The Stone Of Prophecy

The wind howled through the cliffs of Durnhollow, shrieking like a beast denied prey. Thunder rolled in the distant skies as the storm crept closer, its shadow blackening the horizon. But in the quiet village nestled beneath the stone ridges, life continued, mostly undisturbed.

Kaelen stood at the edge of the old ruins that crowned the north hill, his dark cloak whipped by the wind, eyes fixed on the monolithic stone that rose from the earth like the tip of a buried mountain. No one else in Durnhollow dared come this far anymore-not since the earth shook last spring and the stone began to hum.

He reached out and placed his palm against the surface. Cold. Always cold, even in summer. But today, it pulsed. Once. Twice. Like a heartbeat.

Kaelen stumbled back, his breath caught. The stone had never done that before.

"Kaelen!"

He turned. A girl approached, slipping through the mist like a wraith. Her name was Lira his friend since childhood, one of the few who didn't think he was mad for visiting the ancient site.

"You shouldn't be here," she said, pulling her cloak tighter. Her golden hair was damp from the mist. "The Council declared this hill forbidden."

"They declared it forbidden because they don't understand it." Kaelen's voice trembled with something between fear and awe. "It's waking up, Lira. I felt it. The stone "Hummed again?" she interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Kaelen, you say this every month."

"No. Not hummed." He paused. "It beat. Like a heart."

That made her hesitate.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The wind died down, and in the heavy silence, the stone's surface shimmered faintly, as if catching the light from a sun that no longer shone.

"We need to tell someone," Lira whispered.

Kaelen shook his head. "They won't believe us. They'll think I touched it too many times and lost my mind."

"Or they'll think it's finally happening."

He turned sharply. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated. "My grandmother told me stories... back before her mind slipped. She spoke of the Stone of Prophecy an ancient relic said to choose a Seer when the world edges toward ruin. The stone was lost ages ago, but the signs match. Earthquakes. Thunder in clear skies. The old dreams returning."

Kaelen stepped back, the blood draining from his face. "I've had dreams," he admitted. "Flashes, mostly. A tower on fire. A woman with no eyes. A shadow swallowing the sun."

Lira's breath caught. "That's one of the visions," she said. "The woman without eyes. She sees the fall of kings."

Something rumbled beneath their feet, a low thrumming vibration that made the very stone tremble. The monolith flared with a sudden, blinding light. Kaelen shielded his eyes. Lira screamed.

Then silence.

When Kaelen opened his eyes, the hilltop was dark again. The mist had thickened, muffling the world in a dense, cold fog. But something was different.

The stone had cracked.

A thin, glowing line ran from its base to its peak, pulsing softly like a wound that bled light.

Kaelen approached again. Against his better judgment, he reached out and touched the fissure.

This time, he didn't feel cold.

He felt "pulled".

The world lurched, and suddenly he was not on the hill anymore.

He stood in a vast plain of ash and bone. Above him loomed a sunless sky, streaked with fire and shadow. In the distance, a monstrous tower rose into the void black, twisted, and impossible.

Kaelen staggered, disoriented. The ground pulsed beneath his feet. Whispers curled through the air.

"Seer!"

"Bearer!"

"Chosen!"

He turned in circles. The whispers came from all directions. They echoed in his mind, scraping against the edges of sanity.

"Who's there?" he shouted.

You.

You must see what comes.

You must find the Stone.

The true one.

A figure emerged from the smoke. Clad in ragged robes, its face hidden beneath a veil of gold, the being raised a hand and pointed directly at him.

You are the beginning. And the end. The world turns upon your path.

Then everything shattered.

Kaelen awoke with a cry, gasping for breath. He was back on the hill. Lira knelt beside him, pale and terrified.

"You disappeared," she said. "You touched the stone and just vanished for a moment then you fell, like you'd been struck."

He sat up slowly, heart pounding. "It... it showed me something. A place. A wasteland."

Lira nodded grimly. "The Ash Plains."

"You've seen it?"

She shook her head. "Only in drawings. In prophecy books no one reads anymore."

Kaelen turned back to the stone. The fissure still glowed, faint and steady.

"I think it chose me," he said, almost to himself.

"Then you have to go," Lira replied.

He blinked at her. "Go?"

"To find the real Stone of Prophecy. If that was a vision... it wasn't a warning. It was a calling."

Kaelen stared at the horizon. The storm had come at last, rain swept over the hills in silver curtains, and the thunder was no longer distant.

"I don't know where to begin."

"You'll know," she said. "That's what it means to be chosen, isn't it?"

A strange calm settled over him. Despite the fear, despite the storm, he felt clearer than he ever had before. Something had awakened, not just in the stone but in him.

The path ahead would be perilous. He didn't yet know of the assassins who already hunted the Seer.

But the call had been made.

And Kaelen had answered.