Systembreaker: Unparalleled Strength

The pale morning light crept through the narrow window of Kael and Erynn's modest home, casting soft beams over the bundled form of their newborn son. Rynar was asleep in his reinforced crib, a structure Kael had hastily rebuilt after his son's first week of life. The original crib, a simple wooden frame passed down from Kael's own childhood, had cracked under Rynar's powerful kicks. The new one was made of sturdier timber, its joints reinforced with nails and leather bindings.

Erynn sat at the edge of the bed, cradling her son in her arms. Her eyes were tired but tender as she traced the faint outline of a bruise on his tiny forearm. "He's hurting himself again," she murmured, her voice laced with worry.

Kael, seated by the hearth, set down the carving knife he'd been using to whittle a toy. "Let me see," he said, rising to his feet. He approached carefully, his broad shoulders blocking the light as he knelt beside her.

Erynn held out Rynar's arm, the faint purplish mark barely visible against his fair skin. "It must've happened last night. He was thrashing in his sleep again."

Kael frowned, his brow furrowing as he gently ran a finger over the bruise. "It's not deep, but he's getting stronger every day. His body isn't ready for this kind of strain."

Erynn nodded, shifting Rynar closer to her chest. The baby stirred but didn't wake, his tiny hand twitching reflexively. "I've tried keeping him swaddled tighter, but it doesn't help. He fights against it, and then it gets worse."

Kael stood, his jaw tightening. "I'll reinforce the crib again. And maybe the walls too, at this rate," he said, attempting a dry humor that fell flat in the heavy air.

Erynn managed a faint smile but said nothing. Her gaze remained fixed on Rynar, her fingers brushing his soft hair. "I'm going to make a salve for his bruises," she said after a moment. "Something to ease the pain and help his skin heal faster."

Kael nodded. "Good idea. I'll check the traps and bring back anything useful for your remedies."

---

Rynar's extraordinary strength became undeniable as the days turned into weeks. At just a month old, he began rolling over on his own, his movements forceful and deliberate. Erynn had barely turned her back one morning when she heard a loud thud. Whirling around, she found Rynar on his stomach, his blanket kicked to the side.

"How did you—" she started, then stopped herself. She quickly scooped him up, checking him over for any new bruises or scrapes. His bright eyes blinked up at her, his small hands waving as if in triumph.

Later that day, Kael returned from the forest with a fresh catch of rabbits. He found Erynn sitting on the floor beside the crib, holding a broken wooden toy in her hands. Rynar lay nearby, his tiny fist still gripping a piece of the toy's handle.

Kael knelt beside her, inspecting the broken object. "He did this?"

Erynn nodded, her expression a mix of awe and concern. "I didn't think he'd be able to grip it so hard. It's like… he doesn't know his own strength."

Kael exhaled slowly, setting the toy aside. "We're going to need to teach him control," he said, more to himself than to her.

That night, after Erynn and Rynar had gone to bed, Kael stayed up by the hearth, sharpening his hunting knife. The rhythmic scrape of metal against stone echoed softly in the quiet room.

His thoughts churned as he worked. Whisperwood had always been a safe haven, but Rynar's strength made him wonder how long that peace would last. The boy was an anomaly—Kael didn't need Aldric to tell him that. What worried him more was the potential danger Rynar could pose, not just to others but to himself.

Kael set down the knife and stood, stretching his tired muscles. He crossed the room to the crib, leaning over to look at his son. Rynar's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his small hands clenched into tiny fists.

"You're going to be a handful," Kael murmured. "But we'll figure this out."

---

Erynn worked tirelessly to adapt to Rynar's needs. She spent hours each day crafting salves and poultices from the herbs she foraged near the forest's edge, experimenting with combinations to ease his bruises and strengthen his fragile bones.

One afternoon, she sat by the window, grinding dried comfrey leaves into a fine powder. The mortar and pestle moved with practiced ease, her hands steady despite her exhaustion. Beside her, a small pot simmered over the fire, its contents releasing a soothing aroma.

Rynar lay on a padded blanket nearby, his tiny legs kicking in the air. Erynn glanced at him occasionally, smiling despite herself. He seemed content, his bright eyes fixed on a patch of sunlight dancing on the floor.

When the salve was ready, Erynn applied it gently to Rynar's arms and legs, humming a soft tune as she worked. The baby cooed in response, his earlier restlessness fading under her careful touch.

Despite their precautions, Rynar's strength continued to outpace his body's ability to handle it. One afternoon, while Erynn was preparing a meal, Rynar pushed himself up during tummy time with such force that he rolled onto his side awkwardly, letting out a sharp cry.

Erynn rushed to his side, her heart racing. She cradled him in her arms, her fingers carefully probing his arm. "Kael!" she called, her voice trembling.

Kael burst through the door moments later, his face pale. "What happened?"

"He… I think he hurt his arm," Erynn said, tears welling in her eyes. "I tried to stop him, but—"

Kael took Rynar from her, his hands steady despite the storm of emotions in his chest. He examined the baby's arm, his hunter's instincts kicking in. "It's a small fracture," he said after a moment. "I'll splint it."

Using strips of cloth and a smooth wooden stick, Kael carefully immobilized Rynar's arm. The baby whimpered but eventually calmed under Erynn's soothing whispers.

"We need to be more careful," Kael said quietly, his voice heavy. "He's going to keep doing this if we don't find a way to control it."

---

The following evening, Kael sat by the fire, carving a new toy for Rynar—a small wooden bird with rounded edges, sturdy enough to withstand his grip. Erynn rocked Rynar gently in her arms, humming the same tune she had sung earlier.

When the toy was finished, Kael handed it to Rynar, watching as his son's tiny fingers wrapped around it. For a moment, the room was silent. Then, unexpectedly, Rynar let out a laugh—a sound clear and joyful, filling the room with warmth.

Erynn's tired face lit up, her laughter joining her son's. Kael chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. In that moment, the challenges they faced seemed smaller, their love for their son eclipsing their fears.

Outside, the Whisperwood Forest stood quiet, its shadows stretching long and dark under the pale moonlight. Inside, the family found a rare moment of peace, their resolve to face the days ahead stronger than ever.