This was no accident. This was annihilation.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning wood and flesh. Screams pierced the night, only to be drowned out by cruel laughter. Raiders had swept through Kaelith with no warning, their crimson tattoos glowing like brands of hatred. Kaidan pressed himself against the charred remains of a house, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. His fingers clutched a blade not meant for battle—a farmer's tool, dulled with age and wear.
He'd seen destruction before. Flowcasters often left scars on the land when their magic ran unchecked. But this? This was deliberate, senseless slaughter. His hand trembled as he gripped the blade tighter. The instinct to run warred with something deeper inside him—a faint, chaotic pull that hummed beneath his skin.
The sound of approaching footsteps sent a chill racing down his spine.
"You see anyone left?" a rough voice growled nearby.
"Nah. Just ash and cowards," another voice answered, followed by a cruel laugh.
Kaidan's muscles coiled as the voices drew closer. His instincts screamed at him to hide, to let them pass, but something kept him rooted in place. The Flow stirred, a presence he'd always felt but never understood. It surged now, wild and unrestrained, as though responding to his fear.
The Flow responds to intention. The thought was not his own, but it settled in his mind like an undeniable truth. Kaidan steadied his breathing, willing himself to focus.
The raiders came into view, their crimson tattoos faintly illuminating the night. One of them, a hulking man with jagged scars and a cruel grin, spotted him. "Well, well. Look what we have here," he sneered. "Think you can stand against us, boy?"
Kaidan didn't answer. Words failed him as terror and anger clashed within. The raider raised his hand, the tattoo on his forearm blazing brighter. A pulse of crimson energy erupted from his palm, crackling through the air toward Kaidan.
Instinct took over. Kaidan raised his free hand, and the world seemed to slow. The Flow surged through him, unbidden and untamed. The air shimmered, and the pulse of energy froze inches from his face. His mismatched eyes glowed faintly as he redirected the attack with a flick of his wrist. The energy shot back toward its source, forcing the raider to dive aside.
"What the hell?" the man hissed, scrambling to his feet. His expression had shifted from arrogance to disbelief. "You're no ordinary villager."
Kaidan said nothing. He didn't understand what had just happened—only that the Flow had acted through him, wild and unchecked. The blade in his hand seemed to hum with power, heavier and sharper than before.
The fight that followed was a blur of motion and instinct. Kaidan's movements felt foreign, guided by something far greater than his understanding. The Flow coursed through him, weaving around his desperation and fear. Each step, each strike, felt impossibly precise, as though he had trained for years. The raiders' arrogance dissolved into panic as they faced a power they couldn't comprehend.
When the last raider fell—stunned but alive—Kaidan collapsed to his knees, his vision swimming. The Flow within him burned, wild and feral, threatening to consume him entirely. He clutched the ground, his breath ragged, as the world dimmed and faded into darkness.
The AwakeningKaidan woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the forest canopy. The ruins of Kaelith were a distant memory now, the acrid smell of smoke replaced by the crisp scent of earth and leaves. His body ached, every movement a reminder of the previous night's chaos.
The blade lay beside him, gleaming unnaturally clean despite the battle. Kaidan stared at it, unease twisting in his gut. What had he done? How had he survived? He'd seen Flowcasters before, their powers honed through years of training and discipline. But Kaidan had no teacher, no understanding of the forces he'd unleashed.
As he stood, his mismatched eyes caught a faint glimmer of light. Turning, he saw it—a shard of crystal embedded in a nearby tree. The shard pulsed faintly, its glow shifting between gold and black, as though alive.
Compelled by a force he couldn't explain, Kaidan reached out. His fingers brushed the shard's surface, and a surge of energy shot through him, searing and cold all at once. His vision went white, and suddenly he was no longer in the forest.
He stood in an endless void, where a massive crystal floated, fractured and broken. Its light pulsed erratically, casting long shadows over a crumbling world. Mountains collapsed, seas boiled, and the sky itself split apart. The devastation radiated outward, consuming everything in its path.
The vision ended as abruptly as it began. Kaidan fell back, gasping for air. The shard pulsed one last time before fading into nothingness. The Flow within him stirred again, quieter this time, but no less chaotic. Whatever the vision had shown him, it felt like a warning.
Kaidan clenched his fists, his mind racing. He was no hero, no savior. But something had chosen him, thrust him into a role he didn't understand. The Flow was both a gift and a curse, a power he couldn't yet control.
He looked to the horizon, where the sun rose over the distant hills. Somewhere beyond the forest lay answers—and, perhaps, the strength to face the storm that was coming.
With the blade at his side and the weight of destiny on his shoulders, Kaidan took his first step toward an uncertain future.
Expanded Passage: The Shard's VisionAs Kaidan fell back from the shard's glow, the vision lingered in fragments. The crystal in the void wasn't just broken; it seemed alive, its fractures bleeding light and shadow in equal measure. Around it, figures moved—indistinct and formless, yet filled with purpose. Their hands reached for the crystal, some to mend it, others to shatter it further.
A voice, deep and resonant, echoed in the void: "Balance is shattered. Choose your path, Flowcaster."
Kaidan blinked, his head throbbing as the vision faded completely. He didn't understand the message, but the weight of its importance pressed heavily on him. Whatever this crystal was, it wasn't just a warning—it was a call to action.