The colony of Eclipsa was small—a confederation of survivors hidden in the shadows of a dead world. They were survivors, all of them, and each carried the scars of existence in the wastelands: some dared to put up a semblance of hope, yet others clung onto fables of survival or even the barest shadows of purpose. No great hopes, just the wish for one more day of existence.
Orion knew them all, even if not a one knew him that well. He was the outcast, the one with an Aura that had never come into existence, whose name was spoken of generically with pity, at best indifference. But what the people of Eclipsa lacked—a colorfulness to existence—they made up for with an indomitable spirit in their compassion for each other.
Then came Caden, a lanky young man of black mop and smiley eyes. He wore his Aura dimly yet excitedly, sparking ragings about the minute he would, in fact, become the most adept of these youngster fighters. He'd go hunting in the outskirts of the wasteland, always running after their lesser beasts, always going on about how he would harness great power someday. His conceit was charming, after all. That notwithstanding, he was a fool.
Then Lara stood - a shy, inquisitive girl; she was born with an uncanny talent that befriended animals. With one eerie touch, she could calm the wildest of mutated creatures, her Aura resonating with them. Lara was endowed with an insight into nature and the world surrounding her, although she got little understanding in return. Lara was Orion's only friend in Eclipsa: quiet support for her one question regarding his null capability.
Another was Jin. He was a boy with those sharp, assessing lids always watching and waiting. He had a knack for manipulating metal, with his Aura flickering when the metal tools and weapons engagingly contacted each other holding the importance of life surviving in the colony. He spent a lot of time fiddling with broken machines in previous days-a rare moment where he just sat quiet, sometimes agonizingly scavenging old technology in orphaned machines for building new ones to help them all make the hard environment more tolerable for a colony like the Eclipsa. He was full of self-confidence, while Caden too had unrefined power in his hands.
And then Sylvia: the sun that had always been Orion's light - her constant optimism and love forming the predictable rhythm to his life. She was the glue that held the small community together; the one always to lend an ear, feed the hungry and balm the afflicted souls around her. Humble before all, her Aura calmed everyone she ever met-a presence that allowed a feeling of peace to bloom in a mind that was utterly confused by the connotations of peace and had forgotten what it would feel like to be at peace with the world.
They were the few who constituted Eclipsa-a family by that necessity, for survival.
Orion was alone on this occasion.
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When the morning passed quietly, the rain-and-storm clouds had finally arrived with their darkest, smoky shades and an almost unsettling vibe. Orion had finished his repairs to the perimeter fence and spent some hours that day meditating by the garden, concentrating on the breath and attempting to quiet down the fuzzy thoughts which drew their disturbing peace in his world. The storm had nearly reached, but Orion was far from starting the party within Eclipsa's safety.
The woods next to the outpost were dangerous, but to Orion, they offered an escape from the burden of expectations, an opportunity to train and push himself beyond his previously set limitations. What had once been a vibrant and lively forest had shriveled up into a wasteland of gnarled trees and wrecked ruins, reminders of a bygone era. Though the beasts that roamed these woods were fierce and not to be trifled with, the serene quiet offered comfort to Orion.
He strode along the path toward the forest's fringe, sword on his belt and a small pack over his shoulder. The air felt heavy with the smell of rain and earth; it was as if every step he took weighed him down, the land gradually pushing him back to suffocation. But despite the weight, he felt quite alive with himself. There was something about being in the wilderness alone; it connected him to the world long before the age of Neos City.
The slashing of the sword and his training sessions were a means for him to focus his mind and channel his frustration toward some tangible result. Each cut and each parry were memories that reminded him that he was still alive and that he had some control over the course of his life.
With each footfall, the path sloped ever-steeper, the trees grew denser, twisted roots spilling along the grounds, curving, hiding and threatening to trip him in every turn. As Orion wandered deeper into the forest, the sensation of land began creeping in around him with wait. He smelled the very air around him in decay, remnants of a world ravaged by war. The occasional rustle of leaves and the distant, muffled growl of the mutated beasts infesting the forests filled the silence.
Here, in the clearing in the heart of the forest, a place to train that Orion often took refuge in, silence reigned, broken only by the sporadic cracking of a branch or the distant call of a bird. Unstrapping his pack and placing it down on the ground, he drew his sword and glinted coldly in the dim light.
His form was not one he'd consider perfect, but that didn't matter to him; he was here to practice, not to impress. He swung the sword through the air, forcing the blade to go through the imaginary enemies in his mind, feeling the resistance of the air. Far from skillful, but this was all he knew for release; for once, he felt as though he were in control of his very flesh.
And a sudden rustling from the bushes ahead sent him back to the present. Orion gripped tightly on his sword, his senses suddenly alert, not that he was alone.
Out of the tree line on the far edge of the clearing, a lone figure stepped forward. At first glance, Orion assumed it to be one of the beasts mutated from their kind by the wildness of these woods, but as the figure stepped out of the shadow and into the light, he could see that it was human—a man, lean and wiry, clad in a mix of furs and rugged clothing, with a bow slung across his back and a hunting knife at his side.
His dark skin and the features of a god caught Orion's eyes immediately. Something told him he should be familiar with this one; not just because of the man's appearance, but also because of the way he moved and carried himself, with an ease and confidence never seen before by Orion.
"Who are you?" came the call from Orion, his voice steady even among all the tension accruing in his chest.
The man smirked as he eyed Orion with an inscrutable intensity. "The name's Adi. And you must be the one they call The Faint."
Along with the nickname came an involuntary tightening of the grip on the sword on which Orion was restive. "What do you want?"
The smile fell from Adi's mouth, the expression on his face sharpening. "I'm here to see something."
Before Orion knew what was happening, there was an electrifying tingle in the air surrounding Adi coming so suddenly it caused the clearing to ripple. It was the first time such a feeling had ever washed over Orion. Adi's aura was like the buildup before a storm; raw, alive, electric. Orion widened his eyes in disbelief as it swept through his very mind. This man was far beyond someone Orion had ever felt, almost a stranger.
The clouds began to swirl dark overhead.
"I think it is time for you to see what your aura can really do," stated Adi, very softly.
Then, without warning, the ground trembled at their feet.