Mori Starweaver's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Mori Starweaver wanted to bind a star. Tonight he could not even hold a spark. He stood inside the hollowed meteor crater, a bowl of dark, pitted stone that had swallowed fire once and could swallow it again. Thin veins of light crawled through the cracked walls. He had come here because these walls had already survived a falling sky. If his magic broke loose, the stone would take it, not the village. He raised both hands and pulled cosmic power up from his chest. It came too fast. Light spat from his fingers in white threads. The threads whipped sideways, cracked the air, and struck the stone throne at the crater's heart. Sparks burst across the seat. Mori clenched his fists to choke the flow. The power fought him. Heat climbed his arms until his skin stung and his teeth ached. He knew the truth in that pain. To pull a living star into himself, he needed a river of this fire. Right now, a trickle nearly cooked him alive. He let go. The light snapped back into him like a slapped whip, and he dropped to one knee, gasping. His palms had gone red and raw. He could not master the rite while his own raw power still bucked like this. He needed a steadier way to hold it. Slow footsteps scraped behind him. A huge, stooped figure filled the crater's mouth. Stone grave markers hung strapped across his broad back, one for each of Quillwood's dead. Aldric the keeper carried the whole village's grief on his spine. Mori had watched him bury people who tried powers too big for them. "You'll be my next stone," Aldric said. His voice was low and cracked. He did not come closer. "I've cut markers for mages who grabbed the sky. Their hands looked like yours before the end." Mori pushed himself upright. "Then teach me to hold it, or bury me. I won't stop." Aldric studied the burned throne. Then he shrugged off one marker and set it upright on the crater floor. He pressed Mori's raw palm flat against the cold stone. "Push your fire into this, not into yourself," Aldric said. "The dead already carry weight. Let the stone carry yours." Mori doubted it. But he pulled the power up again, slower this time, and pushed it down through his arm into the marker. The light poured into the stone instead of scattering. The grave marker glowed from within, steady and even. His skin did not burn. For the first time, the fire held. He could feel it waiting, obedient, ready to reach for something far larger. The marker cracked down its center with a sharp snap. Its light went dark. Aldric stared at the ruined stone, then at Mori. "It held your fire," Aldric said quietly. "A star will break it in a heartbeat. You'll need something that doesn't die."