Days passed, but Eryx couldn't shake the feeling of restlessness that gnawed at him. The power that had stirred awake in him wasn't content with being hidden, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. Every morning, as he returned to the routine of his village life, the power pulsed quietly beneath the surface, waiting for a moment to break free.
The villagers hadn't noticed the change in him—not yet. To them, Eryx was still the same boy who worked the fields, joked with his friends, and went about his daily chores. But inside, he felt like a dam on the verge of bursting. The quiet life he had known all his years suddenly seemed small and suffocating, like he no longer belonged to it.
It was late one afternoon when everything began to unravel.
Eryx was in the village square, gathering supplies for his family. He moved through the market with practiced ease, greeting familiar faces and exchanging pleasantries, though his mind was far away. He hadn't returned to the forest since the night his powers had awakened, fearing that doing so might only deepen the mystery of what was happening to him.
But even as he tried to push it from his thoughts, the power stirred.
He was reaching for a bundle of herbs at the market stall when he felt it—a sharp jolt, like a current running through his body. Eryx froze, his hand hovering just above the herbs as his vision blurred. The bustling sounds of the market seemed to fade, replaced by a deep, rhythmic hum that thrummed in his ears. His heart raced as the energy inside him flared to life, more insistent than ever before.
The world around him seemed to shift, the colors deepening, the sounds warping as if time itself were slowing. The people in the market moved sluggishly, unaware of the strange occurrence unfolding. For a moment, Eryx felt as though he were detached from everything, floating in a strange liminal space where nothing made sense.
Then, just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped.
Eryx blinked, gasping for breath. The market was back to normal—the chatter, the clatter of carts, the smells of food and earth. No one seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, but Eryx knew that what he had just experienced was real. The power inside him was growing stronger, slipping out of his control.
He hurried through the rest of his errands, trying to calm the growing panic in his chest. Every step he took felt heavy, as though something was pulling him toward an inevitable conclusion. When he finally made his way back to the house, his mother noticed the tension in his face.
"Eryx? What's wrong?"
He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. How could he explain to her the weight of what he felt inside? How could she possibly understand? He shook his head, muttering something about being tired, and escaped to his room before she could press further.
As night fell and the quiet of the village settled over the land, Eryx couldn't sleep. He lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing. The power was growing, whether he wanted it to or not. If he didn't do something, it would consume him—he was sure of it.
Suddenly, a faint knock at his window pulled him from his thoughts. Eryx sat up, his heart pounding as he crossed the room to peer through the small opening. Standing outside, bathed in the silver light of the moon, was a figure cloaked in shadow.
For a brief moment, fear gripped him, but something about the figure seemed familiar. He pushed the window open and leaned out. "Who's there?"
The figure stepped into the light, revealing an old man, his face lined with age, but his eyes sharp and clear. Eryx recognized him immediately—Lorian, the village's elder and keeper of its ancient stories.
"You've been restless, boy," Lorian said, his voice a low rumble, as if it carried the weight of centuries. "I've been waiting for this day."
Eryx's breath caught in his throat. "What are you talking about?"
"The power you feel. It is not by chance that it has awakened now. It's time you learned the truth, Eryx. Come with me."
Eryx hesitated, but something in Lorian's tone made it impossible to refuse. He threw on his cloak and climbed out the window, following the elder into the night. They walked in silence, the village behind them growing smaller as they ventured toward the edge of the forest.
After what felt like hours, Lorian finally stopped at the mouth of an old cave hidden deep within the forest's shadows. The air around it was thick with an energy that made the hair on Eryx's arms stand on end. It was the same energy he had felt when his powers first awakened.
"What is this place?" Eryx asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Lorian turned to him, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "This is where it all began. The gods… and those who came before them. Long ago, they walked among us, but that time has passed. Now, only their echoes remain. But you, Eryx, you carry their spark within you."
Eryx's mind reeled. The stories of the gods had always seemed like myths, ancient tales to pass the time by the fire. But standing here, in the presence of something so ancient, he could no longer deny the truth. "Why me? Why now?"
Lorian smiled, a sad and knowing expression. "Because fate has chosen you. The gods do not meddle in mortal affairs lightly. You are the key to something much greater, something that has been set in motion for centuries. But with that power comes a choice—a great burden."
Eryx felt the weight of Lorian's words settle on his shoulders. "What kind of choice?"
"To embrace your destiny, or to run from it. But know this: the power inside you will not be denied. You can try to hide from it, but it will only grow stronger. The question is not if you will use it, but how."
The wind stirred the leaves around them, and for a moment, Eryx thought he could hear whispers in the air. Whispers of fate. Of gods long forgotten.
Lorian's gaze bore into him. "Are you ready to learn what it means to be more than just a man, Eryx?"
Eryx took a deep breath, his mind spinning with fear, curiosity, and a strange sense of inevitability. He knew there was no going back now.
"I'm ready," he whispered, though his heart raced with uncertainty.
With that, Lorian turned toward the cave's entrance. "Then let us begin."