I bounced out of bed, my heart racing with excitement. Three more days. Just three more days until my awakening. The morning sun filtered through my window, casting long shadows across my small bedroom floor. I'd counted down to this moment for months, marking each day off on the wooden calendar Father had carved for me.

  My bare feet hit the cool floorboards as I rushed down the stairs of our cottage, following the sweet scent of freshly baked bread and honey.

  "Someone's up early." Mother stood by the hearth, her red hair glowing in the morning light as she warmed a pot of porridge with her fire magic. A small flame danced between her fingers, carefully controlled beneath the cooking pot.

  "Morning Mother!" I wrapped my arms around her waist, breathing in the familiar scent of cinnamon that always seemed to follow her.

  Father looked up from his seat at our wooden table, lowering the medical text he'd been studying. "You're practically vibrating, James. I haven't seen you this energetic since the harvest festival."

  "How can I not be? My awakening is so close!" I slid into my chair, watching as Mother set down a bowl of steaming porridge in front of me. "What if I get healing powers like you, Father? Or fire like Mother?"

  Father's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Whatever power manifests will be perfectly suited to you."

  "But what if-" I shoveled a spoonful of porridge into my mouth, then winced at the heat.

  Mother chuckled. "Here." She touched my bowl with a finger, drawing out some of the excess heat. "Better?"

  I nodded gratefully. "Thanks. I just can't wait to find out what I'll be able to do."

  "Patience." Father reached across the table to ruffle my hair. "The awakening isn't just about gaining power - it's about discovering who you are."

  I squirmed in my seat, too excited to fully appreciate his wisdom. The porridge was forgotten as I imagined all the possibilities that lay ahead. Three days felt like forever.

  Through the window, a familiar voice cut through my daydreaming. "James! Come on!"

  Marcus stood outside, waving his arms. His dark hair stuck up in all directions, just like his father Chief Morris's did.

  "Can I go to the river with Marcus?" I jumped up from the table, nearly knocking over my half-eaten porridge.

  Mother caught the bowl with a quick gesture. "At least finish your breakfast first."

  I shoveled three more spoonfuls into my mouth. "Done! We'll be down by the river."

  "Be careful," Mother called after me as I rushed to the door. "And stay where we can find you!"

  "We will!" I grabbed my worn leather boots from beside the door, hopping on one foot as I pulled them on.

  Marcus bounced from foot to foot outside. "Finally! I thought you'd sleep all morning."

  "Not a chance." I bounded down our front steps. "Mother, we're heading out!"

  She appeared in the doorway, the morning light catching her red hair like flames. "Have fun, boys. Be back before sunset!"

  Marcus and I raced down the dirt path from my hilltop home, our feet kicking up clouds of dust. The morning dew still clung to the grass on either side of the trail, sparkling in the early sunlight. Below us, smoke curled from chimneys across the village as people started their day.

  "Last one to the bottom has to eat mud!" Marcus shouted, taking the lead.

  I pumped my legs harder, the wind whipping through my hair. The path zigzagged down the hillside, worn smooth by years of villagers making the trek up to see Father for healing. Marcus knew every shortcut, darting between the switchbacks while I stuck to the main trail.

  "No fair!" I called out as he cut through Mrs. Peterson's garden, dodging between her prized tomato plants.

  The village spread out beneath us - the thatched roofs, the central square where traders set up their stalls, and Chief Morris's house standing proud in the middle of it all. Marcus lived there with his father, right in the heart of everything.

  "Keep up, slowpoke!" Marcus's voice drifted up from somewhere below.

  I veered off the path, sliding down a grassy slope on my heels. My boots left twin trails in the morning dew as I picked up speed, arms out for balance. The bottom of the hill rushed up to meet me.

  Marcus burst out from behind the bakery just as I reached the village proper, nearly colliding with me. We both stumbled, laughing and grabbing each other's shoulders to stay upright.

  "I won!" We both shouted at the same time.

  "No way, I clearly got here first," Marcus said, brushing grass off his pants.

  "You wish." I straightened up, still catching my breath. The familiar sounds of the village surrounded us - the blacksmith's hammer ringing out, chickens clucking, merchants calling their wares.

  Marcus and I decided to walk the rest of the way to the river, taking our time as we meandered through the village. The morning air buzzed with activity as everyone prepared for the day ahead.

  We passed Mrs. Peterson, who was busy tending to her garden. She waved a hand, and a faint green glow surrounded her plants, causing them to straighten and perk up. Plant manipulation magic, just like hers. She always had the most beautiful flowers in the village.

  "Morning, Mrs. Peterson!" I called out.

  "Morning, boys! Off to the river again?" She gave us a knowing smile.

  "Yep! We're gonna see if we can catch some fish today," Marcus replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

  "Well, good luck! And don't forget to bring some back for your mothers." She turned back to her garden, her hands glowing softly as she coaxed a stubborn weed from the soil.

  We continued down the main street, passing by the blacksmith's shop. Mr. Harris was already hard at work, his hammer ringing out in rhythmic beats as he shaped a glowing piece of metal. Sparks flew around him, but they never seemed to touch his skin - a subtle use of fire manipulation to keep himself safe from burns.

  "Think we'll ever be that good?" I asked Marcus as we watched Mr. Harris work.

  "Maybe," Marcus shrugged. "Depends on what powers we get."

  Marcus and I made our way through the village, exchanging greetings with familiar faces. The closer we got to the river, the more excited I felt. The sound of rushing water grew louder, blending with our footsteps.

  When we reached the riverbank, Marcus immediately kicked off his boots and waded into the cool water. "Last one in is a rotten egg!" he shouted over his shoulder.

  I quickly followed suit, relishing the feeling of the smooth pebbles under my feet. The water swirled around my ankles, cool and refreshing. Marcus had already splashed his way to a deeper part of the river, where it reached up to his knees.

  "Check this out!" he yelled, bending down to pick up a flat stone. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent it skimming across the surface of the water. It skipped four times before sinking.

  "Nice one!" I said, grabbing a stone of my own. I tried to imitate his technique, but my stone only managed two skips before plopping into the river.

  "Keep practicing," Marcus said with a grin. "You'll get better."

  We spent the next hour perfecting our stone-skipping skills, laughing and shouting as we competed to see who could get the most skips. Every so often, one of us would dive into the deeper water for a swim or to search for interesting rocks at the bottom.

  "Look at this one!" Marcus held up a smooth, green stone that glinted in the sunlight. "It's like an emerald!"

  "Whoa," I said, taking it from him to get a closer look. "Think it's valuable?"

  "Nah," Marcus shrugged. "But it's still cool."

  I nodded in agreement and tucked the stone into my pocket as a keepsake. We continued exploring the riverbank, occasionally finding more treasures – shiny pebbles, bits of colorful glass worn smooth by the water.

  Marcus and I sat on the riverbank, our legs dangling in the water. The sun climbed higher, warming our faces as we let our imaginations run wild.

  "Imagine if I got fire magic like your mother," Marcus said, his eyes wide with excitement. "I could light up the whole village at night!"

  "Yeah, and you could cook our meals without even needing a fire pit," I added, grinning. "Or maybe I'll get earth magic and build us a huge treehouse up in the old oak tree by the meadow."

  Marcus splashed some water at me. "A treehouse? That's nothing! If I got air magic, I could fly us anywhere we wanted to go. We could visit other villages or even the big cities we've heard about."

  "That would be amazing," I agreed, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought. "Or what if one of us got water magic? We could control this entire river! Make it do tricks or create waterfalls wherever we wanted."

  "Water magic would be cool," Marcus said thoughtfully. "But imagine having lightning powers. We could summon storms and have lightning races through the clouds."

  We both laughed at the idea, picturing ourselves zipping through the sky with bolts of lightning crackling around us. The possibilities seemed endless.

  "I think it would be pretty great to have plant magic too," I said after a moment. "We could make gardens grow overnight and have flowers bloom all year round."

  Marcus nodded. "And heal people like your father does with his herbs and remedies."

  "Exactly!" I leaned back on my elbows, staring up at the blue sky. "There are so many different kinds of magic. It's hard to choose just one."

  Marcus lay down beside me, folding his arms behind his head. "Yeah, but whatever we get, it's going to be incredible. We'll finally know what we're meant to do with our lives."

  I smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation building inside me. The awakening wasn't just about gaining magical powers – it was about discovering our true selves and our place in the world.

  "We'll make a great team," I said confidently. "No matter what powers we get."

  Marcus grinned back at me. "Absolutely."

  Marcus lay beside me, the gentle rush of the river lulling us into a comfortable silence. The sun warmed our faces as we stared up at the sky, lost in our thoughts about the upcoming awakening.

  "James," Marcus broke the silence, his voice serious. "Let's make a promise."

  I turned my head to look at him. "A promise?"

  "Yeah." He propped himself up on one elbow, looking me straight in the eyes. "Let's promise that no matter what powers we get, we'll be the greatest mages ever. We'll push each other to be the best."

  A grin spread across my face. "You got it. We'll be unstoppable."

  "And..." He hesitated for a moment, then continued with determination. "Let's promise to stay best friends forever, no matter what happens."

  I sat up, reaching out my hand to clasp his in a firm grip. "Deal. Best friends forever and the greatest mages ever."

  We shook on it, sealing our vow with a solemn nod before breaking into wide smiles.

  "Just three more days," I said, feeling the excitement again.

  "Three days," Marcus echoed, his eyes shining with anticipation. "And then everything changes."

  We lay back down, letting the moment sink in. The river continued its endless journey beside us, and I felt a deep sense of certainty that no matter what powers we awakened to, we would face it together.

  The afternoon sun blazed overhead as Marcus and I decided to try our luck at fishing. We fashioned makeshift poles from straight branches and twine we'd found, using bits of bread as bait.

  We moved spots several times, trying different depths and locations along the river. The fish darted past our feet, silver flashes in the clear water, but none took interest in our offerings.

  The sun's rays turned golden as it dipped toward the horizon, painting long shadows across the riverbank. My stomach growled, reminding me we'd spent the whole day by the water with nothing but a few pieces of bread.

  "We should head back," Marcus said, reeling in his makeshift fishing line. "Father will be looking for me soon."

  I nodded, gathering our scattered belongings. "Same with Mother. She'll worry if we're not home before dark."

  We pulled our boots back on, our feet still damp from the river. The walk back was quieter than our morning race, both of us tired from the day's adventures.

  As we reached the village square, Marcus turned toward the center where his house stood proudly among the other buildings. "See you tomorrow?"

  "Definitely." I adjusted the strap of my bag. "Maybe we'll have better luck fishing next time."

  "Or maybe in three days we'll just use magic to catch them." He grinned, walking backward a few steps. "Night, James!"

  "Night, Marcus!" I watched him disappear down the main street before starting my trek up the hill.

  The climb felt steeper than usual with my tired legs. Scattered lights began appearing in windows across the village as families lit their evening lamps. Above me, our cottage glowed warmly against the darkening sky, smoke curling from the chimney. The smell of Mother's cooking drifted down, spurring me to walk faster despite my exhaustion.

  I burst through our front door, the warmth and aroma of Mother's cooking enveloping me. "I'm home!"

  "There you are!" Mother stirred something in a large pot over the hearth. "Did you and Marcus catch anything?"

  "No fish today." I dropped onto a chair at our wooden table. "But we found some cool rocks, and we practiced skipping stones, and we talked about the awakening-"

  Father emerged from his study, herbs bundled in his arms. "Ah, the awakening again?" His eyes crinkled with amusement. "You've barely talked about anything else these past weeks."

  "I can't help it!" I bounced in my seat. "What if I get healing powers like you, Father? Or fire magic like Mother? Or something completely different?"

  "And before you tell us more about your day," Mother interrupted with a knowing smile, "you need a bath, young man. I've already warmed the water for you."

  I glanced down at my mud-splattered clothes and river-soaked boots. "But I'm starving!"

  "The food will still be here when you're clean." She gestured toward our washing room, a small wisp of steam curling from behind the door. "Go on now. I used my fire magic to get the temperature just right."

  I trudged to the washing room, the wooden floorboards creaking under my feet. Sure enough, the copper tub was filled with perfectly heated water, a faint trace of Mother's magic still lingering in the steam. She always knew exactly how to warm it - not too hot, not too cold.

  Peeling off my dirty clothes, I sank into the water with a contented sigh. The warmth seeped into my tired muscles, washing away the day's adventures. Mother had even added some of Father's dried lavender to the water, the familiar scent filling the small room.

  I scrubbed quickly, eager to get back to dinner. The smell of Mother's cooking wafted under the door - something with herbs and roasted vegetables. My stomach growled again as I dried off with the rough linen towel and pulled on my clean clothes.

  "Much better," Mother said as I emerged, my hair still damp. She placed a steaming bowl on the table. "Now you can tell us all about your day."

  I slid into my usual spot at the dinner table, steam rising from the bowl of hearty stew in front of me. Father leaned against the counter, a playful glint in his eyes.

  "You know, with all this awakening talk, I remember when I got my powers." He stroked his chin. "I was so excited to heal people that I tried fixing everything - including your mother's cooking."

  "Nova!" Mother swatted his arm with a cloth. "My cooking was perfectly fine."

  "The chicken was still clucking, Sarah." Father ducked as she tossed the cloth at him.

  "At least I didn't spend a week trying to heal plants that weren't even sick," Mother shot back, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

  I nearly choked on my stew, laughter bubbling up as I watched them. Father's face turned red as he remembered the incident.

  "Those herbs looked very pale," he protested weakly.

  "They were supposed to be white sage, dear." Mother winked at me. "Your father spent three days channeling light magic into them before I told him."

  We all burst out laughing, the sound filling our small kitchen with warmth. Even Father joined in, shaking his head at his past self's mistake.

  "Well, James," he said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, "at least you'll have us to guide you, no matter what power you get.

  After dinner, I helped Mother clear the table, stacking the wooden bowls and spoons while she wiped down the surfaces. She hummed a soft tune, her hands glowing faintly as she used her fire magic to warm the washing water.

  "Here, let me help with those." I grabbed the cloth and started drying the dishes she'd cleaned.

  "Such a good helper." She ruffled my hair. "You know, magic or no magic, that's what matters most - having a kind heart."

  I nodded, but my mind was already racing ahead to the awakening. Would my hands glow like hers when I used magic? Would I feel the power coursing through my body?

  Once the kitchen was spotless, I climbed the narrow stairs to my room. The wooden steps creaked under my feet, a familiar sound that had lulled me to sleep countless nights. My room felt cozy in the evening light, with its small bed tucked under the window and shelves lined with treasures Marcus and I had collected over the years.

  I changed into my sleeping clothes and settled onto the window seat, pressing my forehead against the cool glass. Outside, the twin moons hung in the darkening sky - the larger one casting its bluish glow across the village rooftops, while its smaller, crimson companion seemed to dance beside it.

  I jolted up from the window seat, suddenly remembering the green stone from the river. Fishing it out of my pocket, I held it up to catch the moonlight. The smooth surface gleamed, reflecting tiny specks of light across my room.

  "Can't believe I almost forgot about you," I whispered, turning the stone over in my palm. It was perfect - just the right size and shape. Marcus and I had found plenty of interesting rocks before, but this one felt special.

  I placed it carefully on my desk, right next to the wooden box where I kept my most precious finds. Maybe I could wrap some copper wire around it, like the pendants the traveling merchants sometimes sold. Marcus would love that. He always had a thing for shiny objects, especially ones we discovered together.

  My fingers traced the stone's smooth edges as I planned. Father had some spare wire in his study that he used for binding herb bundles. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I borrowed a bit. With some work, I could make it into something Marcus could wear - a reminder of our promise by the river today.

  I moved the stone next to my bed so I wouldn't forget about it in the morning. My eyelids grew heavy as I watched the moons' slow dance across the night sky. I yawned, my imagination still swirling with possibilities as I crawled into bed. The moonlight painted patterns on my blanket, and I watched them until my eyes drifted shut, dreams of magic carrying me away.

  * * *

  The next three days passed like a whirlwind. Between helping Mother prepare ceremonial clothes and Father teaching me how to wrap copper wire around stones, time slipped through my fingers faster than river water.

  "Hold it steady now," Father guided my hands as I twisted the thin wire around the green stone. "That's it - not too tight."

  The pendant took shape slowly, each careful loop of wire creating an intricate pattern that held the stone secure. Father showed me how to make tiny curls at the edges, turning my clumsy attempts into something that actually looked nice.

  Marcus and I still managed to squeeze in some time together between preparations, though it wasn't the same as our usual adventures. We helped the village elders set up the ceremonial grounds, carrying bundles of sweet-smelling herbs and arranging white stones in circles.

  The night before, Mother laid out my ceremonial clothes - a white tunic embroidered with silver threads that caught the moonlight. She'd spent weeks working on it, weaving protective symbols into the fabric.

  "To help guide your awakening," she explained, smoothing out the wrinkles.

  I barely slept that night, the pendant clutched in my hand. I planned to give it to Marcus right before the ceremony. The twin moons seemed brighter than usual, their light streaming through my window and making patterns on my ceiling.

  My eyes grew heavy as the blue moon crept higher in the sky, its larger form partially eclipsing its bloodred sister. The familiar shadows in my room began to blur. Even the excitement of tomorrow couldn't fight off the growing weight of sleep.

  I remembered Mother's words about rest being important before the awakening, but my thoughts kept drifting to Marcus and our promise by the river. The greatest mages ever...

  The pendant slipped from my loosening grip as sleep finally pulled me under, the twin moons still watching through my window.

  A gentle shake pulled me from dreams filled with swirling magic.

  "James." Father's deep voice cut through the morning haze. "Time to rise."

  I blinked, surprised to see him instead of Mother. The first rays of sunlight barely peeked through my window. Father sat on the edge of my bed, already dressed in his formal robes - deep blue with silver trim that marked him as our village's master craftsman.

  "Your mother's busy with the final preparations," he said, picking up the pendant that had fallen beside my pillow during the night. "Thought I'd let her focus on that."

  I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. The familiar weight of excitement and nerves settled in my stomach as reality hit - today was the day of my awakening.

  Father turned the pendant over in his hands, examining our handiwork. "Not bad for your first try." He placed it back in my palm, closing my fingers around it. "Marcus will appreciate this."

  "You think so?" I clutched the pendant tighter.

  "I know so." Father stood, moving to the chest where Mother had laid out my ceremonial clothes. "Now come on, can't keep the Elders waiting. They traveled all the way from the capital for this."

  My heart jumped at the mention of the Elders. Their presence made everything feel more real, more important. I swung my legs over the bed, the cool morning air raising goosebumps on my arms.

  Father lifted the white tunic, the silver threads catching the early light. "Your mother outdid herself with this one."

  "Did you feel scared? During your awakening?" The question slipped out before I could stop it.

  Father paused, tunic still in hand. "Terrified." A small smile crossed his face. "But you know what? That fear meant I was ready. Means you're ready too."

  Father handed me the tunic, then crossed his arms with an exaggerated frown. "You know, I heard the Elders can tell what magic you'll get by how you smell. Better hope you don't end up with skunk magic."

  "That's not real." I sniffed my arm anyway.

  "Oh yes, very serious business." His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Your Uncle Mario got sprayed by a skunk the day before his awakening. Ended up with garbage disposal magic. Had to spend the rest of his life cleaning the capital's sewers."

  "But Uncle Mario's a merchant in the Big Cities!"

  "That's what we tell everyone. Can't admit to having a sewer mage in the family." Father tapped his nose. "Though it does explain why he always brings those strange-smelling cheeses when he visits."

  I burst out laughing, the tension in my shoulders melting away. The image of Uncle Mario wading through sewers in his fancy merchant clothes was too ridiculous.

  "Nova!" Mother's voice cut through our laughter as she appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips. "Stop filling our son's head with nonsense and get him in the bath. The ceremonial grounds need to be blessed before sunrise, and I won't have him showing up smelling like river mud."

  "Yes, dear." Father gave me a conspiratorial wink. "Though between you and me, river mud magic would be quite useful. Think of all the pies you could make."

  "Bath. Now." Mother pointed down the hall, but I caught the smile she tried to hide behind her stern expression.

  The warm bath helped calm my nerves, though Mother had to remind me twice not to splash around like I usually did. After drying off, I slipped into the ceremonial tunic, the fabric softer than anything I'd ever worn. The silver threads seemed to move on their own, catching light from angles that shouldn't have been possible.

  I tucked Marcus's pendant into a small pocket Mother had sewn inside the tunic. The weight of it against my chest felt reassuring.

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  "Ready?" Father stood in the doorway, holding a lantern to light our way through the pre-dawn darkness.

  Mother fussed with my hair one last time, trying to tame the stubborn cowlick that always stuck up in the back. "There. Now you look proper for the Elders."

  We stepped out into the cool morning air. The stars still dotted the sky, though they were beginning to fade as dawn approached. Other families emerged from their homes, all heading in the same direction. The soft glow of lanterns bobbed through the streets like fireflies.

  The town hall loomed ahead, its stone walls decorated with floating orbs of light that the village mages had conjured. Normally the building was plain, used mostly for storing grain and holding village meetings. But now it looked magical, transformed by the ceremonial decorations.

  My stomach did a flip when I spotted the Elders' carriage parked outside, its polished wood gleaming in the lantern light. Even their horses looked different from regular ones, their coats shimmering with an otherworldly sheen.

  "Look." Father pointed to where Chief Morris and Marcus waited by the entrance. Marcus wore a tunic similar to mine, though his was decorated with earth-tone threads instead of silver.

  Mother squeezed my shoulder. "Remember, no matter what happens in there, we're proud of you."

  I nodded, my throat suddenly too tight for words. We joined the line of families filing into the town hall, the smell of ceremonial herbs growing stronger with each step.

  Before we could enter the main hall, Chief Morris gestured for Marcus and me to follow him. We slipped down a quiet back hallway, away from the bustling crowd. The stone walls muffled the excited chatter from the main room, leaving us in a pocket of silence broken only by our footsteps.

  Chief Morris knelt down to our level, his ceremonial robes pooling around him. The usual stern lines of his face had softened.

  "Boys." He placed a hand on each of our shoulders. "I remember standing right here thirty years ago, shaking like a leaf before my own awakening."

  "You were scared?" Marcus gaped at his father. I'd never seen the Chief look afraid of anything.

  "Scared? I nearly ran straight out the back door." He chuckled, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "Your grandfather had to drag me back by my ear."

  "Listen carefully." Chief Morris's grip tightened slightly. "There's no such thing as bad magic. The awakening shows us who we truly are inside. "

  Chief Morris stood, brushing off his ceremonial robes. "Wait here. I'll come fetch you when it's time." His footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving Marcus and me alone in the dim corridor.

  My heart hammered against my chest. This was my chance. I reached into the hidden pocket of my tunic, fingers wrapping around the pendant.

  "Hey Marcus." My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I made something. For you."

  I pulled out the pendant, the green stone catching the light from the wall sconces. The copper wire gleamed, creating delicate patterns across its surface.

  "It's the stone from the river. The one you said you like." I held it out, suddenly worried my wire work looked amateur compared to Father's craftsmanship. "Father helped me wrap it."

  Marcus took the pendant, turning it over in his hands. His eyes widened as he traced the wire patterns with his finger.

  "You made this? For me?"

  "Yeah. I thought... well, no matter what magic we get, we'll still be best friends, right? Like we promised?"

  Marcus slipped the leather cord over his head, the pendant settling against his chest. Without warning, he threw his arms around me in a fierce hug.

  "Best friends forever," he whispered. "Even if I get skunk magic."

  I laughed, the tension in my shoulders easing. "Your father would never let you live that down."

  Marcus stepped back, still clutching the pendant. "I wish I had something to give you too."

  "Don't worry about-" The words died in my throat as Chief Morris's footsteps echoed down the hallway.

  "Marcus." Chief Morris's voice carried a weight I'd never heard before. "It's time."

  Marcus's hand flew to the pendant, gripping it tight. His face had gone pale, making the freckles across his nose stand out even more than usual. For a moment, he looked like he might be sick.

  "Father, I-"

  "You'll do fine, son." Chief Morris placed a steady hand on Marcus's shoulder. "The Elders are waiting."

  Marcus shot me one last look, a mix of terror and excitement in his eyes. I wanted to say something encouraging, but my tongue felt stuck to the roof of my mouth. Instead, I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring nod.

  Chief Morris guided Marcus down the corridor, their footsteps fading into silence. The pendant caught the light one last time before they disappeared around the corner, leaving me alone in the dim hallway.

  I slid down the cool stone wall, drawing my knees to my chest. The ceremonial tunic rustled with the movement, its silver threads shifting like liquid metal in the torchlight. Somewhere beyond these walls, Marcus was facing his awakening. My best friend would return changed - marked by whatever magic chose him.

  The wait stretched on. Each minute felt like an hour as I sat there, listening to the muffled sounds of the ceremony filtering through the thick walls.

  I pressed my ear against the cold stone wall, straining to hear anything from the main hall. The ceremonial chants had grown louder, their ancient words echoing through the corridors in a rhythm that made my skin tingle.

  Then silence fell, heavy and absolute.

  My heart stopped beating for a moment. The quiet stretched until I thought I might scream just to break it. And then-

  The explosion of cheers hit like a thunderclap, voices raised in joy and celebration. The sound rolled through the halls, unmistakable in its meaning. I knew what it meant - Marcus had awakened. My best friend had crossed that threshold, leaving childhood behind.

  My fingers traced the silver threads on my tunic as the cheering continued. Marcus was different now, marked by whatever power had chosen him. The pendant I'd given him seemed like such a small thing compared to the gift of magic he'd just received.

  The noise began to die down, replaced by the murmur of congratulations and blessed words. I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, wondering what power had claimed my friend. Was he a wielder of earth like his father? Or had some other magic seen something different in him?

  My own awakening loomed closer with each passing minute. Soon, Chief Morris would return to lead me down that same path. The thought sent a shiver down my spine despite the warmth of my ceremonial clothes.

  Heavy footsteps pulled me from my thoughts. I scrambled to my feet as Chief Morris's shadow appeared on the wall, my ceremonial tunic rustling with the sudden movement.

  "James." Chief Morris's face gave nothing away about Marcus's awakening. "They're ready for you."

  My legs felt like water as I followed him through the winding corridor. The smell of ceremonial herbs grew stronger with each step, mixing with the sharp scent of magic that lingered in the air. The silver threads in my tunic seemed to respond, catching light that wasn't there.

  My heart leaped into my throat as Chief Morris led me into the main hall. The familiar space had transformed into something ancient and mystical. Floating orbs of light cast dancing shadows across the walls, making the room feel larger than I remembered.

  The entire village stood in perfect rows, their faces turned toward the center where a circle of stones pulsed with inner light. The stones weren't just placed on the ground - they hovered inches above it, rotating slowly in perfect synchronization. Each one gleamed with different colors that shifted and swirled beneath their surface.

  But it was the Elders that made my breath catch. Three figures in flowing robes stood equidistant around the circle, their hands raised as if holding up an invisible dome. The air around them rippled like heat waves rising from summer stones. Their hoods were pulled back, revealing faces etched with age and wisdom. The rumors about their appearance didn't do them justice - they looked both ancient and ageless at the same time.

  I spotted Marcus standing with his parents in the front row. The pendant I'd given him caught the magical light, making the copper wire look like it was moving on its own. His face shone with a new kind of energy, and something else I couldn't quite name. Our eyes met briefly before Chief Morris guided me toward the circle.

  The villagers' collective breath seemed to hold as I approached. These were people I'd known my whole life - the baker who snuck me extra sweet rolls, the carpenter who let Marcus and me play in his woodpile, the shepherd who taught us to whistle with grass stems. But now they watched with an intensity that made me feel like a stranger.

  The stones' rotation slowed as I drew closer, their colors pulsing in time with my racing heart. The Elders remained motionless, but I felt their attention shift to me like a physical weight.

  "Step forward, young one." The Elder's voice carried both warmth and authority, like distant thunder on a summer evening.

  I searched for Marcus one last time. He gripped the pendant tight and gave me a firm nod that seemed to say "You've got this." The sight steadied my trembling legs.

  Mother and Father stood close together, their faces glowing with pride. Father winked at me while Mother wiped a tear from her cheek, both offering encouraging smiles that made my chest swell with courage.

  The stones continued their hypnotic dance as I stepped into the circle. The air felt different here - thicker somehow, charged with possibility. My ceremonial tunic's silver threads sparkled more intensely, as if responding to the ancient magic surrounding me.

  The Elder who had spoken moved closer, his robes rippling like water despite the still air. Up close, his eyes held depths I couldn't fathom, like looking into a well that went down forever.

  "Center yourself, James." His weathered hand gestured to the exact middle of the circle. "Let the stones guide you."

  I took those final steps, my bare feet tingling against the cool stone floor. The floating rocks slowed their rotation until they hung motionless in the air, their inner light pulsing in perfect unison.

  The weight of tradition pressed down on me - generations of villagers had stood in this very spot, waiting to discover their true nature. Now it was my turn.

  The Elders' voices rose in harmony, speaking words in an ancient language I'd never heard before. The stones surrounding me blazed brighter, their light seeming to pulse in time with the chants.

  The air grew thick and heavy, pressing against my skin. My heart thundered in my chest as waves of energy rippled through the circle. The stone floor beneath my feet warmed, sending tingles up my legs.

  The Elders' chanting grew louder, their voices weaving together in complex patterns that made my head spin. Colors swirled around me - blues and greens and golds all bleeding into each other. The floating stones spun faster, their light stretching into ribbons that wrapped around me like glowing ropes.

  My feet left the ground, and my stomach lurched as I floated upward. The ceremonial tunic billowed around me, its silver threads blazing like captured starlight. The air thickened until it felt like moving through honey, yet I continued to rise.

  The Elders' chanting reached a fever pitch, their voices weaving through the air in patterns I could almost see. My skin tingled as waves of energy washed over me, each pulse making the floating stones pulse brighter.

  The room spun below me - faces turned upward, mouths open in awe. I caught glimpses of Marcus clutching his pendant, Mother gripping Father's arm, Chief Morris standing tall and proud. They grew smaller as I rose higher, until they were just a sea of blurred colors beneath me.

  Pressure built in my chest, like something trying to break free. The sensation spread through my limbs, making my fingers and toes burn with an inner fire. My heart hammered against my ribs as if trying to escape.

  The stones circling below me began to spin faster, their light stretching upward in spiraling ribbons that wrapped around my suspended form. Each band of light sent shocks through my body, like lightning dancing across my skin.

  I couldn't tell if I was breathing anymore. The air itself seemed to pulse with power, pressing in from all sides. The Elders' voices rose and fell in ancient rhythms that made the very stones of the hall vibrate in response.

  Through it all, I floated in the center of the maelstrom, suspended between earth and sky as magic older than time itself worked its will upon me.

  The pressure in my chest built to an impossible peak. Every nerve in my body sang with raw energy, like lightning trapped beneath my skin. The Elders' chants wove through the air, their voices merging into a single thunderous note that shook the foundations of the hall.

  The spinning lights blurred into a solid wall of radiance around me. My ceremonial tunic's silver threads blazed white-hot, though I felt no pain - only a deep, resonating power that threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

  This was it. The moment every child dreamed of, the threshold between what was and what would be. My heart no longer beat - it pulsed in time with the ancient magic swirling through the air.

  The Elders' voices rose in one final, earth-shaking crescendo. The wall of light contracted around me, pressing inward with unstoppable force. This was the moment - I could feel it in my bones, in my blood, in my very soul.

  The awakening was here.

  The power surging through me suddenly turned cold. The light surrounding me flickered, its warm glow replaced by harsh shadows that shouldn't exist. My stomach lurched as the floating sensation changed to something darker, heavier.

  The Elders' chanting faltered. Through the swirling chaos, I saw their faces twist with concern. The eldest raised his hands higher, his voice growing more urgent as he tried to maintain the ritual's flow.

  Something writhed beneath my skin, different from the usual awakening energy I'd heard about. This felt wrong - like thorns scraping against my bones. The silver threads in my tunic darkened to an oily black, spreading like ink through water.

  The wrongness intensified as whispers rippled through the crowd below. A sharp crack split the air - one of the floating stones had broken formation. It shot away from the circle like a bolt of lightning, streaking past the Elders before slamming into the floor with enough force to shake the entire hall. The impact drove it deep into solid stone, sending spider-web cracks racing across the ancient tiles.

  "Hold the circle!" The eldest Elder's voice carried an edge of panic I'd never heard before. His weathered hands trembled as he fought to maintain control of the remaining stones.

  The darkness writhing under my skin grew colder. My ceremonial tunic had turned completely black now, the silver threads gone as if they'd never existed. The villagers' faces below blurred into a sea of fear and confusion. I caught glimpses of Mother clutching Father's arm, her knuckles white. Marcus stood frozen, one hand gripping the pendant.

  The two remaining Elders moved closer together, their voices rising in desperate harmony as they tried to salvage the ceremony. Sweat beaded on their foreheads, their robes whipping around them in a wind that shouldn't exist indoors.

  The magic that had filled me moments ago now felt like it was being torn away. Each pulse of energy ripped through my body, not entering but escaping - as if something inside me was desperately trying to push it out. My skin burned with cold fire where the power fled, leaving hollow spaces that ached like missing teeth.

  "This isn't right," one of the Elders muttered, his voice tight with strain. "The energy pattern is inverting."

  I wanted to scream but couldn't find my voice.

  Another stone cracked and shot away from the circle, embedding itself in the far wall. The impact sent tremors through the hall, and screams erupted from the crowd below. Through blurred vision, I saw villagers backing away from the circle, their faces twisted with fear.

  "Hold him steady!" The eldest Elder's voice cracked with effort. "We can't let the connection break!"

  But I could feel it breaking anyway. The magic wasn't just leaving - it was fleeing, as if something about me repelled it. Each surge of power that should have filled me instead ricocheted away, leaving me emptier than before. My chest felt hollow, carved out from the inside by whatever force was rejecting the awakening.

  The remaining stone spun wildly, its light flickering like a dying flame. The Elders' chanting grew more desperate as they fought to maintain control, but I could sense their grip slipping. Above their voices, I heard Mother calling my name, her words thick with terror.

  I opened my mouth to cry out to Mother and Father, desperate to tell them I was okay, but no sound escaped my raw throat. The magical energies whirled around me in chaotic patterns.

  A violent tremor rocked through the circle. The final stone exploded into fragments, and the invisible force holding me aloft vanished. My stomach lurched as I plummeted toward the ground. The floor rushed up to meet me with frightening speed.

  I slammed into the stone tiles with bone-crushing force. All the air rushed from my lungs in an instant, leaving me gasping like a fish on dry land. Pain radiated through every inch of my body. My vision blurred as I struggled to draw breath, my chest refusing to expand.

  The impact had scattered the ceremonial circle. Broken stones lay strewn across the floor, their magical light completely extinguished. Through watering eyes, I saw the Elders stumbling back, their faces pale with exhaustion and shock.

  "James!" Mother's voice cracked with panic. Footsteps thundered toward me, but I still couldn't breathe. My lungs burned as I fought to pull in air, each attempt sending fresh waves of agony through my chest.

  I tried to push myself up, but my arms trembled and gave out. The cold stone pressed against my cheek as black spots danced at the edges of my vision. The ceremonial tunic, now dull and lifeless, clung to my sweat-soaked skin.

  Through the haze of pain, I heard Mother's footsteps reach me first. Her hands, warm and familiar, cradled my head. The stone floor's chill seeped through my ruined tunic as I struggled for air.

  "Nova, hurry!" Mother's voice cracked with fear.

  Father's boots skidded across the floor as he dropped beside me. His hands glowed with golden light as he pressed them against my chest. Warmth spread through my frozen lungs, chasing away the crushing weight that had settled there. The healing magic flowed like summer sunshine through my battered body.

  My chest expanded suddenly, and sweet air rushed into my starving lungs. I gasped and coughed, each breath easier than the last as Father's power worked through me. Mother's fingers stroked my hair as the pain ebbed away.

  "That's it, breathe slowly," Father murmured, his hands still pulsing with healing light. "Just like that."

  The black spots cleared from my vision as oxygen returned to my brain. Mother's tear-streaked face came into focus above me, her eyes wide with worry. Father's brow was furrowed in concentration as he continued channeling his magic.

  As Father's healing magic flowed through me, strength returned to my limbs. The pain faded to a dull ache, and my breathing steadied. Mother helped me sit up, her hands gentle but trembling.

  "VACUIIIIII!" The Elder's shrill cry shattered the tense silence. "Vacui!"

  The word hit me like a physical blow. Gasps rippled through the crowd as villagers stumbled back, creating a widening circle around me. Faces I'd known my whole life twisted with horror and revulsion.

  "No," Mother whispered, her arms tightening around me. "There must be some mistake."

  Murmurs spread through the hall like wildfire. I caught fragments of whispered conversations - "cursed," "empty," "bad omen." The baker who'd always smiled at me now covered her mouth in shock. The carpenter pulled his children behind him, as if protecting them from something dangerous.

  Marcus stood rooted in place, his face pale as chalk. The pendant I'd made him caught the light as his hand fell limply to his side. His father, Chief Morris, gripped his shoulder and pulled him back a step.

  The Elders conferred in hushed tones, their faces grave. The eldest approached cautiously, his staff tapping against the cracked stone floor. "The signs are unmistakable. The magic rejected him completely. He is Vacui."

  The word echoed through the hall again, and more people backed away. My stomach churned as the full weight of what was happening crashed over me. Vacui - empty, void, less than human. Everything I'd dreamed of, everything I'd hoped to become, crumbled to ash in an instant.

  Chief Morris's words thundered through the hall, each syllable striking like physical blows. "Three hundred years. Three centuries without a single Vacui in our village, and now..." His voice trembled with barely contained disgust, the same revulsion I saw mirrored in the faces of everyone around us.

  "This is a shame to our entire village," Chief Morris continued, his fists clenched at his sides. "A sign of bad omens to come." The crowd murmured in fearful agreement, and I saw several villagers make protective gestures against evil - the same ones they used when passing graveyards or speaking of curses.

  I looked to Marcus, desperate to see any trace of the friendship we'd shared just yesterday. But his eyes darted away from mine, fixing on some distant point on the wall. The pendant I'd made him dangled loosely from his fingers, as if he couldn't bear to hold it properly anymore.

  My chest tightened, not from pain this time, but from something worse. The promise we'd made by the river felt like it had happened in another lifetime. Best friends forever. The greatest mages ever. Those words turned to ash in my mouth.

  Mother's arms still wrapped protectively around me, but I felt Father's healing touch falter for just a moment. The golden warmth of his magic flickered, like a candle caught in a sudden draft.

  "James," Mother whispered, her voice breaking. "We'll figure this out. We'll-"

  But what was there to figure out? I'd heard how the Vacui lived in other villages were - always on the outskirts, barely acknowledged, surviving on scraps and charity. Now those same looks of revulsion and fear were directed at me by people who'd known me since birth.

  The baker who'd given me extra sweets just last week now clutched her apron as if it could shield her. The blacksmith's son, who I'd played with countless times, buried his face in his father's leg. Even old Miss Leta, crossed her fingers in the ancient ward against evil.

  Marcus still wouldn't look at me. His father's grip on his shoulder tightened, pulling him further back into the crowd. The pendant slipped from his fingers, clinking against the stone floor. The sound echoed through the sudden silence, marking the death of everything I'd ever dreamed of becoming.

  The room spun around me, faces blurring into smears of color despite Father's healing magic flowing through my body. My heart slammed against my ribs like it wanted to break free. Each breath came shorter and faster than the last, as if the air itself was turning to water in my lungs.

  Mother's arms felt distant now, like they belonged to someone else. The whispers of the crowd merged into a roaring in my ears that drowned out everything else. Cold sweat broke out across my skin as tremors ran through my limbs.

  "James? James, look at me." Mother's voice seemed to come from very far away.

  The floor tilted beneath me. Dark spots danced at the edges of my vision as the world spun faster. My fingers and toes tingled with pins and needles. I couldn't feel my face.

  "His pulse is racing." Father's voice floated somewhere above me. The golden warmth of his magic felt muffled now, like sunshine through thick clouds.

  I tried to focus on Mother's face, but it kept sliding away from me. The room swayed and lurched like the deck of a ship in a storm. My chest grew tighter with each gasping breath.

  "I can't..." The words stuck in my throat. "I can't breathe..."

  The trembling in my limbs grew worse. I was going to shake apart, scatter across the cracked stone floor like those ceremonial stones. The roaring in my ears grew louder until it drowned out everything else.

  My vision narrowed to a tiny tunnel as darkness crept in from all sides. The last thing I saw before the blackness took me was Marcus's pendant lying abandoned on the floor, its green stone now as dull and lifeless as I had become.