Calil's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

For three nights, Calil woke to fire behind his eyes. He was a golden-skinned man with silver curls and sharp elven ears, and the tribal marks on his face had never itched before now. But his yellow eyes burned. Tonight the pain cut deeper than steel. He pressed his palms to his face and groaned. A prophecy spoken at his birth promised power sleeping behind these eyes. He had waited his whole life to feel it wake. This did not feel like a gift. It felt like his skull was splitting. He rolled off his mat and stumbled outside. His home stood at the base of a great waterfall, one of many weathered stone houses long abandoned. The spray misted his skin. His pathways were empty and silent, as they always were. He was the only soul left in the ruined hamlet. A low rumble answered his pain. His red tiger padded from the shadows, mane bristling, single yellow eye fixed on him. The beast pressed its huge head against his chest. Calil gripped its fur to stay upright. "It's worse," he whispered. "Every night, worse." Then a voice came from the dark path. "Because you keep running from it." An old woman stepped into the moonlight. She was small, wrapped in a purple robe stitched with stars and crescent moons. She leaned on a crooked staff of pale wood. Her eyes were blank white, yet Calil felt her looking straight through him. The tiger did not growl. It lowered its head instead. Calil knew her. She was the oracle who had stood at his birth. She had spoken the prophecy while his mother wept. He had not seen her since he was a child. "All-Seeing Al," he said. "You did this to me." "No." She came closer. "The power did. It's awake now, Calil. It claws at the door because you keep it shut." She raised her staff and touched it to his brow. The burning flared white-hot. He cried out. "You feel the pain because you resist. Stop resisting." "How?" he gasped. "Open your eyes and truly see. Name the fire as yours." Calil's knees buckled. He knelt on the wet stone. He thought of the empty houses, the silence, the years alone waiting for a destiny that only hurt. He was done waiting. He stopped clenching. He let the fire come. Light burst from his eyes. It poured over the ruins in twin gold beams. For one breath, he saw everything: cracks in stone, roots under earth, the tiger's heartbeat, and far beyond, shapes moving toward the falls. Then the pain vanished. His eyes cooled. He stood, shaking but whole. The oracle's face was grave. "The burning is gone," Calil said. "You cured it." "I woke it," she said. "And now that it shines, others will come for it. They saw that light too." She turned toward the dark path. "They are already coming."