Echoes of Ancient Magic

The world warped around me, a kaleidoscope of fractured light and screaming winds. One moment, I was clinging to Mom and Dad, the raw terror of the hunters’ curses a palpable thing in the air, the next, I was somewhere else entirely. Not just physically, but… spiritually. It felt like my very soul was being torn apart and stitched back together with threads of starlight and shadows. This wasn’t the familiar hum of the energy I’d felt when Dad and Mom first showed me their abilities, the kind that felt like a warm, crackling fire. This was a storm. A tempest. An ocean of power that dwarfed everything I’d ever known.

I could feel it, a vast, ancient reservoir stirring within me, a slumbering dragon finally stretching its wings. It pulsed with a raw, primal energy, a language older than words, older than the very concept of sorcery as Mom and Dad understood it. It was beautiful and terrifying, a force so immense it threatened to consume me from the inside out. My own curses, the ones that had just barely kept the hunters at bay, felt like mere sparks compared to this inferno.

“David! David, can you hear me?!” Mom’s voice, usually so sharp and clear, was strained, a thread of panic weaving through it.