The first week of May in 1974 unfolded with a gentle warmth, a stark contrast to the lingering chill of the preceding months. The days stretched longer, painted with the vibrant hues of spring. Flowers bloomed in a riot of color, their sweet fragrance carried on the soft breeze. It was during this idyllic time that Elen found himself increasingly restless.
He had been feeling particularly bored in recent days, confined to the house. His father, David, was often at the family restaurant, "The Golden Wok," and today was especially busy. A kitchen worker had called in sick, and so his mother, Mary, had gone to help out, leaving Elen to his own devices. He'd read all his books, played all his games, and even tried his hand at a bit of gardening, but the hours stretched endlessly. The house felt strangely empty without the usual bustle of his parents, and a sense of unease settled over him. He longed for something, anything, to break the monotony.
As evening approached, the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows that danced and stretched across the neighborhood streets. The sky transformed into a canvas of breathtaking beauty, a swirling blend of orange, gold, and deep violet. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees, carrying the sweet scent of blooming jasmine and freshly cut grass. Elen, seeking solace from his thoughts and the oppressive boredom, decided to take a stroll.
He walked along the familiar streets, his hands tucked into the pockets of his worn jeans. The neighborhood was peaceful, the air filled with the chirping of crickets and the distant laughter of children playing. He passed by neatly manicured lawns, quaint houses with glowing windows, and the occasional friendly face of a neighbor. Yet, even amidst this tranquility, Elen felt a strange undercurrent, a sense of unease that he couldn't quite explain.
Rounding a corner, he heard a faint sound, a high-pitched, distressed cry that pierced through the evening calm. His senses, heightened by the strange energy that now pulsed within him, immediately went on alert. He quickened his pace, his heart pounding with a mixture of concern and a growing sense of urgency. The cry was repeated, closer this time, and he broke into a jog, following the sound.
He found a girl sitting on the curb, her small frame trembling with sobs. She couldn't have been more than seven years old, with tear-streaked cheeks and wide, frightened eyes. Her dark hair was disheveled, and her small hands were clenched into tight fists. Elen knelt beside her, his voice gentle and soothing. "Hey, what's wrong? Are you hurt?"
The girl looked up at him, her face a mask of misery. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving glistening trails in the fading light. "I...I lost my cat," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. "Whiskers. He ran away, and I can't find him anywhere."
Elen's heart went out to her. He remembered the comfort of having a pet, the unconditional love and companionship they provided. He couldn't imagine the distress of losing such a friend. "I'll help you find him," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "Don't worry, we'll find Whiskers. What does he look like?"
The girl sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "He's...he's fluffy," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "And black, all black, with big, green eyes. And he has a little white patch, like a star, on his chest."
They began their search, Elen carefully scanning the surroundings, his eyes sharp and observant. He checked under bushes, behind fences, and called out Whiskers' name, his voice carrying through the quiet evening. The girl followed him closely, her small figure filled with a mixture of hope and anxiety.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Elen spotted Whiskers. The cat was perched high up in a tall oak tree, his black fur blending almost seamlessly with the shadows. He was clinging to a branch, his green eyes wide with fear. Below the tree, a large, boisterous dog was barking furiously, jumping up at the trunk, its claws scraping against the rough bark. The dog was a Bullmastiff, its powerful frame and menacing bark a stark contrast to the small, frightened cat.
Standing a short distance away was a stout boy, his face flushed with a cruel amusement. He was throwing stones at the cat, his laughter echoing through the evening air, a harsh, grating sound that made Elen's blood boil. The stones were small pebbles, but each one that struck Whiskers made the cat flinch and lose his footing slightly.
Elen's heart sank. He felt a surge of protectiveness for the small creature, a fierce determination to help the girl and save the cat from harm. He could feel the now-familiar energy within him, the power that came with the Core, beginning to stir, responding to his emotions. It was a subtle tingling at first, a warmth that spread through his veins, and then it grew stronger, more focused.
One of the stones struck Whiskers, and the cat lost his footing, his paws scrabbling for purchase on the branch. He began to fall, his body twisting in the air. The girl cried out, her voice filled with terror and despair. Elen's mind raced. He couldn't let the cat fall. He had to do something.
Time seemed to slow down, the world around him blurring as his senses focused on the falling cat. He felt a strange sensation, a tingling in his fingertips, a surge of power that coursed through his body. It was as if the air around him thickened, as if the very fabric of reality was bending to his will. And then, impossibly, the cat, instead of plummeting to the ground, was gently pushed back up, his fall arrested in mid-air. He floated for a moment, suspended as if held by an invisible hand, and then was guided back to the branch, landing safely with a soft thud.
The girl gasped, her eyes wide with disbelief. The stout boy froze, his arm still raised, the stone clutched in his hand. The dog stopped barking, tilting its massive head in confusion, its brown eyes filled with a mixture of bewilderment and unease. Even the crickets seemed to fall silent, as if the entire world was holding its breath.
Elen knew, with a sudden certainty that both thrilled and frightened him, that it was his power, the power that came with the Core, that had saved the cat. It surprised him that the power could be used this way, for something other than the training simulations and the strange visions he sometimes experienced. He had always assumed it was a force for...other things, for purposes he didn't yet fully understand.
He pushed the thought aside for now. He had to focus on the situation at hand. The cat was safe, the girl was terrified, and the boy...the boy was still standing there, a sneer slowly forming on his face. Elen turned to him, his expression hardening. He recognized the boy now. It was Vernon Dudley, the nephew of his neighbor a few blocks over, and a notorious bully in the neighborhood.
"Excuse me," Elen said, his voice calm but firm, masking the turmoil of emotions within him. "Could you please call off your dog and leave the cat alone? He's not hurting anyone."
Vernon turned around, his face flushed with a mixture of anger and defiance. He was bigger than Elen, at least four years older, with a thick neck, a beefy build, and a sneering expression that spoke volumes about his character. His eyes, small and beady, glittered with malice. "And what's it to you, twerp?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Mind your own business. Go back to playing with your dolls."
The girl, still clutching Elen's hand, whimpered, her small body trembling. The dog, sensing its master's aggression, barked again, a loud, menacing sound that echoed through the quiet street, snapping at the air as if daring Elen to challenge it.
"The cat is scared," Elen said, trying to keep his voice even, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel the energy within him growing, a coiled power that yearned to be released. "He's just trying to stay out of harm's way. He's not bothering anyone. Just let him come down."
Vernon laughed, a loud, unpleasant sound that grated on Elen's nerves. "Why should I?" he retorted, taking a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "It's fun watching him squirm. And besides," he puffed out his chest, his voice laced with arrogance, "it's my dog's tree. He can bark at whatever he wants. And you," he stepped even closer, his face inches from Elen's, his breath smelling of stale sweets, "You think you're so smart, huh? Trying to be a hero?"
Before Elen could react, Vernon swung at him, a clumsy but powerful punch aimed at his face. It was a wild, telegraphed blow, fueled by anger and a sense of superiority. Elen, however, was already moving. His reflexes, honed by countless hours of training within the Core's simulations, were far beyond those of an ordinary ten-year-old. He easily dodged the blow, stepping to the side with a speed and grace that belied his age.
Vernon grunted in surprise, his face contorted in frustration. He was off balance, his momentum carrying him forward. Elen saw an opportunity, a brief opening in Vernon's clumsy attack. He moved with a speed and precision that would have been impossible for a normal boy his age, his movements fluid and economical. He delivered a swift, clean strike to Vernon's shoulder, a precise jab that targeted a nerve cluster.
Vernon yelped in pain, a sharp, involuntary cry that echoed in the evening air. He stumbled backward, clutching his shoulder, his face contorted in pain and disbelief. The force of the blow, though not overtly powerful, had been enough to momentarily stun him, to disrupt his balance and coordination.
He roared in fury, his face turning a mottled red. He charged at Elen again, his movements even more wild and uncontrolled than before. This time, Elen didn't hold back. He knew he had to end this quickly, before Vernon could recover and inflict any real damage. He used a series of rapid, controlled movements, deflecting Vernon's flailing arms and landing precise counter-strikes. He parried Vernon's clumsy punches with ease, his hands moving like lightning, deflecting the blows away from his body. He struck with purpose, targeting pressure points and nerve clusters, using his enhanced speed and strength to his advantage. He could feel the power of the Core flowing through him, enhancing his speed, his strength, and his reflexes. It was almost...effortless, as if he was moving on instinct, guided by an unseen force.
Finally, with a sharp, decisive strike, a focused burst of energy channeled through his fist, he knocked Vernon to the ground. Vernon landed with a heavy thud, the air whooshing out of his lungs, his eyes wide with shock and pain. He lay there for a moment, stunned and disoriented, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
The dog, seeing its master fall, its loyalty overriding its fear, lunged at Elen, its teeth bared, its growl a low, menacing rumble. The girl screamed, even more scared now, her small body shaking violently. Elen reacted instantly, his senses heightened, his movements lightning-fast. He sidestepped the dog's attack, his movements a blur of motion. The dog, unable to change direction quickly enough, crashed into a nearby bush, its momentum carrying it forward.
With a swift, precise movement, Elen delivered a powerful kick to the dog's ribs, a controlled strike that sent the animal sprawling. The dog landed with a yelp, a sharp, painful sound that echoed through the evening, winded and whimpering. It lay there for a moment, its body trembling, its eyes filled with confusion and pain.
Vernon and his dog lay on the ground, defeated. Vernon was holding his shoulder, his face contorted in pain and disbelief, his bravado completely shattered. The dog whimpered, unable to get up, its tail tucked between its legs. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the girl's soft sobs.
Elen turned to the girl, his expression softening, his anger replaced by concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Are you hurt?"
The girl nodded, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and awe. She was still shaking, but the terror in her face was slowly being replaced by a sense of wonder.
He helped her up, his touch gentle and reassuring. Then, he carefully coaxed Whiskers down from the tree, the cat finally venturing down, sensing that the danger had passed. The cat, sensing the tension was over, readily came to his owner, rubbing against her legs and purring softly. The girl held Whiskers close, burying her face in his soft fur, her sobs gradually subsiding.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling, her gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you so much for saving Whiskers."
Elen smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "You're welcome," he said. "I'm glad I could help. What's your name?"
"Phily," she said, her voice still a little shaky. "My name is Phily."
"I'm Elen," he replied. "It's nice to meet you, Phily. Where do you live? I'll take you and Whiskers home. It's getting dark, and I want to make sure you get there safely."
He walked Phily and her cat to her house, a small cottage with a warm, inviting glow emanating from its windows. As he walked away, he glanced back at the retreating figures of Vernon and his dog. Vernon was still clutching his shoulder, his face a mask of sullen anger, while the dog limped beside him, its tail still tucked between its legs. Elen frowned. The name Vernon Dudley sounded a bit familiar, a distant echo from a memory he couldn't quite grasp, but he couldn't quite place it. He shrugged it off, attributing it to the fact that it was not an uncommon name.