SSS Talent: From Trash to Tyrant

Trafalgar stayed quiet.

The ring had activated.

It was the first time it had done that since he got it, so it was not something he expected to happen, much less inside a random orphanage in Velkaris. Even so, nothing in his face gave anything away. Cynthia was too busy breathing deeply and trying to calm the embarrassment Sister Alena had dumped on her to notice anything strange in him.

She finally took a step forward and walked toward the boy by the window.

He was standing there watching the sunset and the streets of Velkaris beyond the glass. Trafalgar remained where he was, his thoughts turning over the same point again and again while Cynthia approached the child.

’Why did it activate? What is this? It’s the first time it has happened, and I’m confused. It’s not like what I felt with Rhosyn or Dravok. Not even close. So he doesn’t have Primordial blood. But if the ring reacted, that means he is far from ordinary!

His attention drifted to Cynthia while he thought.

He had not noticed it before because there had been too many people around, too much movement, too many voices crossing the room. Now, with only the three of them there, he could actually see her properly.

She was wearing what looked like a light spring dress, pale enough to match the color of her hair. It suited her. More than that, he could see the way she crouched beside the boy and spoke to him with a smile on her face, something he had not seen often enough.

In Trafalgar’s opinion, she should smile more.

Her usual strong temperament had its charm, but this side of her had something softer to it. Today, without the academy around her and without that defensive edge she carried so often, that side showed more clearly.

The boy smiled back at her.

The melancholy that had been sitting on his face near the window eased little by little while Cynthia spoke to him. He was probably still new enough to the place that everything felt foreign to him. New room. New adults. New children. No parents.

’Poor kid.’

Trafalgar did not need to know the details to understand that part. It was never a good sign when a child that age ended up in an orphanage.

A short while later, Cynthia and the boy rose and began walking back. She still had that smile, and now the child did too.

Trafalgar waited where he was. Since they were already near the door, he asked, ”What’s so funny?”

Cynthia answered without missing a beat.

”Oh, I just told him that you promised to play ball with him for a while. Don’t you remember? You said it a moment ago.”

Trafalgar, of course, had said no such thing.

He also understood immediately that he could not refuse now. Cynthia had chosen her timing well, and the boy was already watching him with open expectation. Rejecting that would make him look like a bastard for no reason, and while he had no problem acting like one when necessary, this was not a battlefield and the child was not his enemy.

So he let it pass.

”Oh, right,” he said. ”I forgot. Fine. Let’s go.”

The boy brightened at once.

The three of them stepped outside. The child grabbed a ball on the way, and they headed to the back yard. The place looked better than before now that the renovations had moved along. Parts of the ground had been cleared properly, some of the worn wood along the edges had been replaced, and the whole area had less of that tired feeling it carried during Trafalgar’s first visit.

They started simply, just passing the ball around with their feet.

The boy was clumsy, but he laughed at himself easily, which made him easier to guide. Trafalgar kept the pace light, nudging the ball toward him, showing him when to stop it, when to kick, when not to rush just because the ball had reached him.

”Control it first,” Trafalgar said. ”Don’t kick it away the moment it reaches you.”

The child frowned in concentration, trapped it badly, chased it half a step, and kicked it back anyway.

”Like that?”

”It was ugly,” Trafalgar said, ”but yes.”

Cynthia covered a smile with one hand. ”You really are bad at sounding

encouraging.”

”I’m being honest.”

The boy laughed. ”Big brother is funny.”

Trafalgar let that pass too.

Cynthia stayed seated near them at first, watching while pretending she had no intention of joining. Trafalgar noticed that and said nothing. After a few more

passes, he sent one wide enough that it rolled toward her.

She looked down at the ball, then at him.

He raised a brow. ”Not joining?”

Cynthia looked caught off guard by the question.

”What?”

”You heard me.”

She stood after a short pause, brushed the dress lightly, and walked over with the sort of expression that suggested she had every intention of proving she

would not embarrass herself in front of either of them.

The boy looked delighted. ”Sister Cynthia is playing too?”

”For a little while,” she said.

Her first kick came harder than expected.

The ball cut across the yard low and fast, straight toward the child.

Cynthia’s face changed at once.

Trafalgar moved.

[Severance Step]

One moment he was standing several paces away. The next, he was in front of the boy, catching him with one arm while stopping the ball with the other hand before it could hit either of them.

The whole thing ended almost before the child could register what had

happened.

Cynthia froze.

The boy did not.

If anything, the child looked amazed.

”That was amazing!” he said, staring up at Trafalgar with open admiration. ”Big

brother, you’re really strong. I’ll be like that too one day.”

Trafalgar dropped the ball from his hand and set the boy back down.

”Sure,” he said. ”If you train properly”

Cynthia let out a long breath she had clearly been holding.

”Thanks, Trafalgar.”

He answered with a small motion of his hand, nothing more.

The boy was still staring at him.

This time it was not because of the movement.

”Big brother,” he said, voice quieter now, ”you smell really familiar.”

A chill ran across Trafalgar’s back.

That line got under his skin much faster than it should have. It was not the ring reacting again. It was something else, something in the child’s tone, something

in the certainty behind the words.

’Familiar? What does he mean by that?’

Trafalgar crouched slightly so he would not tower over him as much.

”Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

The child shook his head.

”No...” He frowned, trying to put the thought together. ”I saw you with my

father a while ago. There was another man beside you too.”