RUH: Volume 1 Chapter 2
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I was once a god—a being of supreme power in Olympus, where my word was law, my presence both a blessing and a curse to those beneath me. Commanding the armies of lesser gods, my very Essence surged through every fiber of my being, giving me strength beyond measure. It was Essence, the purest form of life, that guided my hand in battle and sharpened my resolve. Now, I am left with nothing but milk and swaddling cloths.
It's a cruel irony, stripped of all I once knew and reborn as a mortal. I don't remember much yet, just faint memories—a crumbling Olympus, the cries of war, the betrayal that shattered my world. Whoever caused this has reduced me to nothing more than a helpless babe, bound by the limits of mortal flesh.
For now, I am Enoch. I'm in a world of Awakens, where mortals wield Essence not through relentless mastery but by pure inheritance. These "Talents" are passed down, rather than earned. Strange. In Olympus, Essence was something you honed through years of battles, discipline, and willpower, but here it's as simple as bloodlines. I can still feel my own Essence—weak, buried deep, but it's there. I reach for it constantly, frustrated by the feebleness of this infant body.
In this life, I'm surrounded by a family gifted with Talents. My father, Felix, bears something called Tiger Veil—a talent that grants his body the durability of a tiger's hide, like the ancient guardians of Olympus. My mother, Claire, is blessed with the Guardian talent, a gentle yet powerful ability to heal. And my sister, Sicily, wields Telekinesis, a gift rare among mortals, allowing her to move objects with mere thought. She's inexperienced, yet even in her untrained movements, I see glimpses of a power that's all too familiar.
Claire tells me stories of the Awakening, a moment when Talents reveal themselves in mortals, a unique glow lighting up their eyes as they unlock their potential. It reminds me of the way Essence flickered to life in young gods, yet here it's a rite of birth, not conquest. There are countless Talents—some small, some awe-inspiring, each an echo of what I once mastered as a god.
One day, Claire carries me to the bustling marketplace near our town. Sunlight spills over the street as merchants hawk their wares—spices, food, finely crafted goods. My senses awaken to the scent of fresh bread mingling with the hum of town chatter. Around us, whispers drift about the waves, mysterious surges of creatures that have recently plagued the land. Waves? The word stirs something within me, a shadow of an ancient memory.
I wish I could ask Claire about these waves, but I am trapped within this feeble form. Still, she seems to sense my curiosity, a frown settling on her face. "Some say the waves are a warning," she murmurs softly, "others believe they're a punishment from the gods. The Talented are being summoned to defend the kingdom, to fight back whatever lurks in the depths."
Something stirs within me, a spark of indignation. In this new world of mortals and Talents, it appears the gods remain hidden, pulling strings from afar. I can't help but wonder—are they still the creators of this order? Or have they forsaken it, letting mortals handle the chaos?
As we move through the market, I observe the diverse beings around us—humans, elves with ethereal grace, dwarves bustling about, even creatures with a shimmer of magic clinging to their skin. This realm is vibrant, filled with life and color in ways I had forgotten to notice as a god. For now, I am only an infant here, yet a part of me swells with pride. This world may be foreign, but it is mine.
.
.
At three years old, I sit perched on the edge of a small wooden chair in the corner of our modest home. Outside, the world shimmers in the afternoon light, but my focus is locked on the weathered book in my lap. My fingers trace the faded illustrations of figures intertwined with a radiant energy—representations of the bond between Essence and Talents.
In this realm, Talents determine one's fate. They manifest as unique abilities, bestowed upon the worthy during a rite called the Awakening. It's a concept I'm beginning to understand deeply, though echoes of my old life remind me of a time when I wielded power that felt boundless. As I flip the pages, questions fill my mind. How can mortals handle such power so easily? The text, an ancient tome rich with theories, explains that Talents, while powerful, are raw and unrefined—a gemstone waiting to be polished. Essence, on the other hand, flows naturally, like a river guided by the strength of will.
"Enoch?" My mother's voice calls from the kitchen, pulling me from my thoughts. "It's time for your nap."
I sigh, reluctant to leave the book's world of knowledge. "Just a bit longer, Mother. I'm learning!"
She chuckles softly. "Learning is good, but rest is important, too." With a resigned sigh, I close the book, setting it aside.
As I stand, a faint pulse of energy flutters within me, like a long-dormant spark trying to ignite. It's warm, humming just beneath my skin. A thrill courses through me. Could this be what I think it is? I've read about the Awakening—the extraordinary moment when a Talent first surfaces, marking a child's first taste of real power.
"Enoch?" Claire calls again, this time with a bit more insistence.
I shuffle to the kitchen, where she's busy preparing a simple meal. The scent of herbs and spices fills the air, grounding me. Yet, the sense of something stirring within me lingers, a reminder that I might be on the brink of something transformative.
"What were you reading?" Claire asks, noticing my dazed expression.
"Just about Essence and Talents," I say, unable to contain a smile. "They're… more alike than I realized."
She nods thoughtfully. "Yes, Essence and Talents may be linked, but each Talent is unique to its bearer. One day, you'll learn to see your own path clearly."
As night falls, the house fills with soft laughter and stories. My father shares tales from his youth, recounting the awe and excitement of his own Awakening, and my sister Sicily listens wide-eyed, her lavender eyes gleaming. When it's finally time for bed, I lie awake, my mind racing. That energy, that warm pulse—it's still there. Could it be my own Talent waiting to surface?
In the quiet of the night, I close my eyes, focusing inward. I picture the Essence I once commanded—the way it flowed and responded to my will. If Talents truly share the same roots, maybe I can draw it out. "Essence…" I whisper to myself. "Talent."
Images flash in my mind—flames flickering, heat spreading, the crackling sound of fire. I imagine a spark igniting inside me, something small but with the potential to grow. My pulse quickens. What if this is my Awakening? What if I, too, have a Talent?
I concentrate harder, visualizing flames wrapping around me, blazing brightly. Suddenly, a warmth fills my chest and flows into my hand. My eyes fly open, and there, in the dim light, a faint ember flickers in my palm. A tiny flame, pulsing with life, as if it's a part of me.
"Fire…" I breathe, entranced by the glow. A wave of excitement rushes through me as I realize the significance of this moment. It's more than just a Talent—it feels like a piece of my old self returning.
The ember dances, lighting up the darkened room. I can't help but reach out to touch it, and in that instant, it flares brightly before fading. But the warmth lingers in my hand, a reminder of my own awakening power.
"Enoch?" Claire's voice calls, snapping me from my awe. Panic hits me, and I quickly close my hand, snuffing out the spark.
"Nothing, Mother! Just… playing," I reply, trying to mask the exhilaration in my voice.
"Playing, hmm?" she asks, a hint of amusement. "Well, save some energy for tomorrow—you have a big day ahead."
I nod, a smile tugging at my lips. Tomorrow. The thought fills me with anticipation. I'll show them. I'll show everyone.
When dawn breaks, I leap out of bed, my mind buzzing with the memory of last night. The flame, the warmth—it was real. I rush to find my parents, eager to share my revelation.
"Mother! Father!" I call, practically bursting with excitement.
Claire looks up, surprised by my energy. "Good morning, Enoch! You seem excited today."
"I have something to show you!" I say, unable to contain my grin.
Felix steps into the room, curiosity lighting up his face. "What is it, son?"
I hesitate, feeling the thrill of the secret I'm about to reveal. "I… I think I've awakened a Talent!"
My parents exchange a look of shock, then interest. "What sort of Talent?" Claire asks, her eyes wide.
"Fire!" I declare proudly. "I think I can summon fire!"
"Fire?" Felix's eyebrows shoot up, clearly impressed. "Well, let's see it, then."
Heart pounding, I close my eyes and concentrate, reaching for the warmth I'd felt the night before. I open my palm and wait, willing the flame to appear. For a moment, nothing happens, and doubt creeps in. But I refuse to give up.
I concentrate harder, summoning every ounce of energy. And then, as if in answer, a tiny flame flares to life in my hand, crackling softly.
"Enoch!" Claire gasps, a mixture of wonder and caution in her voice. "Be careful with that!"
Just as she speaks, the flame suddenly expands in a burst, catching us all off guard with a sudden, resounding
BOOM!!!
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