The Awakening

The wind howled over the hills like it mourned with him.

Michael stood at the edge of the field where Gian once taught him to plant wheat, sword in hand, blood still caked to the grip. The farmhouse was silent. Empty.

Gian was gone.

But the fire in Michael’s chest hadn’t cooled since.

His fingers twitched against the twin hilts. The dragon blades hummed softly on his back — not just tools now, but alive, reacting to his grief, to his rage, to something ancient stirring within him.

He remembered Gian’s final breath:

> “Find the old woman at Kalem ruins…”

“Vita tua… non est tua…”

(Your life… is not your own.)

Michael tied the swords tighter across his back and walked away from the only home he had ever known.

---

The world beyond the farms was colder, stranger. Creatures watched him from the trees — eyes glowing green, lips whispering sounds not meant for human ears. He passed rusted mech towers half-swallowed by roots and rivers that whispered names he didn’t recognize.

At night, he slept under broken moons.

In the morning, the frost on his skin refused to melt.

The power within him was stirring. And it terrified him.

---

🪨 The Kalem Ruins

They stood like the skeleton of a forgotten god — cracked marble arches and floating stones swirling with glowing runes. Lightning danced across the tips of the ruins, yet the air was silent.

Michael stepped cautiously toward the center, where a woman sat cross-legged before a black pool.

Old. Blind. Skin like withered bark.

“You are late,” she croaked without turning.

Michael stiffened. “You knew I was coming?”

“I saw you… before you were born.”

Her pale eyes opened — fully white. Empty… and yet full of something cosmic.

“You carry the blades of the twin wyrms… fire and frost… blood and breath…”

Michael stepped forward. “You knew my father. Tell me who I am.”

She ignored the demand.

Instead, she spoke slowly, in Latin:

> “Dracones antiquae — sanguis eorum in te vivit.”

(The blood of ancient dragons lives within you.)

Michael's heart pounded.

“What does that mean?”

She dipped her fingers into the dark water. Visions rippled across the surface — flames engulfing a city… an army of armored giants… a boy, glowing with light, suspended between worlds.

“You are not from this world. You were sent here to hide. But the seal is breaking.”

“Seal?” Michael whispered. “You mean this scar?”

He lifted his shirt. The mark on his back — the blue-and-red symbol — was glowing faintly.

“Not a scar,” the Seer said. “A lock. Meant to keep your true self asleep.”

Michael looked down at the pool. “Why me?”

The water stilled. Her voice turned soft.

“Because the last time someone like you awakened… a continent burned.”

---

The air shifted. The Seer froze.

“They found you.”

A blur leapt from the mist — cloaked in shadow, wielding twin black daggers. No face. No voice. Just death.

Michael turned, swords drawn in a single flash. The creature moved like smoke, fast — too fast.

The first slash grazed Michael’s cheek.

The second — he caught with his ice blade, shattering the dagger with a metallic shriek.

The attacker hissed. Its body twisted, melting into a swarm of shadow-wolves that circled him.

Michael’s hands shook.

“Stay calm,” the Seer said behind him. “Let the blades speak.”

Michael closed his eyes.

The fire blade blazed. The ice blade froze the earth. Together, they pulsed — and Michael became a storm.

He moved like instinct. No fear. No hesitation.

Flame roared from his left. Ice erupted from his right. Shadow met light.

He didn’t know what he was doing — but the swords did.

When the smoke cleared, the wolves were gone.

Michael stood panting, hands trembling.

The Seer approached him slowly.

“Your power has awakened. But it is wild. Uncontrolled. If you do not master it…”

She touched the scar again.

“…it will consume you.”

---

Michael knelt, exhausted. “What now?”

“You must go to the Ruins of Arderyn — across the Scorched Wastes. There, you will find the truth about your kind… and the war you were born into.”

“Alone?”

“No,” the Seer said. “One watches you already. A girl of fire in her heart.”

Michael thought of Elisa.

The Seer turned, beginning to fade into smoke. Her final words echoed around the stones:

> “In tenebris lucet veritas…”

(In darkness, truth shines.)

Michael stood alone, the twin blades humming on his back, a storm on the horizon.

He didn’t know what lay ahead.

But he knew one thing for certain:

There was no going back.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***