The vision shattered as Zayd jerked awake, the alien symbols still crawling through his thoughts like ink swirling in water. He blinked while rubbing the gritty remnants of sleep from his eyes, and before he could even contemplate their meaning, violent tremors shook the entire house.
'What's going on?'
his bed shuddered beneath him, window frames rattled, books tumbled from the shelves, and furniture clattered against the floor.
His heart skipped a beat when his eyes saw the Mountain Lords board, teetering on the edge of the shelf.
"No!" he lunged forward from the bed. The floor pitched beneath him like a ship at the storm, sending him stumbling into his desk. He caught himself against the wood, desperately trying to reach the shelf, but another powerful tremor knocked him sideways.
He could only watch helplessly as the board toppled to the floor, It struck the ground with a crack that echoed through the chaos, the clay surface splitting clean down the middle, its carefully carved mountains and valleys now fractured into a ruined landscape. The white quartz and black obsidian pieces scattered across the floor.
His hands trembled as he knelt to pick up the fragments. His father had spent a long time crafting this board for his tenth birthday, meticulously carving every ridge and valley, grinding the stones until they gleamed. It wasn't merely a game —it was a connection to the quiet evenings they'd shared, teaching him the rules and strategies.
recently, it had become a source of joy with Nour. They'd spent countless time planning tactics and challenging each other. Now, the sight of it shattered sent an ache through his chest, as if he'd lost more than just a game.
"Zayd! Zayd!" his mother's call cut through his grief. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine!" He shouted back, trying to steady his voice.
"Come down — quickly!"
He gripped the stone handrail making his way down carefully as the house continued to shudder.
In the kitchen doorway, he saw his mother, Layla, her long dark hair swaying as tendrils of water danced in her palms as she focused on maintaining a web of water that cradled their ancient crystal chandelier - a family heirloom that had hung in their home for generations.
"The pottery" she called urgently, motioning toward a shelf where an antique pottery teetered dangerously close to the edge.
Zayd grabbed the kitchen counter, using it to steady himself as he made his way across the trembling floor. He lunged forward catching the piece just as it toppled. Catching it awkwardly in his hand as he dropped to the floor.
"Well done," Layla breathed, relief evident in her voice.
The front door burst open with a bang, and the tremors lessened significantly. Raed stood in the doorway, his presence somehow making the very ground beneath them more stable.
"Are you two alright?" he asked, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room. The tension in his voice hinted at the weight of responsibility he carried—not just for his family, but the entire village.
"We're fine," Layla replied as she carefully lowered the chandelier she had saved. "But these tremors — This doesn't feel like the work of some earth elementalist."
Raed's expression darkened. "I'll need to assess the situation before I can answer that."
"Let's head to the square. The whole village is gathering there."
Outside, the entire village of Hejaz had emptied into the streets. Children clung fearfully to their parents while the village elders positioned themselves at the four corners of the square, their hands pressed to the ground as they worked together to stabilize the shifting earth.
Chief Raed strode steadily to the center, he knelt, pressing his palms flat against the soil, closed his eyes, and concentrated on communing with the element he had mastered.
The earth responded immediately, crawling up his arms and legs encasing every inch of his body. He remained motionless like a stone statue for several long moments.
When the earthen shell finally crumbled away, his face was grave.
"These tremors aren't natural," he announced, his voice carrying across the gathering crowd.
"The disturbances extend far beyond my sensing range." He paused his gaze sweeping over the worried faces.
"They probably spanned the entire continent — perhaps the whole world."
"the whole world?" A gasp reverberated through the crowd, followed by nervous glances and hushed whispers. The baker's wife, her hands still dusted with flour, voiced what everyone feared.
"But what could cause something of this magnitude?"
"I'm not sure, Something must have disturbed the world's elemental balance," Raed admitted, then turned and met his wife's eyes. "An emergency council will convene immediately. Layla, I could use your insight as well."
She nodded then turned to Zayd and spoke with a gentle tone. "Can you help with the cleanup? Some of the elderly might need assistance."
"I'll do what I can." forcing steadiness into his voice despite his turbulent emotions.
As his parents left for the meeting, Zayd spent the morning helping wherever possible—moving fallen debris, helping elderly villagers clean up their homes, and assisting in reorganizing the marketplace. Some people welcomed his help, while most turned him away, their sideways glances and whispers about yesterday's ceremony still fresh and stinging.
Old Man Karim was different. He waved Zayd over. "Boy! Come help me with these fallen pots," he called gruffly, ignoring his daughter's protests.
"Elements or not, you can still be helpful with physical labor."
The work kept his mind busy, but the whispers followed him everywhere. Near the marketplace, a group of merchants didn't even bother to lower their voices.
"Look at the chief's son, working like a common laborer..."
"Better than hiding away in shame, I suppose."
"Still, what will happen to our village when..."
Their voices trailed off as he walked past, replaced by meaningful looks. He noticed the potter's shop in a mess, clay vessels scattered everywhere. As he approached to help, the potter's wife came out, her face hardening at the sight of him. She threw up her hands in a warding gesture.
"No, no! Stay back!" Her voice rose sharply, drawing the attention of nearby villagers. "I don't need help from someone rejected by the elements themselves! What if your bad luck ruins my husband's work?" She huffed, folding her arms and glaring at him. "Go find someone else to bother."
'damn hag.' Zayd's cheeks burned in embarrassment as he left the scene.
He focused on the tasks at hand, ignoring how a young mother pulled her child closer as he passed by. She seemed to catch herself, perhaps remembering his family position.
"Thank you," she said stiffly when he helped clearing the debris from her doorway.
"Your parents raised you well." She added with a forced smile.
The morning dragged on, each interaction reminding him of his new status in the village. Even kindness carried its own sting, like when the herbalist, Nadia, stopped him with a gentle hand.
"Some of my rare plants fell in the tremors," she said.
"Would you help me replant them? You've always had a careful touch with delicate things." Her kind words carried an undertone of pity that stung worse than outright rejection.
He focused on his work, finding small peace in lifting, clearing, and organizing. Physical labor was easier than lingering in the silence of his thoughts.
By the afternoon, the square had returned to a semblance of order. Zayd wiped the sweat from his brow and headed home. His muscles were sore from all the work.
As soon as he stepped inside, he smelled the delicious aroma of his mother's cooking, making his stomach growl in anticipation.
Layla turned from the stove, her expression softening when she saw him. "Welcome back, Zayd. You must be hungry after doing all that work on empty stomach."
"Yes," he said quietly, sliding into his chair at the table.
She placed a tray of food loaded with Earthshell Kebab, Sunscale Tagine, and a steaming bowl of Mountain Spice Stew.
"You've worked hard. Eat while it's hot."
He nodded, picking at a piece of flatbread. "Did the council learn anything?"
She sat across from him, pouring tea. "They received a message from the capital through the air transmission crystal. Your father was right—the tremors were felt all over the world, and they think Azarkos is the source. But that's all they know for now."
"Azarkos…" Zayd murmured, the name stirring something in his memory as his mind drifted to the strange dream.
'Could it be connected to the dream?'
"do you have a training session this evening?" Layla asked gently, studying him.
"Yes."
Her smile softened, though her eyes held a quiet determination. "Good. Even without earth element, training will make you stronger. Don't give up son. There's more to you than what that Orb showed."
Zayd's fingers tightened around his cup, but he nodded slightly. "I won't," he murmured, his voice quiet but firm.
As silence settled between them, Layla glanced at him once more but chose not to press further.
After lunch, he climbed the stairs to his room and froze in the doorway, surprised. The mess from the morning was gone — books back on shelves, floor swept clean, and there on the top of his desk sat his Mountain Lords board.
He walked closer, eyes wide. The board was whole again. He could still see where it had split, but the crack had been carefully sealed. A thin film of water still gleaming along the mended line. She must have fixed it while he was out helping in the village.
Warmth spread through his chest as he picked up one of the quartz pieces. His mother always knew exactly what he needed, whether it was fixing his broken game board or having a hot meal waiting after a hard morning.
'Thank you, Mom,' he thought, feeling guilty for not saying it earlier. He promised himself he wouldn't take her kindness for granted.
Lying back on his bed, he rolled the piece between his fingers, thinking about his dream — that strange tear in the sky, the darkness, those weird symbols. The tremors seemed too perfect to be just chance.
As his eyes grew heavy, questions swirled in his mind. The quartz piece slipped from his hand as sleep claimed him.