((Typos fixed on February 23, 2018 Friday))

A/N: umm, something else I wrote in November 2014 and am finally posting. I haven't really found any fics about Zak's powers when they started showing (although I didn't look very hard, I'll admit), so here's this for ya.

I also wanted to do something with Drew, although this is admittedly not much. Had to be Drew though, since Zak is a bit of a Mommy's boy. Love their relationship though.

For those following my story Sacrifice, I'll update as soon as I can. I'm still writing chapter 5 (an' it's a big 'un) and need to plan chapter 6, thank you for your patience.

In the beginning's our sorrow and joy,

They days that seemed fair and golden,

While one day we're old, we look back, and behold!

Some will love and some shall loathe them.

DICLAIMER: I am not a male bird, nor do I have the skill to be owner of The Secret Saturdays.

At The Start

Zak Saturday wasn't that old, still a small child, but old enough to speak and make sense for the most part. Still, he was old enough to know it was silly. Silly to be upset that the blue and gray cryptid butterfly with black edging wouldn't land in his hands. Still, it did upset him.

Zak was a kind-hearted boy who took very much so after his mother, Drew. At the moment, Drew was examining some shrubbery surrounding the meadow little Zak was playing in. His father, Doc, was back on the airship examining Fiskerton's and Komodo's natural abilities.

But that darn cryptid butterfly, fluttering just out of reach, wouldn't land in his eager, outstretched hands. If only it would land, just for a second or two, so that his child-curiosity could be satisfied.

He concentrated really hard, feeling the cryptids mind-presence brush against his own. This was normal to him, a common thing. He assumed everyone could do it, sense cryptids. But he wanted to do more.

There, he felt it, a connection.

Drew smiled and turned around, her son's delighted laughter warming her heart.

She stopped dead, shocked. Zak's normally orange tinged brown eyes glowed a deep gold-orange that seemed to almost flow or flicker outwards. The cryptid butterfly's- a harmless species, Drew noted in relief- compound eyes glowed the same way. By her son's delighted expression and the normally shy creature sitting on Zak's hands, she knew it was her son doing it, not the cryptid.

"Look mommy, it landed in my hands!" little Zak said happily. He lost control of his power and the glow faded from the butterfly and himself. He didn't seem to mind much, except when the butterfly flapped its wings and flew away.

Zak grinned at his mother, full of childishness and innocence of youth. He saw nothing wrong or strange about what he just did, it was a part of him and it felt right to him that he could do that.

Drew smiled back tentatively and crouched down in front of her son. "How'd you do that sweetie?"

He scrunched his eyes and tried to search his young mind for a way to explain, but he didn't have enough words - if there were words - to explain this 'natural ability' of his.

As Drew listened to her son explain as best as he could, her mind was full of worried thoughts. Not why he could do this or what it meant - although she would later think these things and dismiss the questions when she can't find the answers - but more along the lines of questions full of motherly protection. Did his power hurt for him to use it? Would it eventually harm her son, her kind-hearted baby boy?

Does it scare him? Would it one day?

These questions would plague her mind in the dark of night for years to come. She would wonder - along with Doc - if this would bring trouble. If it would change their son.

Little did she know what the future held for her son.

Or what he would become.