Kael stood on the edge of the cliff, staring into the horizon as the sun dipped below the mountains, casting the sky in hues of orange and purple. The wind ruffled his unkempt hair, and he could feel the faint pulse in his chest—a rhythm he had long since grown accustomed to. It wasn't the beat of his heart, but something deeper, more sophisticated, thumping beneath his ribs. A pulse he could not fully comprehend.
He wasn't like the others. That much, he knew for sure.
The people of his world, the ones with their marks, had always been so certain, so sure of themselves. When they reached the age of awakening, their marks would appear—emblems of power that would glow like fire on their foreheads. The royals bore intricate, radiant symbols. The commoners, simpler, more modest shapes. Kael's father had told him it was a sign of their potential, a birthright that reflected how much force they could wield.
For Kael, though, there had been no mark. No sign of awakening.
Not yet.
His whole life, he'd watched as others' marks appeared, radiant and undeniable. Seth, the village chief's son, had awakened a year ago with a mark that spiraled outward like a swirling storm, his power potential crackling with energy that could level hills . The others had marveled at it. He'd seen their respect and fear when Seth stepped into a room, his symbol shining brightly for all to see.
Kael had only felt the weight of his failure.
He should've had a mark by now. He should've been showing signs of something—anything—other than weakness. But it was as if the universe had skipped over him, leaving him in the dust of those who had already found their place. He'd trained endlessly, pushing his body beyond its limits, and yet… nothing. Not a flicker, not a whisper of the power that everyone else had.
His father had tried to reassure him, his voice always tinged with an almost comforting sadness. "It's just a matter of time, son. The mark will come." But Kael had his doubts. The others were growing stronger with every passing day, their power growing, while his body and mind remained fragile, untested.
He turned away from the cliff, the wind now biting against his skin. He couldn't keep hiding here. The day of his awakening would come soon, or it wouldn't. But he couldn't stand to keep waiting.
Walking back into the village, Kael passed through the streets where his fellow villagers worked, their heads lowered in quiet reverence as they went about their tasks. Each one of them bore a mark. Every single one. Their symbols were small—some barely more than a dot or line—but they were there. Proof of their connection to the force. Proof of their worth.
He hated it.
The marks, the power, the expectations. The fact that they were all so certain of their place in the world. The certainty that Kael lacked.
"Kael," a voice called out from behind him.
He turned and saw Seth, standing near the village gate, his face a mixture of concern and something else—pity, maybe. He could see the mark on Seth's forehead, glowing faintly in the moonlight, a symbol of his mastery over the force. The storm symbol. Kael's stomach churned with frustration.
"What is it, Seth?" Kael asked, his tone sharper than he intended.
"I've been hearing things," Seth said, stepping closer, his voice low. "About your mark. Is it true? Has it not appeared yet?"
Kael clenched his fists, a mixture of anger and shame rising in him. Seth had never meant to hurt him with his question, but it stung all the same.
"It hasn't appeared," Kael said flatly, looking away.
Seth's eyes flickered with something—disappointment? But then it was gone, replaced by the same pity that everyone else seemed to feel for him. "Look, Kael. You've always been strong. I know that. But power isn't just about physical strength. It's about awakening. It's about connecting with the force. It'll come for you. Eventually."
"Eventually?" Kael's voice was low, almost a whisper. "How long should I wait, Seth? Another year? Another decade? How many more years of waiting do I need before I realize that maybe I'm just not enough to awaken?"
Seth's expression softened, but his words were cold, practical. "Maybe you just need to… find your path awaken. Marks appear on every child on the world once they turn to the age of 12, and the late bloomers like me get their on their 16th birthday, and Kael you are now 17…
Kael stared at him for a moment, the words sinking in like a blade.
But Kael couldn't shake the feeling that something more was happening inside of him. The mark wasn't just delayed—it was struggling to appear. He could feel it.
"I'll figure it out, Seth," Kael said, his voice harder now, determined. "I'm not giving up."
Seth nodded, though his eyes showed a flicker of doubt. "I hope so."
As Seth turned and walked away, Kael felt something stir in him, not his power but a distant memory that has been appearing in sections to him.
The day he told his father about the memories was the last day he saw him.