38: kira is Marked
They discovered her in the shrivel, a place of eerie beauty where no fire had ever touched. The trees stood like skeletal sentinels, their white bark glowing like bone in the fading light. The leaves rustled not at all, not even in the gentle breeze, as if they were mere ghosts of leaves. The shrivel was a place of reverence, a sacred site where the veil between the mortal world and the realm of the gods was thin.
Legend had it that the Moon Goddess herself protected this shrivel, watching over it with a fierce devotion. It was a place where prayers could echo through the veil, where the faithful could reach out to the divine. The shrivel was a sanctuary, a refuge from the world's turmoil. No mortal blood had ever been spilled there, no flame had ever scorched its soil.
But now, all that had changed. The silence of the shrivel was shattered, its sacred soil defiled. The tranquility of the shrivel was disrupted, and the very fabric of the place seemed to be torn apart. The discovery they made there would change everything, shattering the peace and setting in motion a chain of events that would have far-reaching consequences.
The First Spake
Kira had ventured into the shrivel alone, accustomed to the solitude that came with her unique heritage. Her mother had been a High Voice of the Dawn Choir, a revered position that connected her to the divine. In contrast, her father was a mortal blacksmith who forged godsteel without prayer, a stark difference from her mother's spiritual role. Kira's existence was a blend of these contradictions - a mix of divine spark and earthly dirt. She was a walking fracture between worlds, a being of conflicting energies.
As a result, Kira had always felt different. She burned with an inner light, a spark that set her apart from others. She felt heavier, as if she carried a weight that others didn't. Despite this, she had grown accustomed to her solitary nature, often finding comfort in the quiet.
But on this particular evening, something drew her to the shrivel. It wasn't a voice or a sound, but a weight, a thread coiled in her spine that tugged her toward the grove. The air grew colder than it should have been for spring, and then it seemed to split. Not with a sound, but with a feeling - as if the sky above her had torn open, revealing the stars behind it.
The wind reversed its direction, and then the flame erupted. It didn't come from any external source, but from within Kira's own shadow. The flame was jet-black, with deep blue veins that pulsed like a living thing. It curled around her, searing the ground in patterns that defied language. The flame didn't touch her skin, but it branded her soul, leaving an indelible mark.
Kira fell to her knees, her hands outstretched as the flame wrapped around her arms, across her chest, and into her eyes. "I am not yours," she whispered, though she didn't know to whom she was speaking. The flame ignored her plea, continuing to claim her as its own. And when it finally subsided, it left its mark on Kira, a mark that would change her forever.
When it Was Over
When the flame finally subsided, Kira rose slowly to her feet. Her skin was unmarked, without any visible burns or scars. However, something strange and wondrous glowed beneath her skin, as if her veins were filled with a soft, starry light. On her forearm, a symbol had appeared, burning with a light that didn't seem to produce any heat.
The symbol was unlike anything Kira had ever seen before. It was a spiral shape, split by a jagged vertical line, and rimmed with inverted runes that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy. Despite never having seen the symbol before, Kira knew exactly what it meant. She had been claimed, marked for a purpose that she couldn't fully understand.
The symbol seemed to signify that Kira was now a bridge, a beacon, and a door. But it wasn't the gods who had claimed her - it was something far older and more mysterious. Whatever this entity was, it seemed to have chosen Kira for a specific role, and she was left to wonder what that role might be.
As Kira gazed at the symbol, she felt a sense of anxiety over the uncertain future mixed with curiosity. What did it mean to be claimed by something older than the gods? What kind of power or responsibility came with this mark? And what lay ahead for her now that she had been chosen for this mysterious purpose? She asked herself so many questions with no response to them.
Far Away, In a distant location, in the Stonewrought Vale, Kaian suddenly sat up from his sleep, his breathing labored. Mia, who was resting beside him under a cliffside overhang, stirred awake. "What is it?" she asked, concern etched on her face.
Kaian didn't respond immediately. Instead, he gazed up at the sky, his eyes fixed on some unseen point. It was as if he was seeing something that wasn't visible to the naked eye. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low and measured. "The flame's been lit," he said.
Mia looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. But Kaian's next words sent a shiver down her spine. "But it's not from the gods," he said. "It's from... before." The phrase hung in the air, heavy with implication. Kaian's words suggested that something ancient and powerful had been awakened, something that predated the gods themselves.
Mia's eyes locked onto Kaian's, searching for answers. What did he mean? What kind of flame could be lit that wasn't from the gods? And what did it portend for their world? Kaian's words had raised more questions than answers, and Mia knew that they would have to dig deeper to understand the significance of this event.
In the Deep Beyond, in a realm beyond the physical world, a place that existed outside of the normal bounds of space, the Primitives began to stir. These ancient, powerful beings didn't communicate in words, but their thoughts sent ripples through the fabric of reality, like storms brewing behind a fragile glass wall.
The Primitives sensed that one of the divine line, a being with a connection to the gods, now bore a flame. This flame was a key part of a larger process, one that would awaken a bridge between different realms. The Primitives knew that soon, a gate would recognize the name of the one who bore the flame, and this would set in motion a chain of events that would have far-reaching consequences.
The stirring of the Primitives was a sign that something fundamental was shifting in the universe. The awakening of the bridge and the recognition of the gate would mark the beginning of a new era, one that would be shaped by forces both ancient and powerful. The Primitives awareness of these events hinted at a deeper purpose, one that would unfold in ways both subtle and profound.
Kira Watching the Moon
Kira sat in the shrivel, watching the moon rise high in the sky. She remained there until the trees, which had been silent and still during the dramatic event, began to whisper to each other once more. The flame that had erupted from her shadow had gone out, but its mark remained, a symbol of something profound and irreversible.
In the stillness of the shrivel, Kira felt a sense of clarity wash over her. She realized that what had just happened was not a matter of being chosen by some higher power or destiny. Instead, she had been targeted, marked for a specific purpose that was not of her own making.
The weight of this realization settled heavily on Kira's shoulders. She knew that nothing in the world - no temple, no god, no seer or wise person - could undo what had just happened. The mark on her arm was a sign of a new reality, one that would shape her life and her future in ways she was only beginning to understand.
As she sat there, the moon's gentle light casting shadows on the ground, Kira felt a sense of responsibility, caught up with determination. She knew that she would have to navigate this new reality, to find out what it meant to be targeted and what lay ahead for her. The stillness of the shrivel seemed to hold a sense of anticipation, as if the trees and the land itself were waiting to see what would happen next.