Chris NightOwl's Arc

Chapter 2 of 4

Chris landed in the hemp field at dawn, still glowing. He had flown all night and learned nothing about why. The powers came from the red moon. That much he felt. But feeling was not knowing. He needed answers, and he knew one place that pointed straight at the sky. On the far edge of town stood a tall stone tower, wound with spiral stairs. A giant telescope sat at its top, aimed at the heavens. If anyone had watched the moon change, it was whoever kept that telescope. He walked there instead of flying. He didn't want to be seen. The tower door hung open. Chris climbed the winding steps past narrow windows full of colored glass. His heart pounded, though the climb was easy now. At the top, an old man bent over the eyepiece of the great telescope. He was thin and stooped, with white hair and ink-stained fingers. He did not turn around. "You run warm," the old man said. "I felt you three floors down." He straightened and looked at Chris's hands. The starlight still ran along them. He nodded, as if he had expected this face for years. "The red moon marked you. I've watched it climb every night. It doesn't give gifts for free." Chris stepped closer. "You know what happened to me." "I know what the moon is," the old man said. He tapped the brass tube. "It wakes power in a chosen few. And it wakes something else. Something that sleeps under this town." He met Chris's eyes. "You feel it, don't you. Pulling toward you." Chris's stomach dropped. "Yes. Since the first night." "Then listen close." The old man gripped Chris's wrist. His hand was cold against the heat. "The power is filling you faster than you can hold it. Soon it will burn through you, or you'll lose control at the worst moment. You need something to steady it." "What?" Chris asked. The old man pointed west, past the windows. "There is a dungeon below the ground, close to your own house. Old stone, older than Owlroost. Inside it rests an amulet. Wear it, and your power will answer you instead of ruling you." His grip tightened. "But the thing beneath the town guards that ground. Every hour you wait, it wakes further." Chris pulled his arm free. His hands glowed brighter now, humming, almost painful. He understood the old man was right. He could feel the power straining, like water behind a cracked wall. "How do I find it?" Chris asked. "You'll know the door," the old man said. "It hums like you do." Chris turned and ran down the spiral stairs. He had come for answers and gotten worse ones. The power would break him unless he found the amulet. And to reach it, he would have to dig toward the very thing that wanted him. He flew home fast, and the ground below seemed to pull at him the whole way.