I pressed my hand over my mouth to stifle giggles. This was harmless. Completely harmless. Just making staff briefly wonder about minor electrical anomalies. But the bratty pleasure in causing tiny chaos—in knowing I was responsible for their confusion—felt delicious.
Then I found something better.
The grand hall two floors below the nursery held Zephyron's decorative lightning sculptures. I'd seen them during my brief tour of the public spaces—massive crystalline formations that captured and displayed static electrical patterns. They were art pieces, meant to showcase the beauty of controlled lightning. Normally they just glowed with preset patterns, powered by their connection to the citadel's grid.
I pushed my awareness into their circuits. Felt the current flowing through the crystalline structures, saw how the energy distributed itself according to the sculptures' internal architecture.
What if I gave them more power? Not enough to damage them—I could feel their tolerances clearly. Just enough to make the static displays actually move.
I channeled current through the first sculpture. The lightning pattern that had been frozen in static pose suddenly writhed anddanced. Arcs jumped between crystal branches. The blue-white glow intensified, throwing moving shadows across the hall.
Then the second sculpture. Then the third.
I made them respond to each other—when one flared bright, the others dimmed, then reversed. Created a rhythm. A conversation in lightning between three pieces of art that were never meant to move.
The effect was probably beautiful. Dramatic. Possibly alarming to anyone who happened to be in the grand hall right now.
"Are the sculptures malfunctioning?" A woman's voice, distant but clear through my enhanced senses.
"I don't know. They've never done that before. Should we contact Lord Zephyron?"
"He's in an emergency meeting. Let's monitor it for now."
I eased back on the power, letting the sculptures return to their normal static displays. But my grin was wide enough to hurt. I'd just made art move. Had created a light show in a public space. Had probably given the household staff something to discuss over lunch.
And I wasn't done.
My awareness found the communication relays next. The ones I'd helped redesign. The breakthrough I'd been so proud of—multiple crystals in parallel configuration, each transmitting at complementary frequencies to extend range.
These were sophisticated. Delicate. Currently in standby mode, their crystalline matrices humming softly as they maintained baseline connection with Zephyron's other installations across Tempest Reach.
I shouldn't touch these. They were critical infrastructure. Breaking them would mean losing instant communication across the territory.
But Iwasn'tgoing to break them. Just examine them. Test how my electrical signature interacted with the embedded frequencies Zephyron had programmed.
I sent the lightest possible pulse through the first relay. Felt how the crystal accepted the power, channeled it, amplified it according to its harmonic frequency. The mathematical elegance of the design made my brain light up with appreciation. This was beautiful engineering.
I tried harmonizing with it. Matched my electrical output to the crystal's natural frequency. The relay hummed, louder than its standby tone, and began to glow.
The second crystal responded when I shifted my frequency to match its complement. The third required another adjustment. But I could do it. Could make all three sing in harmony, their combined output creating the clean signal that would carry messages across the territory.
I wasn't transmitting anything. Just making them hum. Testing the resonance. Watching how the frequencies interlocked and amplified each other exactly the way I'd predicted in my calculations.
The relays glowed brighter. Their hum became audible even without enhanced hearing—a three-part chord in crystalline tones that made the glass walls vibrate sympathetically.
"Now the communications array is acting up. What is going on today?"
"Should we shut it down? Run diagnostics?"
"Let's wait. If there's an actual problem, the monitoring crystals will alert—oh, it stopped."
I'd pulled back, returning the relays to standby mode. But my heart raced with excitement. I'd just proven that I could interface directly with Zephyron's most sophisticated technology. Could control it. Could potentially transmitmessages myself without needing the standard encoding equipment.
I lay back against the pillows, electricity still crackling enthusiastically across my hands and arms. The lightning scars glowed bright enough to cast shadows.
I was absolutely, deliberately,gleefullybreaking Zephyron's rule. Testing his boundaries. Pushing to see what would happen when he found out—and he would find out. Through the bond, I could feel his attention still focused on the meeting, but eventually he'd return. Eventually someone would report the strange electrical activity throughout the citadel.
Eventually I'd face consequences.
