— THE AWAKENING OF HANDS
Vaen sat in the center of his pocket world, still as a shadow, still as mist. The familiar hovered nearby, flickering in colors he didn't have names for.
He had been… waiting. He didn't know how long. Time had no meaning here. Only patterns, shapes, echoes. And curiosity.
Curiosity was new.
He lifted a hand. Just one. His fingers brushed the air, uncertain. Nothing happened at first. The mist swirled as if testing him, playful, teasing.
Then a leaf appeared. Small, fragile, trembling on the wind that shouldn't exist. It hovered in front of him.
Vaen's brow furrowed. "You move because I think it?" he whispered. Almost to himself. "Or because you want to?"
The leaf trembled again, then split into two. And then four. And then dozens, swirling around him in a chaotic dance.
Vaen blinked. He hadn't expected this. Not yet. The World Seed obeyed—but imperfectly. Like it was learning him as much as he was learning it.
A sound broke the quiet. A low hum, vibrating through his bones. The serpent. Still beneath the ground. Observing. Waiting. Patient.
Vaen swallowed. He felt… something stir inside him. Not fear. Not exactly. Awareness. Power. Responsibility? He didn't have that word yet. Didn't need it.
He raised both hands. The rivers froze. The trees bent closer. The familiar's light pulsed with anticipation.
And then he smiled—small, deliberate, cold in a way no child should smile.
Everything listens.
He reached toward the river and touched it. Slowly. Carefully. The water split, parted like a curtain. Shapes formed in the void, creatures not yet alive but not quite ideas either.
The familiar hovered closer, shimmering brighter. Vaen's gaze followed it, curiosity tangled with understanding.
"Not strong enough," he murmured. The words were almost a question. Or a warning. He didn't know which.
A ripple shook the ground. The serpent's presence pressed against him, not threatening, just… testing.
Vaen paused. Small hand extended. Fingers trembling. And then, with a tiny, effortless motion, the shapes solidified. Creatures of mist became solid enough to touch. Not fully formed, not fully real—but real enough to obey.
His lips curved. The first flicker of control. The first whisper of mastery.
Somewhere, far above in the High Heavens, a god stirred. A shiver ran through the eternal being. Something was wrong. A child, yes… but not just a child. Something alive with the language of creation itself.
Vaen didn't know it yet. Couldn't know it yet.
He only knew the world bent to his curiosity. And he liked it.
He liked it very much.