Autumn 4994, Lenare
Kylana stood at the tower window, looking out over the mountain village that was her home. From this vantage, she could just make out the edge of the Colosseum where her parent served Saint Bjarki. She avoided looking at it for too long.
Every door that opened or closed beyond her own caused her to flinch. In just a few hours, or perhaps moments, the Mages would come in with their magic inks and tattoo her, sealing her power away.
She wanted to run, but knew they would catch her. Part of her wondered if the real reason she didn't try was that Kylana knew she deserved it. The news had reached her that morning. The victim of her awakening had succumbed to the infection caused by the burns he'd suffered over the vast majority of his body. The novice priests and resident Paladin in the small and rather isolated village hadn't been enough to heal him in time.
Her eyes burned with tears of grief, guilt, and fear, and Kylana looked to the mountain peaks and cloudy sky to try and blink them away. That sky distracted her from her inner turmoil. It roiled and spun, the smoky-gray of promised rain turning black as soot.
Run...
Kylana grasped her head in pain, the voice resonating in her skull and making her shake. Except the shaking didn't stop...
Screams of surprise floated up from the streets below as an inkwell fell from the desk behind her to shatter with the tremors. Kylana looked behind her at the shards of black stained glass, and a flash of red lit the room from the window. The tower shook again, throwing her to her knees.
Pivoting back to the window, she saw the second lightning strike -purple this time- hit the mountain peak, and fell flat to the floor, covering her head as the rock exploded. She heard the screams intermixed with the sound of crashing stone and managed to crawl her way up the sill in time to see not just falling rocks but fire raining from the sky.
Kylana looked up with wide, terrified eyes as the mountain that had been a constant fixture in her life, steady, solid, dependable, spewed forth a billowing plume of black that mixed with the spinning clouds and rained ash and fire down upon her village. Magma, red and orange, and glowing in the darkness, gushed from the mountain peak, shooting high into the air and flooding out in a river that would all too soon wash over the fleeing villagers below.
Run...
She didn't flinch this time, only obeyed, crawling her way to the door and pulling herself up by the handle. It was locked, but the metal began to glow with her fear as her power melted the handle, adding yet more fire to that destroying her home below.
She sprinted down the spiral stairs with the resident Mages. No one tried to stop her or even took note. They fled out the wide double doors, hugging the side of the tower as the lava flowed towards them, the speed only slowed mildly by the burning buildings in its path.
Kylana hadn't managed to beat the molten death to the door and fell back a step as it rose up the stairs and began to flow into the tower. Behind her, Mages cowered, and two young apprentices, just past maturity, cried out in terror.
Run...
Kylana spun away from the door and scooped up one of the children, flinging him onto her back and hooking his legs with her arms, "Hold on."
"It burns..." he sobbed but held tight to her magically hot shoulders nonetheless as Kylana reached down and picked up the girl, holding her tight and crying to her chest.
She hesitated a moment, looking at the other Mages, but could only mutter a guilty, "I'm sorry..." before she turned away and sprinted into the lava.
Her boots and pants caught fire immediately, and the children screamed in her ears, kicking at her legs to remove the burning garments. She could feel the heat, but to her, the death that would claim so many was like hot mud and didn't burn her skin. She waded through the lava until it was shin-deep, her arms straining with the weight of the two thirteen-year-olds holding her down.
She could see the edge of the burning river and the fleeing backs of the villagers who'd managed to make it clear. Kylana called to them. A single man turned back, and Kylana nearly sobbed at the sight of her father, who quickly grabbed her mother's arm, spinning her around to gasp at their daughter wading through firey death towards them.
She made it to the edge of the lava and the two priests of Saint Bjarki reached out, taking the children from her. Her father tried to pull her towards him, but Kylana stepped back. Back into the lava. "There are more," she yelled over the roaring flames and continued rumble of the mountain.
"It's too late, Kylana. Please." her mother pleaded, but Kylana shook her head. She had to save as many as she could. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't.
Now free of the young burdens, Kylana ran back to the tower, lifting her knees high as the lava rose up her calves. Would she be able to carry any of the others? Even just one? But she had to try. Naked and afraid, she struggled back into the village.
Within only a few yards of the Mage's tower, the ground shook again. A flash of blue lit the darkness, in stark contrast with the orange glow of the lava. Kylana covered her head on instinct, and the mountain shot forth more stone to rain down around her. Striking the tower and sending it tumbling in a splash between her and her screaming parents.
She couldn't see them. Nor they, her. They would assume she was dead with the rest...
Run... Survive. You are meant for more.
The voice didn't hurt this time. It acted as a soothing balm to her fears. Her mind cleared, and so did the voice.
You are my Chosen Kylana. You have to live. To prevent this from happening countless more times...
Once again, Kylana ran. Away from the survivors and into the burning forest. She ran until she was sure her legs would give out from under her, then pushed forward to run some more. She had no idea how long she struggled through the still churning molten rock or how far she'd gotten. All she knew was that she would survive, and she would make her way to her destiny.
