When power hurts

"Sabastine!" Marco Rossi called out to the horse as he walked into the stables, dropping a bucket and a rake with a gentle clang against the concrete floor. Dressed like a cowboy—faded denim, brown boots caked in dirt, and a wide-brimmed hat slightly tilted over his tousled black curls—he looked like something torn out of a Western. A grin spread across his face as Sabastine neighed in recognition.

He rushed over and hugged the horse, rubbing his palm affectionately along the animal's smooth, muscled flank. "How are you doing today, buddy? Did you miss me? Bet you did," he whispered, his voice soft and musical, the way someone might speak to a frightened child.

The wind howled across the hills outside, stirring dust into spirals. The sun bled red into the horizon like a wound, casting long golden beams into the expensively furnished stable. Ornate chandeliers hung from wooden beams, illuminating stalls filled with strong, beautiful horses—each one well-groomed, their coats gleaming in the golden light, their tails wagging lazily.

Marco went from stall to stall, hugging each horse in turn.

"Antonio, still snorting like a dragon, huh?"

"Cleo, you little diva. Did you scare off the stable boy again?"

"Maximus! Still the strongest. But you're getting lazy, old man."

He chuckled softly at each, a private world shared only with them.

As he reached the last stall, he stopped. A single horse lay trembling in the dirt. Its breathing was ragged, sides heaving, one of its legs twisted unnaturally beneath it. Blood soaked the hay.

Marco's heart thudded. He knelt beside the creature, brushing trembling fingers across its bloodied side.

"Don’t give up on me, Aiden," he whispered.

He closed his eyes, and the air grew still. The wind stopped. The distant clattering of hooves ceased. A golden light pulsed from his palm. It was warm and radiant, flowing into the horse's wounds. Bones realigned. Flesh knit. Marco's breath became shallow. The light flickered as though dying. He collapsed beside Aiden, his face pale, his body shaking from depletion.

"Marco!" a voice barked from behind.

********************

"Damn it, kid. Not again."

Dr. Orion Rinnaldi, the Rossi family's long-time doctor and secret keeper, cursed under his breath as he adjusted the IV drip in Marco's arm. His brow was furrowed with concern.

"The horse... it was going to die," Marco whispered, barely conscious.

"You nearly joined it," Orion snapped, gripping Marco's wrist tightly to check his pulse. "This isn’t heroism. It’s suicide. You used too much energy."

He turned to the window. Aiden stood outside, completely healed and watching them in silence. Marco gave a faint smile.

"I saved him, didn’t I?"

"You could’ve drained your own life force in the process," Orion growled. "You’re not indestructible, Enigma or not. You’re lucky I found you when I did."

"I felt it," Marco said, blinking slowly. "Like energy slipping through my fingers. Like sand."

"No kidding. You’re running on fumes." Orion heaved Marco into a sitting position. "You could’ve collapsed."

"You don’t have to fuss."

"I fuss because you scare the hell out of me. That horse wasn’t worth your life."

Marco turned his tired eyes on the doctor. "Everything living has a right to fight for life."

"You say that like you’ve made peace with dying."

"I haven’t. I just... feel it pulling at me sometimes. Like I’m not made to last."

Dr. Orion's expression tightened. "Don’t say that. You’re not some candle burning fast for brilliance. You’re human. Your father might forget that, but I won’t. I’ve warned you countless times—you can’t keep using your energy like this."

Silence fell.

"Do you think he’d care? If I burned out?" Marco whispered.

Orion looked him dead in the eyes. "More than he’ll ever admit. You’re not just Diego Rossi's youngest son. You’re his blood. And he knows you're powerful. That’s why he keeps such a tight leash."

"A leash I keep breaking," Marco muttered with a dry chuckle.

"Yeah," Orion said, placing a steady hand on his shoulder, "but one day, if you're not careful, you’ll snap the leash and yourself with it."

Marco winced. "It’s like fire in my veins. I can’t always control it."

"That’s what training is for. But you go out alone. You push your limits without knowing them."

Marco turned away, his gaze distant.

"Your gift… it's incredible. But it's not infinite. Every time you heal someone, you draw from your life energy. If you keep pushing like this—"

"I'll drain away," Marco whispered. "Like my mother."

Orion stiffened.

"Yes."

"She tried to heal Dad once. A bullet wound. Drained too much."

"And it nearly killed you, even as a baby. You inherited more than her blood."

"So what now? I stop helping people because I’m scared of dying?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You help smarter. Train harder. Stop throwing yourself into danger for anyone with a heartbeat."

Marco nodded slowly.

"Even a horse?" he asked.

Orion rolled his eyes. "Especially a horse."

They laughed.

"Your power is a blessing, Marco. But if you let it, it’ll also be your curse."

The words settled between them like dust in the air.

Outside, the wind had calmed. Aiden grazed peacefully in the grass, unaware of the boy it almost killed.

Inside, Marco lay in quiet exhaustion, a new resolve blooming behind his tired eyes.

"Marco," Orion said suddenly.

"Yes?"

"When you find your soulmate, you’ll understand what your power is truly for."

Those words sent a strange chill through Marco. He hadn’t the chance to fully process them when the door burst open.

Leonard Rossi stormed in, his eyes dark with fury.

"Leonard..." Orion said cautiously.

"If you want to die, Marco, do it outside the Rossi mansion!" Leonard roared.

"Leonard, how can you say that to your younger brother?" Orion asked, voice rising.

"I said what I had to! If anything happens to him, Dad blames me for being a carefree older brother. If he can’t manage his own damn powers by now, do I have to spoon-feed him, too?"

Marco froze, speechless.

Things were never smooth between the two brothers. But Leonard’s tone that afternoon? It was a new level of cruelty.

And Marco knew something deeper than anger hid behind it.

Something like fear.