushed to Elowen's side, shaking her desperately. "Mom! Mom, wake up!"

Steele stood frozen in the doorway, his young mind unable to process the scene before him. As shock gave way to grief, his eyes began to glow green once more.

In that moment, Steele saw it something...

"Officer Steele..."

"Officer Steele..."

Voices called out to Steele...

Steele sat on his chair, motionless, his eyes glowing an intense green. His hands were folded across his chest, his face an impassive mask.

Two junior officers stood before his desk, shifting uncomfortably. They had been sent to deliver an urgent message, but Steele hadn't so much as blinked since they entered.

"Officer Steele?" one of them ventured, his voice tinged with nervousness. "Sir, can you hear us?"

No response.

The officers exchanged worried glances. This wasn't the first time they'd encountered Steele in this state, and the rumors about his peculiar habits were legion throughout the department.

"Steele?" the other officer tried again, a bit louder this time. "We have a message from the commander."

Still nothing. The eerie green glow of Steele's eyes remained fixed on some distant point, seeing things beyond the confines of the office.

After several more uncomfortable minutes, the first officer sighed. "It's no use. He's gone again."

His partner nodded, already turning towards the door. "They say he sleeps like that, you know. Eyes wide open, glowing like some kind of demon."

"I heard he once stayed like that for three days straight," the first officer whispered as they left. "Solved a five-year-old cold case when he finally snapped out of it."

As the door closed behind them, Steele remained frozen in place.