Chronicles of the Aetherborn

It had only been a week.

Seven days since Jordan stumbled through the Rift and woke beneath twin suns, bruised and lost. But to him, it felt like a lifetime. Every breath of this world was different. The air tasted sharp. The ground pulsed faintly with energy. Even silence had weight here.

Despite the strangeness, he'd adapted quickly—he had to. Ariana and her people had taken him in, given him shelter, food, even clothes stitched from bark-thread and woven mistleaf. In return, he helped however he could—hauling water, chopping firewood, and trying to make sense of a world that wasn't his.

Still, no power. Not even a spark.

Ariana checked him daily, hopeful. But each time, she'd shake her head.

"Whatever's inside you," she'd say, "is either deeply asleep… or deeply buried."

On the seventh night, a council gathering was called at the Stone Circle—a sacred site carved into a hill just outside the village. Ariana brought him along. She said it was time.

Elder Veyra stood in the center of the circle, cloaked in a shawl of living vines. The stars above swirled unnaturally, drawn toward the circle like water spiraling down a drain.

"You wish to understand this world," Veyra said, her voice strong despite her age. "Then listen—not with ears, but with bone."

She raised her hand, and glowing patterns began to swirl in the air. A floating map appeared, formed from pure Aetherlight. The audience of villagers fell silent as five distinct continents took shape.

"This is Nytherra," Veyra said, pointing to the central landmass. "Your feet now tread upon it. But know this—it is no sanctuary. It is a battlefield masked as a home."

She gestured to six glowing regions—each pulsing with its own color and crest.

"The kingdoms once stood united, long ago. But the fall of the empire shattered peace like stained glass. Now, treaties are as fragile as breath. Friends become traitors overnight."

Jordan's brow furrowed. The tension in the villagers' shoulders was unmistakable.

"What about the other lands?" he asked, speaking up.

Veyra smiled slightly.

"To the north: Aelvoria, realm of the timeless elves. Beautiful and cold as starlight."

"To the east: Draventh, where the wilds breathe dragons and the mountains walk."

"South lies Umakh-Kar, homeland of dwarves and deep-blooded warlocks—fire and forge bound as one."

"And far west…"

The image shimmered.

"Myrridon. Or what remains of it. A dead land. A memory carved into stone."

The map dimmed. Only a single ruined continent glowed faintly in red.

"They say it was one breath," Veyra whispered. "One. From the first Aetherborn. And a continent vanished."

As the lesson ended, the elders dispersed, but Jordan stayed seated, staring at the fading map. He didn't know why… but that last name—Aetherborn—clawed at something deep in his gut.

Ariana came to sit beside him.

"You okay?"

"I don't know. That word. Aetherborn… it feels like it's staring back at me."

She studied him, her green eyes sharp in the dim light. "You've been holding back."

He turned to her, defensive. "You think I haven't tried?"

"I think you're afraid of what happens if you do succeed."

He looked away.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Fear doesn't stop power. It feeds it."

Later that night, alone in the woods, Jordan couldn't sleep. He stood in a quiet clearing, fists clenched, breath fogging in the strange air.

"Come on," he growled to no one. "If something's inside me, I need it now. I need to know."

No answer.

Then—pain. Sudden and sharp, like lightning under the skin.

He fell to one knee as the mark on his back flared. Aether—the energy of this world—rushed toward him like a tide breaking its dam.

His veins shimmered faintly. His eyes glowed bright blue. The air around him bent, pulled inward.

Then—BOOM.

A burst of invisible pressure exploded outward, flattening grass and rattling trees. Light blazed from his body in waves.

And then—he collapsed.

He woke up staring at the stars.

Ariana knelt over him again. But this time, her expression wasn't concern.

It was fear.

"You didn't just touch the Aether," she said, voice quiet. "You commanded it."

Jordan blinked. His body trembled. His mind spun.

"I didn't mean to."

"That," she whispered, "is what makes it worse."