And there shall come one, that once touched by the sun will strip kings of their authority, and bring ruin to the enemies of his people.
Thus was written in the lost books of humanity, burned by those they call angels, lost to all accept the whisperers of their people... who now do the bidding of their enemies.
***
Year 3091, 1061 years after the ancient radiation wars. A subearth settlement called Etari.
"He's not ready, you can't just throw him into the tunnels. He's still only a boy, Kasa."
A man, face wrinkled with time, shook his head. "He's tasted of the radiation and survived. By law he is a ma—"
"A mistake! The one who left that shipment unattended should be stripped of his titles and thrown to the lower caves without equipment," Shala protested, the obsidian stone around her neck shaking with fury.
Kasa remained silent, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"There are no mistakes, Shala. Everything is as the Sun permits it."
Her shoulders relaxed under his grip. "He's just a boy," she replied, her tone softening.
"Yet already he bests the instructors in the training grounds. The elders have been calling for his rising for 2 expeditions now. If we do not answer them, especially after this, I fear that—"
"I heard you summoned me," a boy, no older than 15, entered. He closed the flaps of the tent behind him, kneeling before the chieftain.
"Later Luma, you may go back to bed," Shala said, not bothering to turn around.
"Shala, I remind you that despite your rank, you have no standing to dismiss anyone in my presence," the chieftain shot back.
A silence descended within the tent, and Luma looked between his sister and the chieftain, hoping she would not get into one of her moods.
Does it bother her so that I will soon join her in the tunnels? he thought. Since he drank of the radiation she hadn't even been able to look him in the eyes.
Shala balled her fists, clenching the stone around her neck.
Don't, Luma thought, wishing that he could stand between them, but knowing that he was powerless if these two decided to use their gifts.
Shala looked back at Luma, her scowl softening as she let go of the stone.
"I apologive for my mistep, chieftain," she said, bowing slightly.
"There is much that still needs my attention. I wish to be excused," she added, before storming out.
"Shala I have not dismissed you," the chieftain shouted.
She paused at the tent's edge and without looking back, let out a low grunt before stepping out into the dark.
He shook his head, turning to look down at Luma. "Your sister is not happy that you must face danger at an age when most are still learning the name of minerals," he said.
A poisonous heat rose within Luma's chest. I'm not a child anymore. She should be proud that I follow in her footsteps, he thought, remaining silent.
"You may speak," the chieftain said.
"I have already memorized all the minerals, chieftain," he replied bitterly.
"Yet I am told you do not understand their meaning."
Luma looked up at the chieftain with furrowed brows. "The instructors have never voiced that against me."
"It is not the instructors that whisper to me," the chieftain said, looking down at the green stone around his neck.
"Luma, do you know what this stone means?"
Luma stared at the stone, in that moment it was the only thing in the room, the only thing that mattered. The only thing that has ever mattered. Power.
"The emas, you hear the voice of the earth, the whispers of the sun," Luma replied, just as the instructors had taught him.
The chieftain shook his head, removing the necklace and holding it out. "I do not wish to hear the answers of your instructors," he said, gesturing for Luma to take it. "What does it mean?"
Luma stretched out his hand, hesitating. "Unrisen are not allowed to touch the stones," he replied, trying to keep his face neutral. He wants me to activate it. He hopes I'm a listener like him, he thought.
The chieftain smiled. "You preach laws to me? Yet law did not stop you from drinking of that shipment yesterday," he said, before taking Luma's hand. "Take it, and tell me it's meaning," he added, before shoving it into Luma's palm.
Luma tensed, closing his eyes, expecting... something to happen.
He held his breath, his mind already racing at all the possibilities that would open to him with this power. He could win back the water rights for his tribe, buy back the women and children that were taken, get settlement in angel city.
Yet even after several breaths had passed, nothing. And as the chieftain took his stone back, Luma felt that his future, all those possibilities, were being taken back with it.
This doesn't mean anything. Yes, that's right. All it proves is that I am not a listener, Luma thought, however this did not calm his thundering heart. I didn't want to be a listener anyway. The goal is a crier, I can only make a difference if I'm like her.
For a moment the chieftain stared down at the stone in dissapointment, before putting on the necklace.
He walked to the only table in his tent, and began rummaging through the documents and equipment piled there. "Ah," he whispered, pulling out a metallic bracelet. The mark of a shining sun was etched to its centre.
"Tomorrow you will partake in the rising ceremony with the others," he said, staring down at the bracelet. "Normally, this would've been given to you infront of the tribe, after the testing of radiation," he continued, before walking back to Luma.
"But since you did what has been done, it now falls on me to give you one," he explained, before gesturing for Luma to give him his arm.
It took Luma everything to contain his excitement, yet a smirk still found its way to his lips. A mining artifice, he thought, raising his arm. This was another one of those things that mattered. Another piece of power.
The chieftain placed it around his wrist, and it hummed to life, its circuitry flaring with blue light.
Luma stared down at it in awe and fear, this was technology bestowed by the angels, an item beyond the understanding of his people.
An instant later a sharp pain bit into his wrist. He staggered back but bit down on the scream clawing at his throat. The pain tore through to his arm, then to his neck, and straight to his eyes.
It was pain beyond anything that he had ever experienced, like having his eyes gouged out, and crammed into his skull at the same time. Yet he knew not to scream. To scream was to show weakness, no man of the tribe was allowed this respite.
The chieftain watched carefully, waiting for the process to complete.
Strange writings appeared into Luma's vision, dimming and brightening, known to him, yet unknown at the same time.
As his vision dimmed, the chief nodded, a strange pitty lingering in his eyes.
"You will rise tomorrow," he whispered. "It is as the sun permits it."