Kieran woke to a sharp pain in his chest, a burning sensation that shot through his veins like wildfire. The forest around him seemed impossibly still, the rain having ceased hours ago, leaving the world in an eerie silence. His mind felt hazy, as though a fog had settled over it, but beneath the confusion, there was something else—something dark and ancient, stirring deep within him.
He tried to push himself up, but his limbs were heavy, like they no longer belonged to him. His fingers brushed against the cold earth, the soil thick with moisture. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one sending a jagged pain through his ribs. He felt no hunger, no thirst—only a deep, aching emptiness that seemed to permeate every part of his being.
"Why am I still here?" Kieran whispered again, his voice hoarse and cracked, but this time, the question felt different. It was as if something had heard him, something that had been waiting for him to speak, to acknowledge its presence. The feeling in his chest grew warmer, and with it, the world around him seemed to shift, as if it was bending to a force he couldn't comprehend.
A low rumble echoed beneath him, like the groan of a giant waking from slumber. His heart began to race, and his skin prickled with a strange, electric sensation. For the first time in years, he felt something stir within him—a spark, a pulse. It was faint at first, like a flicker of flame in the dark, but then it spread, slowly but surely, until it consumed him entirely.
Kieran's vision blurred, and then, just as suddenly, everything snapped into focus. The forest around him was no longer just a collection of trees and shadows. It was alive—vibrant and teeming with energy. He could feel it in the air, like an invisible current flowing through everything, connecting him to the earth, the trees, the sky. It was magic, but not the kind he had seen in books or heard about in stories. This was ancient, primal, raw.
He stumbled to his feet, the ground beneath him trembling with each step. His body felt foreign to him, like it no longer obeyed the same rules as before. He reached out instinctively, his hand brushing against the trunk of a nearby tree, and immediately, a surge of power coursed through him. The tree groaned and shuddered, its branches twisting and growing, reaching for the sky as though it were alive—alive because of him.
Kieran jerked his hand back, his heart pounding in his chest. The tree calmed, its branches retracting slowly. He stared at his hand, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He had never felt anything like this before—never known such power was even possible. His mind raced, and a thousand questions flooded his thoughts. What was this? What had happened to him?
A voice—faint, but unmistakable—whispered inside his head. You are not alone anymore.
Kieran spun around, searching for the source of the voice, but the forest was empty, save for the trees and the undergrowth. His breath quickened, his hands trembling as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Was it in my head? he wondered. Am I losing my mind?
But then he felt it again, a warmth spreading from his chest to his fingertips, and suddenly, he knew. The voice wasn't just in his mind—it was something else. Something that had taken root in him, something that had been awakened in the depths of the forest lake.
The reality of it hit him like a blow to the stomach: the deity, the ancient power that had slumbered for so long beneath the waters, had chosen him. He was its vessel now, its instrument of vengeance and destruction. He had no choice in the matter.
The wind began to pick up again, swirling around him in a frantic dance, as though the very air was alive with energy. Kieran's chest tightened as he inhaled deeply, drawing the power into himself. It felt intoxicating, overwhelming, but it also felt like his only way out, his only way forward.
The memory of the villagers' cruelty—their mockery, their hatred—flashed in his mind. The faces of those who had driven him from his home, who had left him to die. They would pay. And Elias, the brother who had abandoned him, who had sealed his fate for his own gain—he would be the first to fall.
Kieran's fists clenched at his sides, and for the first time in years, he felt a burning sense of purpose. The pain of his past, the loneliness, the abandonment—they would fuel him, drive him to destroy everything that had wronged him. The power that flowed through him was his to wield, and he would use it to bring the world to its knees.
The voice whispered again, this time louder, clearer: The path is yours to choose. But remember, once you begin, there is no turning back.
Kieran's heart beat like a drum in his chest, and he nodded to himself. There was no turning back. He was already on his way.
With a final glance at the forest around him, he began to walk, each step heavier than the last, as the weight of the power within him grew, pulling him toward the destiny he could no longer escape.