Rain pattered gently on the concrete as Riku Yamano tightened his coat around him, a six-pack of beer dangling from his right hand. The night air was cold, but not enough to numb the dull ache in his chest.
"She's gonna kill me for taking so long..."
He smiled faintly.
Home was a cramped, two-room apartment that always smelled like ramen and old socks. But it was theirs—his and Ayaka's. His older sister. His anchor. His disaster of a roommate.
They weren't close in the traditional, perfect-family way.
But when their parents died five years ago, Ayaka stepped up. She kept them together. She joked too much, drank too much, and cried when she thought he wasn't looking. But she never let Riku fall apart.
So when she asked him to grab some drinks, even in the rain, he didn't hesitate.
He never hesitated for her.
The light turned red.
Riku slowed his steps, lost in thought. College was a blur. Friends came and went. His future? Undefined. He felt stuck—like life had paused somewhere around seventeen and forgot to hit play again.
Then, movement.
A little girl, no older than six, darted into the street. She didn't see the bus.
But Riku did.
"HEY! WAIT!"
He dropped the beer.
He ran.
The sound of tires screeching on wet asphalt.
The blare of a horn.
The girl froze. Eyes wide. Silent.
Riku didn't think.
He shoved her. Hard. Away from the path of the bus.
Then—impact.
The world went silent.
There was no sound.
No light.
Just weightless cold, and the fading memory of her small hands and her terrified eyes.
Did she survive? Did I save her?
A shape stirred in the void—impossible to see, yet undeniable. A presence like ancient gravity. A voice spoke, but not in words.
It echoed through the bones of existence.
Zarakel (whispering through all things):
"So... you gave your life for another."
"A curious choice. Not many mortals do."
Riku tried to speak. His voice didn't exist anymore.
Zarakel:
"Fear not. Your death was noticed, little flame."
"And I have a... use for you."
There was a pause. The silence stretched like eternity.
Zarakel (softer now):
"This world is a story. And every story needs a protagonist."
"How lucky you are... to be chosen by the one who writes them all."
Riku's soul felt like it was being unraveled, rewritten, reknit.
Zarakel:
"Rise, Riku. Your new tale begins now."
Warmth. That's the first thing Riku feels.
Not the sterile warmth of hospital lights, but something deeper—living warmth, like sunlight filtered through golden curtains on a lazy morning. There's weight too. A comforting pressure, like being held.
Sound bleeds in next. A heartbeat. Soft murmurs. Then, a voice—gentle, musical, and somehow familiar.
Elira (whispering):
"There you are... you're finally here."
Riku blinks. His vision is cloudy, but light dances through it. The voice comes from a woman—blonde hair like honey, green eyes full of life. Her skin glows faintly, like someone carved her from magic itself.
Wait... am I a baby?
He tries to move. Arms? Useless. Legs? Nubs. Mouth? Floppy fish-mode activated.
A second voice cuts in—loud, proud, and instantly ridiculous.
Kaelen (grinning):
"Yup, definitely got your eyes, Elira. But I'm telling you, the kid's got my energy. He's gonna grow up swinging a sword bigger than he is!"
Elira (smirking):
"Or burning down the garden while trying to summon wind spirits."
Kaelen:
"Exactly! A perfect childhood!"
She chuckles and cradles baby Riku tighter.
Elira (gently):
"His soul feels... warm. Like a flickering flame."
Kaelen:
"Then we'll make sure it burns bright."
Riku listens, half-lost in newborn haze. But deep in his infant chest, something ancient stirs.
He's not just alive.
He's aware.
And somewhere, far beyond this peaceful world, something watches him—
—and smiles.
[Time Skip: Age 5 — The Little Flame Grows]
Riku had grown. A bit. Okay, barely. He was still short, but full of boundless energy and too many questions.
Their cottage sat at the edge of a forest, surrounded by misty trees and talking birds that lied constantly. Elira and Kaelen raised him with a weird, perfect balance—magic lessons in the morning, sword practice in the afternoon, and chaotic parenting all day long.
Kaelen was a walking muscle-core with the maturity of a ten-year-old.
Kaelen (swinging a wooden sword):
"Observe! The legendary stance of the Blade God of Blistering Lightning!"
Riku (deadpan):
"You're holding it backwards."
Kaelen (twisting it):
"...Exactly! A surprise technique. Confuses the enemy."
Riku:
"Dad, that's just being wrong on purpose."
Kaelen:
"Wrong? Or so wrong it circles back to genius?"
He slashes dramatically and stumbles over a rock. Riku bursts out laughing.
That evening, Riku wandered into the house, still giggling. His eyes landed on one of Elira's books—thick, leather-bound, pulsing faintly with magic. The cover was etched with silver symbols that shimmered in rhythm with his heartbeat.
He pulled it from the shelf and flipped through it, stopping on a page titled: "Foundations of Elemental Control."
Riku (squinting):
"...Water... flow... rise... form..."
A soft hum began in the air. The symbols lifted off the page, glowing.
Riku:
"Uh-oh."
A sphere of water formed in the air, beautiful and hypnotic—until it doubled in size.
Then tripled.
Then—
BOOOOOOOM!
A geyser of magical water EXPLODED from the room, smashing the door open and flooding half the house. Riku hit the ground with a wet thud, coughing and soaked, staring at the hole he just created in the wall.
Kaelen, still practicing outside, turned mid-pose and was BLASTED off his feet by the tidal wave.
Kaelen (from the mud):
"What the actual—?!"
Riku peeked out from the ruins of the doorway, hair dripping, guilt flooding his face.
Riku:
"...I made water."
Kaelen lay in a puddle, blinking at the sky, soaked from head to toe. Then he laughed.
Kaelen (laughing hard):
"You made water? YOU NEARLY MADE A RIVER!"
Riku (tiny):
"...sorry."
Elira arrived moments later, her eyes scanning the damage, and then—
She smiled.
Elira (genuinely proud):
"You cast a spell, Riku. And you didn't even explode! That's impressive."
Kaelen (still laughing):
"He's a prodigy! Or a hazard! Either way, that's my boy!"
[Scene: Nightfall — The Whisper Returns]
That night, Riku lay in bed, bundled under thick blankets, the sound of crickets humming outside.
But then—silence.
The breeze halted. The room darkened.
And a voice whispered again, colder than before, but smoother... almost fond.
Zarakel (soft):
"The flame awakens. But beware, little one..."
"Magic is power. And power always demands a price."
Riku sat up slowly. His heart raced, but his mind stayed calm.
Who are you?
No answer.
Only a faint chuckle, like ink spilling in the back of his mind.
Then the breeze returned. And the world moved on, unaware of what had just looked through him.
☉ ַיְהִי בְּרֵאשִׁית סִפּוּר הַגּוֹרָל
[End of Chapter 1]