The blade passed within an inch of the fifth rib, parting tissue as it dug into his body.
No emotions, not even now; no panic, no angst. Only a sense of fulfillment, as the chilled bronze blade penetrated deeper in to the side of his chest.
Then he felt the spark.
A spark he had felt only three times before. Once on his sixth birthday, and the second and third time being earlier that day, when he had rammed the first dagger straight into his own heart, through the center of his chest, and the second dagger in between his fourth and fifth rib.
Last time, however, it had been on his left side, making the arch of the strike easier to complete.
Last time, the strike had been perfect, fluent. Now, however...
The amount of blood that was seeping from the fresh wound was dismissible.
As was the pain.
The first time, however, the rapid blood loss scared him.
And the pain had been excruciating.
That was all before the first spark of true power lit up in his chest.
That was all before he knew what he had read to be true.
He shook his head, hoping it would help him clear his thoughts.
"Focus," he hissed between clenched teeth, before getting up to his feet.
Even with his newfound power, he had still lost a lot of blood that day.
And the fact that he ruined the dinner earlier that day led his mother to banish him from the table for the time being.
His cheek twitched, and he felt a feeling he rarely had felt before; pure joy.
"Oh, that's right. I have no mother anymore," he said with a light, yet grim tone.