"And that's the story of the first Ken user...or should I say your great grandfather" the Queen said, her voice soft yet resonant, like a lullaby meant to soothe both fear and awe. She looked down at the boy sitting before her, his small frame curled on the edge of the royal bed, legs dangling carelessly over the polished silk sheets.
The lanterns in the room cast a warm glow, flickering across the ornate walls decorated with tapestries of past kings and legendary heroes. The smell of burning incense mingled with the faint scent of honeyed tea.
The child's eyes were wide, filled with a mixture of curiosity and longing.
"Mom, mom!" he exclaimed, hopping slightly in excitement. "Can I do it too? Make light come from my palm?"
She smiled, brushing her fingers gently through his hair. Her golden ornaments chimed softly, a quiet, musical reassurance. Though she wore the simple garments of a mother, her posture carried the unmistakable elegance of royalty—the grace of the Third Queen of the Kingdom.
"Oh, silly… yes, you will once you turn ten," she said affectionately, ruffling his hair.
The boy's eyes sparkled.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes," she whispered, leaning close to kiss his forehead. "For now… sleep, my little prince."
Her words were soft, but heavy with the weight of prophecy and destiny. This boy, born a prince, carried within him a spark no one else could understand.
---
Four years later.
The day had finally arrived. Natan, the youngest prince, was turning ten.
The palace was alive with movement and whispers. Banners of gold and crimson hung from the high ceilings, shimmering in the light of enchanted lanterns. The scent of roasted meat and sweet pastries filled the air. Nobles moved elegantly across the marble floors, their silks brushing softly, fans fluttering as they whispered to one another. Children of the court darted between columns, laughter echoing through the grand hall.
At the center, on a throne of polished obsidian, where King Arthur The IV sat—broad-shouldered, imposing, his expression carved from stone. Beside him, the Third Queen sat with quiet dignity, hands folded neatly in her lap, watching her son with an intensity she could not hide.
Natan's siblings lingered at the corners, silent and cold, eyes gleaming with envy. The courtiers watched, some amused, some concerned, all waiting.
Finally, the King's voice cut through the air. Deep. Absolute. Commanding.
"Natan, show me your Ken."
The hall fell into a tense silence. Musicians froze mid-note. Even the wind outside seemed to hold its breath.
Natan stepped forward, small but steady.
"Yes, Father."
He lifted his hands, staring at his palms as he had been taught in dreams and secret lessons. His heart raced. This was the moment he had imagined for years. He closed his eyes, focusing, willing light to burst forth.
But nothing happened.
A murmur passed through the crowd. Nobles exchanged looks. His siblings sneered subtly.
The King's jaw tightened.
"Natan! Show me your Ken!"
The boy tried again. Fingers trembling. Heart pounding. Breath short.
Still nothing.
"But Father… there's nothing… I can't…" he whispered, swallowing back tears, suppressing the fear rising in his chest.
The King's disappointment settled like a heavy fog.
"I never thought my son would be an… anomaly," he muttered. His eyes darkened. "So this is what I waited ten years for."
A tense silence followed. Then, in a voice colder than ice:
"Seal him in the Time Box. Let him watch time itself for eternity."
The Queen gasped, her eyes wide with terror.
"You can't do this, Arthur! He's your son!"
The King's expression hardened.
"I cannot accept someone like him as my child. Take him."
"No! No one's touching my son!" the Queen screamed, pressing Natan to her chest.
The King's hand raised, finger pointed.
BOOM!
A beam of Ken shot forth, striking the Queen in her chest. She collapsed, blood staining the marble floor, Natan screaming in horror.
"Ten years of waiting again for a son worthy of my throne… won't be that long," the King muttered, turning his gaze away from the devastation.
---
The guards dragged Natan across the hall as he screamed, claws digging into the cold marble.
"Mother! MOM!!" he cried, voice raw, tears streaming freely.
He thrashed, kicking, trying desperately to reach her.
They brought him to the chamber beneath the palace.
Heavy iron chains bound him to a chair. The cold bit through his skin. On the floor were strange, ancient letters etched into the stone, forming a glowing circle. Four Master Ken Magicians approached, cloaked and silent, faces unreadable.
They raised their hands and began to chant.
The symbols on the ground pulsed, glowing brighter with every word. Natan's cries echoed off the stone walls, reaching the King's ears from the throne above.
A sudden surge of light enveloped him, forming the Time Box. The cube of energy was absolute, trapping him in darkness, silent and infinite.
He could see the world outside. He screamed. He cried. He pounded on the invisible walls—but no one heard him.
---
Eternity passed.
Natan clawed at his chains until they snapped. He pressed against the edge of the seal—but it remained unreachable.
He fell into the void, curling in on himself, sobbing.
His body began to fade, his form blurring into nothingness.
"Mom… MOM… Father… anyone… please!" he screamed, but there was only emptiness.
Yet, deep inside, a faint ember stirred.
The first spark of Ken, waiting, watching, alive.
Then… a voice.
"What do you desire, Natan?"
Natan spun, fear gripping him.
"Who… who are you?"
"Me? I am just a nameless messenger…"
"A nameless messenger? What can you give me? What can you offer to ask something like that?"
"Everything. But it comes with a price…"
"Price? I don't care… Get me out of this. I'll pay anything!"
A laugh echoed, low and resonant.
"Very well. I will give you Ken."
Shadows surged from the edges of the box, wrapping around Natan. They filled him, burning with power. The Ken pulsed, alive inside him.
"Now let me out!" he shouted.
The voice whispered one last time, fading:
"Pardon me, young prince. I used all my Ken to grant your wish… Now I am fading."
The shadows disappeared. The Time Box remained. But the Ken—the fire of power—was now his.
---
He floated in silence.
He noticed a faint crack in the edge of the box. But he did not wish to leave. Not yet. Not anyone. The power inside him had changed him. Patience, anger, focus—it had awakened something more than desire for freedom.
He remained there, watching the Kingdom rise and fall. Empires bled, wars erupted, rulers died. Generations passed while he drifted, patient and bored, yet burning with the fire of Ken inside him.
And then… he left.
Natan emerged from the Time Box a
new being. He was no longer a crying boy, no longer a powerless prince.
He was patient. He was strong. He was dangerous. He is something that not exist.
And he found his new purpose.
Guardian of Time.
---