The heavens trembled as the divine council gathered in the Celestial Hall, their luminous forms casting shadows across the golden marble floor. Titans of power, gods of war, wisdom, and fate, all sat in their rightful thrones, their eyes fixed upon the radiant cradle at the center. Inside, wrapped in silver silk, lay the child—Kael, the forbidden son of two deities whose union should never have been.

"He cannot stay here," rumbled Azeron, the God of Order, his voice like rolling thunder. "His birth defies the balance of the cosmos."

"He is but a child!" Elara, Goddess of Light, protested. "He has done no wrong!"

"But he will," another god countered, his eyes burning with foresight. "The prophecy speaks of the boy who will rise beyond gods and mortals, who will shake the heavens themselves."

Silence fell upon the hall. They all knew the prophecy. They all feared it.

"We strip him of his divinity," Azeron decreed. "We send him to the mortal realm, where he will live and die as a man."

Elara clenched her fists. "And if he remembers?"

"He won't."

With a wave of Azeron’s hand, the cradle was engulfed in divine flames, and in a flash of golden light, the child vanished—banished to a world that would never know his true name.

---

Eighteen Years Later – The Mortal Realm

Kael woke with a start, his breath ragged, his forehead slick with sweat. The dream again. The same dream. A great fire. Voices he didn’t recognize. And the feeling of falling, endlessly falling.

He shook his head and sat up, brushing his black hair out of his eyes. The sun had barely risen over the village of Rendell, its golden light spilling through the wooden window of his small home. Another day of work awaited.

Kael dressed quickly, throwing on his worn-out tunic and boots before stepping outside. The scent of fresh bread and morning dew greeted him, but his mind was elsewhere. The dreams had been getting more vivid. More... real.

"Kael!"

A familiar voice snapped him back to reality. It was Darin, the village blacksmith, a burly man with arms like tree trunks. He was standing outside his forge, waving. "Late again? You’ll never become a master smith at this rate!"

Kael forced a grin. "I don't plan on being a smith forever, old man."

Darin laughed. "Then what do you plan on being, boy? A hero?"

Kael opened his mouth, but no words came. A hero? No, that wasn’t it. He didn’t know what he wanted. Only that something inside him whispered that he was meant for more.

He sighed and grabbed a hammer. "Let’s just get to work."

---

The Awakening

It started that night.

Kael had finished his work and was heading home when he felt it—an unnatural stillness in the air, like the world itself had stopped breathing.

Then, a whisper.

"Kael..."

He spun around. The village was silent, the streets empty. But he wasn’t alone.

A figure stood at the edge of the forest, cloaked in shadows. Its eyes glowed with an eerie golden light.

Kael’s heart pounded. He didn’t know why, but he recognized that light.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The figure stepped forward, and the moment it did, something deep within Kael snapped—like a lock breaking free.

Images flooded his mind. A grand hall of gods. A burning light. A cradle. A fall.

His knees buckled.

The figure stopped just a few feet away. When it spoke, its voice was layered, both familiar and foreign.

"You have been asleep for too long, young god."

Kael’s breath caught.

God?

The word rang in his ears, unlocking something that had been buried deep within him. And for the first time in his life… he felt power.

Something woke up inside him.

And the world would never be the same.

To be continued....

Kael groaned as he rolled out of bed, his body protesting against the movement. His limbs felt heavier than usual, and his head ached as though he had spent the entire night drinking—except he hadn’t. It was those damn dreams again. Fire, shadows, strange voices calling his name. At this point, he was starting to think he had been cursed at birth.

With a loud yawn, he stumbled toward the washbasin in the corner of his tiny room. The reflection staring back at him was nothing impressive—dark, messy hair, sharp eyes, and a face that always looked a little too serious. He splashed cold water on himself, rubbing his face aggressively in the hope that it would somehow wipe away his exhaustion. It didn’t.

Outside, the village of Rendell was already waking up. The sounds of chatter, the clatter of hooves on cobblestone, and the distant ringing of Darin’s forge reminded him that he had a long day ahead.

As if on cue, a deep voice boomed from outside.

“KAEL! If you’re not in my shop in the next five minutes, I swear on my hammer I’ll drag you out by your ears!”

Kael sighed. Darin had the patience of a saint—until he didn’t. And Kael had tested that patience far too many times.

The Forge and the Fury

Kael arrived at the blacksmith’s shop just in time to see Darin swinging a massive hammer, striking a heated piece of metal with the kind of precision only years of experience could bring. Sparks flew with each impact, illuminating the older man’s sweat-covered face.

Darin paused, wiped his brow, and gave Kael a look that was equal parts disappointment and amusement. “You look like a dead man walking.”

“Feel like one too,” Kael muttered.

The blacksmith grunted. “Well, if you’re dead, might as well make yourself useful before I bury you.” He tossed Kael a pair of tongs. “We’ve got an order for horseshoes, and unless you’ve suddenly discovered a hidden talent for magic, we’re making them the old-fashioned way.”

Kael caught the tongs with a yelp, nearly dropping them. “One of these days, you’re going to give me an actual concussion.”

Darin smirked. “And yet, you keep coming back. Now get to work.”

The next few hours were spent in the usual rhythm of the forge—heating metal, shaping it, cooling it in water, and repeating the process. Kael had been working under Darin for years now, and while he wasn’t terrible at it, he also wasn’t particularly passionate.

He wanted… more.

He didn’t know what "more" meant, exactly. Adventure? A grand purpose? At the very least, something more exciting than hitting metal all day.

At midday, Darin finally called for a break. Kael dropped onto a wooden bench with a dramatic sigh, stretching his sore arms.

Darin sat beside him, drinking from a mug of water before glancing at Kael with a knowing look. “So, when are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you?”

Kael hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Darin—he was practically family—but how did he even begin to explain the restless feeling inside him? The strange dreams? The unshakable sense that he was meant for something else?

Instead, he shrugged. “I don’t know. Just… weird dreams, I guess.”

Darin raised an eyebrow. “The kind that involve beautiful women or terrifying monsters?”

Kael snorted. “Neither. Just… fire, shadows, voices. It’s stupid.”

Darin was quiet for a moment before he shrugged. “Dreams are just that—dreams. Unless they start predicting the weather, I wouldn’t put too much stock in them.”

Kael chuckled. “You’re probably right.”

A Strange Encounter

After lunch, Kael decided to take a walk through the village. He needed air.

Rendell was a small but lively place, filled with farmers, merchants, and craftsmen all going about their day. He passed by the baker’s shop, the smell of fresh bread making his stomach grumble, and waved at Old Man Relk, who was attempting to chase a chicken out of his garden.

“KAEL, YOU LAZY BRAT, HELP ME CATCH THIS DEMON BIRD!” the old man shouted.

Kael grinned. “Sorry, can’t! Prior engagements with… uh… not getting pecked to death.”

“USELESS!” Relk yelled as the chicken flapped past him, victorious.

Kael laughed to himself and continued down the road, heading toward the outskirts of the village. He didn’t know why, but he felt… drawn there.

And that’s when he saw it.

A figure stood at the treeline, cloaked in black, its face hidden beneath a hood. Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun, a chill ran down Kael’s spine.

The figure raised its hand.

And Kael felt something inside him snap.

A sharp pain shot through his head, and suddenly, memories—not his own—flashed before his eyes.

A grand hall of gods.

A burning light.

A cradle.

A fall.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled back. “What the hell…”

The figure tilted its head. And then, in a voice that sent shivers down Kael’s spine, it spoke.

"You are not meant to be here, young god."

Kael blinked. “Wait, what?”

He stared at the figure, waiting for them to laugh and say just kidding!

They didn’t.

“Okay,” Kael muttered, rubbing his temples. “Clearly, I’m losing my mind. First the dreams, now mysterious strangers calling me a god.” He let out a nervous laugh. “What’s next? A dragon falling from the sky?”

A loud roar suddenly echoed from above.

Kael froze.

“…I was joking.”

To Be Continued…

Kael stood frozen, staring at the sky as the unmistakable roar of a very large creature echoed through the village.

Please let that be thunder. Please let that be thunder.

A massive shadow swept across the ground.

Not thunder.

Villagers began looking up, squinting against the afternoon sun. A few gasps, a couple of screams, and then full-blown panic as something with wings descended toward them.

Kael slowly turned back to the cloaked figure. “You know… when I said ‘what’s next, a dragon?’ I was joking.”

The figure didn’t answer. Instead, they took a single step forward.

And Kael’s body reacted on its own.

His heart pounded as an unnatural heat spread through his chest, like something locked away inside him was rattling its cage. The village around him blurred, his ears ringing with a strange humming sound that made no sense—like a language he almost understood.

What the hell is happening to me?

Then, just as suddenly as it came, the feeling vanished.

Which would’ve been great… if the giant dragon-like creature hadn’t just landed in the middle of the village.

A Slightly Inconvenient Monster Attack

The beast’s talons crushed the market stall closest to it, sending vegetables and wooden planks flying. Its black scales shimmered under the sunlight, and its yellow eyes gleamed with intelligence. It wasn’t some mindless monster—it knew exactly what it was doing.

People ran screaming in every direction, except for Old Man Relk, who was still fighting his chicken.

"IS NOW REALLY THE TIME?!" Kael shouted at him.

Relk, completely unfazed, shook his fist at the dragon. "I'VE LIVED THROUGH WORSE, BOY! THAT THING CAN WAIT ITS TURN!"

Kael had no words for that.

Instead, he turned his attention back to the cloaked figure, who was still just… standing there. Unbothered. Mysterious. Like this was all completely normal.

Kael pointed at the dragon. "You wouldn’t happen to know why a massive flying lizard just crashed into my village, would you?"

The figure finally spoke. "It has come for you."

Kael blinked. "I’m sorry—what?"

The figure tilted their head. "Your presence has awakened ancient forces. This is merely the beginning."

Kael rubbed his temples. "Oh, fantastic. No, really, I love that. ‘Ancient forces’ sounds like exactly the kind of problem I wanted today."

The dragon let out a deep growl, lowering its head as it sniffed the air. Then, to Kael’s absolute horror, its gaze locked directly onto him.

Kael swallowed. "So… when you say it came for me, you don’t mean, like, emotionally, right? More like ‘came to eat me alive’?"

The cloaked figure did not answer.

Kael sighed. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

A Brilliant Escape Plan (That Immediately Fails)

Darin, the blacksmith, burst out of his forge, hammer in hand. "KAEL, WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"WHY DO YOU THINK I DID SOMETHING?!" Kael yelled back.

"BECAUSE THINGS LIKE THIS ONLY HAPPEN WHEN YOU’RE AROUND!"

Fair point.

Kael had two options:

Run (which sounded like a great idea).

Stay and die a fiery, heroic death.

Before he could act, the dragon lunged.

Time slowed.

The world tilted.

Kael barely had time to register what was happening before a blinding heat erupted from inside him. His vision blurred, and in the next instant—

BOOM.

A shockwave blasted outward, knocking over market stalls, sending debris flying. The dragon reared back, roaring in surprise.

Kael, now lying on his back, stared up at the sky, coughing as the dust settled around him.

Darin’s voice rang out from somewhere nearby. "KAEL, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"

Kael coughed again, eyes wide. "I… have no idea."

He looked at his hands.

They were glowing.

Well. That was new.

The cloaked figure took a slow step forward. "It has begun."

Kael groaned. "I hate everything about today."

To Be Continued…