The lake was calm, its surface a sheet of silver fog under the dying light. The wind whispered through the town called idk yet
Idk yet sat beside a glassy lake that fed its people and lulled them into comfort. For over a century, the waters had given—fish, trade, and peace.
They've said the the town had been blessed by the gods untouched by war, disease, or elemental affinity. For over a decade , not a single child had shown any signs. That was normal. That was safe.
Rin lived in a home that smelled of baked bread and old wood, with two people who were not his blood, but who loved him fiercely. Kenya, the broad-shouldered father who fished and hunted by day. Riku, kind and soft-spoken, baked with hands that knew only to nurture
He was grateful for them—for this life. After all, they had taken him in as a newborn, left swaddled in silence on their doorstep. Riku often said his parents had been friend of theirs. And they vanished without a trace.
He didn't ask much more than that.
He had a birthmark on his ankle, spiraling like a serpent devouring its own tail. and around his neck, he wore an amulet. It had once been white, but the color had been bleeding from it over the years, like something inside it was dying.
Despite his weak body, Rin kept to his chores without complaint. Walks with Kenya. Morning prep with Riku. The air always hung heavy with pine, lake water, and the warm scent of rising bread.
The sun rose slower, as though reluctant to touch the town. Mitsu, the gossipy innkeeper, had whispered of strange men cloaked in silence checking into her inn at night.
And worse: the Trials of Chaos would begin in 9 months. Boys and girls aged fourteen would be tested for elemental ties—connections to ancient, sleeping powers that even the most revered kings feared.
Rin had heard of them, but only in passing. Only after completing a brutal test of courage would the boys and girls be given the ability to wield these powers. Elemental Affinities were rare, bound to bloodlines touched by gods, old relics, or forced into the body through rare elixirs. Most people in small towns like this would never see such things.
So, the townsfolk laughed the whispers off. But not Rin.
Although he was quiet his curiosity was as loud as a drum.
That night, Rin fell asleep with a book in his hand the sound of water lapping gently against the docks were far too rhythmic
He dreamt of a forest, endless and emerald, humming with life. The leaves above glowed faintly, like veins filled with starlight. He walked forward, not by choice but compulsion. Something was calling.
Then he heard it—a voice, not speaking but singing. Soft. Ancient. Female.
He followed the sound until he found her. A girl, perched on a high rock beside a stream. White-haired. Skin like moonlight. A butterfly balanced on her finger like it knew her.
He stepped forward. A branch cracked beneath his foot.
She turned. Smiled.
Then ran.
"Wait!" he cried out, his voice young and weak . "Please, I'm lost!"
But before he could chase, before he could breathe, a voice—low and cold—whispered in his mind:
"It begins now."
The sky split.
A bolt of lightning, white as bone, struck him.
And the world turned to pure darkness
He woke choking and gasping for air.
Sweat clung to his skin. His heart galloped in his chest. He stared at his trembling hands, there the amulet was
A crack ran across its surface.
Faint but noticeable
He stared.
He didn't know why, but it terrified him.
Downstairs, Riku called out, "Come eat, Rin. Dinner's ready!"
He hesitated. Touched the amulet again. It felt cold and the light was dimmer than before.
His light feet began to descend the wooden steps like a ghost.
He sat wordlessly.
"Where's Father?" he asked, voice low.
"Should be coming back from fishing soon," she replied.
Then, softer: "You look unwell. Are you getting sick?"
He paused.
The dream still clung to his bones.
She then says Rin you know you get sick easily keep your window closed at night
"No, mother. I just had a dream. I feel tired because of it."
She gave him a worried glance, but said only:
"Okay. Eat up first, then head to bed."
"Yes, mother… thank you for the meal."
Later, after dinner, Rin returned to his room. He placed his books in their proper order—precise, calming. The lamplight flickered, casting shifting shadows on the floorboards.
Then it came.
"Why did you not tell her?"
The voice was loud. Everywhere. Yet Nowhere all at the same time .
His body froze. The book slipped from his hands, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
He drops to his knees, eyes widen, breathing heavily as his muscles began to tense.
The voice began to speak again
"You hesitated. How come?"
His pulse pounded.
He wasn't dreaming anymore.
Something had seen him.
Something had followed him back.