The low, rumbling call of the morning bell stirred me from sleep, vibrating through the stone walls of our cottage like a gentle pulse. I sat up, brushing the sleep from my eyes as dawn's light filtered through the window's worn shutters, casting soft, golden stripes across the walls. Another day in Dawnveil, as ordinary as any other, yet every part of me felt alive with an itch for something… more.
I dressed quickly, grabbing my worn tunic and boots, their soles nearly smooth from years of trudging over cobblestone and dirt. My mother's voice floated up the stairs from the kitchen, a melody that wove through the quiet morning.
"Raemir!" she called, the words warm and familiar. "Are you coming down?"
"On my way!" I replied, smoothing down my shirt and trying to tame my mess of dark hair. I took a final glance at my small, cluttered room, eyes lingering on the worn knick-knacks and tools I'd picked up over the years. Things I had collected from the nearby forest, coins I'd found half-buried near the village square, broken trinkets from traveling merchants that I somehow never found the heart to toss away.
When I reached the kitchen, the smell of fresh bread greeted me, and my mother, hands dusted with flour, grinned as I stepped in. "Up early today, I see," she noted with an approving nod.
"Couldn't sleep. That bell sounds like it's getting louder by the day."
"It's likely just you growing tired of the routine," she teased, handing me a steaming slice of bread with a generous spread of honey. "And what's this talk about sleeping poorly? You'd be the only seventeen-year-old in Dawnveil to say so."
I grinned, taking a bite as I leaned back against the counter. "Sometimes I get this… strange feeling. Like I'm waiting for something, even though I don't know what it is."
She chuckled, brushing a stray lock of gray hair from her face. "Waiting for the cows to start talking, perhaps? Or the river to run with milk instead of water?"
Her words made me laugh, though there was a flicker of something in her gaze—a shadow of concern, perhaps? But before I could ask, she turned her back to continue preparing breakfast, humming the tune she always hummed in the mornings.
Breakfast was short and quiet. My mother, ever the village's unofficial healer, had places to be, and I had my tasks to tend to. I spent the morning hauling sacks of grain to the mill, helping old Mr. Hadwick repair the wheel of his cart, and then chopping wood just outside the edge of the forest. The day was bright and warm, with just enough of a breeze to keep the air from feeling heavy, and by noon I was covered in a healthy mix of dirt and sweat.
That's when I heard it. A sound, different from the usual rustle of leaves and hum of insects. It was like… a whisper. It started faint, barely there, but as I stilled, it grew clearer. Like someone calling my name in the distance.
"Raemir…"
I straightened, glancing around, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest. "Hello?" I called, feeling ridiculous for talking to the air.
Nothing answered, but the forest seemed to shift, the trees swaying in a breeze I couldn't feel. I brushed it off, blaming my overactive imagination and resumed my work. Yet, the whisper lingered in the back of my mind all day, even as I returned to the village and helped my mother gather herbs for her medicines. She noticed me glancing over my shoulder more than once, eyebrows raised each time.
"Is something troubling you, Raemir?"
"Just… hearing things, I think," I replied, trying to laugh it off. But her expression darkened just slightly, enough to make me wonder if she knew more than she was letting on.
She let the subject drop, and I did my best to do the same. Still, as the day went on, the strange feeling only grew stronger, like a shadow creeping through the edges of my mind.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, the whisper's echo looping through my head. Just when I thought I'd finally drift off, a strange, piercing sensation tore through me, like an electric shock. I bolted upright, heart racing, my skin tingling. In the dark, I saw nothing—nothing but shadows, the familiar shapes of my room cloaked in moonlight. Yet something felt… wrong.
That's when I noticed the glow.
Faint and silvery, it pulsed under my skin, just at the edge of my wrist. I watched in a mix of horror and fascination as it spread, tracing veins like threads of light across my arm. I scrambled to my feet, breathing hard as I stumbled to the small mirror on the wall. What I saw wasn't… *me*—not the me I knew. My eyes looked brighter, my skin held an otherworldly shimmer that faded as quickly as it came.
I shook my head, clenching my fists, and the glow retreated like a waking dream.
The whisper returned, louder now, clear enough that I could swear it came from the other side of my window. Without thinking, I threw on my boots and cloak and slipped out into the night.
The village was quiet, everyone else deep in sleep, but the forest… the forest felt awake. I followed the whisper, each step instinctual, like I was moving through a memory instead of a strange midnight venture. The path twisted and curved, but my feet knew it, as if they'd walked this way a thousand times before.
After a few minutes, I found myself in a small clearing bathed in silver moonlight. In the center stood a stone I'd never seen before, covered in strange carvings, almost glowing under the moon's watchful gaze. I reached out a tentative hand, brushing my fingers over its cold surface, feeling a hum reverberate from the stone into my bones.
As I touched it, an image flashed across my mind—a woman dressed in silken robes, her gaze solemn and her hands clasped around a crown. She looked at me with eyes so familiar I almost choked. But it wasn't my mother. No… it was someone else, someone who felt like a piece of me.
"Who… who are you?" I whispered, my voice catching.
The woman's lips parted, her voice soft, yet it rang clear in the night air. "Raemir, it is time you remember."
I stumbled back, a chill racing down my spine. "Remember what?"
But the vision faded, leaving only the whisper lingering in my mind. A strange sense of loss settled over me, like I'd let something slip through my fingers without knowing what it was.
A soft rustle behind me made me turn sharply. My mother stood there, her expression unreadable, cloaked in her night robes. For a moment, we just stared at each other, a silence thick and tense stretching between us.
"How did you…?" I stammered, unsure how to ask the dozens of questions racing through my mind.
She stepped forward, her eyes darting to the stone, then back to me. "I was wondering when this day would come," she murmured, more to herself than to me. "You weren't meant to find out like this."
"What… what's going on? Who am I?"
She hesitated, her eyes softening with a sadness I didn't understand. "There's so much I've kept from you, Raemir. Not out of cruelty, but because I wanted you to live a life without burdens."
I stepped back, the stone's carvings pressing into my skin. "Tell me. Tell me everything."
Her gaze held mine, steady yet filled with a sorrow so profound it cut me to the bone. "You are my son, Raemir. But you were not born of Dawnveil. You were born in a castle far from here, a place I left behind for your sake." Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. "You were born of royalty, and I… I was once sworn to protect you."
The weight of her words sank into me, too heavy to process all at once. Born of royalty? Me? But everything I knew—my life here, my place in the village, my friends—none of it spoke of anything noble or grand.
"Why would you hide that from me?" I demanded, though my voice cracked with emotion. "Why would you… lie?"
She reached for my hand, holding it tight, her expression resolute. "Because, Raemir, being born into power is a double-edged sword. The enemies your family had—they would've stopped at nothing to get to you. Here in Dawnveil, you were safe. Here, you could be free."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, the certainty in her eyes leaving no room for doubt. Suddenly, all those strange feelings, the whispers, the visions—it was as if my entire life had been woven with threads I hadn't even noticed, each one tying me to something bigger, something I'd been shielded from.
"Then… what am I supposed to do now?" I asked, feeling a mix of awe and terror.
She took a breath, casting one last, wary glance at the stone. "Now, you must decide if you're ready. Ready to face what lies beyond this quiet life." Her fingers tightened around mine, and I saw the faint glisten of tears in her eyes. "And you must know, whatever path you choose… you'll never walk it alone."
I looked past her, beyond the shadows of the forest, a new sense of purpose swelling in my chest. I didn't have all the answers, not yet. But something inside me had awakened, a spark that refused to be dimmed.