Chapter 1: Chapter 1 - Awakening

“Tag, you’re it!”

Leon burst through the crowd, ducking and dodging between the townspeople. His friends ran ahead of him, laughing as they went. As he ran past his mother, he caught her eye and flashed a cheeky grin before speeding off again.

“Don’t go too far, kids!” his mother called after them. She watched him play, a soft smile on her face as she explored the harvest festival with some of the other mothers.

Leon knew she thought it got lonely in the house when it was just the two of them, so she was happy when he got to play with the other children every now and again.

As Leon rounded the side of a particularly busy food stall, he came upon a small clearing in the crowd. It was the statue of the Goddess, the one that had been in the centre of the town for as long as anyone could remember. It towered above him and even all of the adults, though to them, not quite so much. The stone looked remarkably clean, almost as if it had been sculpted only yesterday. Clearly, some kind of magic had been engraved onto the statue to keep it looking this new despite its age.

The townspeople kept a respectful distance, especially on the day of the harvest festival, so anyone could come to give thanks and pray.

Leon looked up into the face of the Goddess, her hand outstretched in a kind, welcoming gesture, and clapped his hands together for a quick prayer of thanks. The festival today was to honour her after all, so it felt right.

“Thank you for the food on our tables, and grant us your protection from the demons, umm... please.” It wasn’t his finest prayer, but he was eleven. He was sure the Goddess would forgive him.

A sudden noise behind him snapped him out of his reverie—oh right, tag! He sprang into a state of alert, trying to see if he could spot one of his friends... and froze.

It was as if the world itself had taken a deep breath and everything collapsed inward. The air felt thick, heavy, like it was pressing down on him from all sides. The space around him seemed to pull towards a single point, as if his whole reality was being consumed. A sharp crack of stone breaking resonated from behind him, and the myriad sounds of the festival abruptly cut short, replaced by a deep rumbling hum.

He had just enough time to whirl and see the jagged line running from the hand of the statue all the way across its surface before his body tensed. His vision began to fade, and the ground felt like it had disappeared beneath him, leaving him hovering in the grip of something immense and unseen.

----------------------------------------

Leon’s mother looked up from the basket in her hands just as the sharp crack split the air. Her heart sank when she saw the statue of the Goddess and… her Leon standing frozen before it.

“Leon!” she cried out and ran towards him, but he was already lost.

The world exploded into colour and sound.

He was no longer Leon. He was an ancient priest, kneeling before the Goddess, his hands pressed against the stone in whispered prayer, begging for the life of his daughter.

Then a soldier, blood on his sword as he marched past the same statue years later, returning from war.

A young child, weeping in her mother’s arms as she stood beside the statue.

Faces. Voices. Lives.

----------------------------------------

“Leon!”

His mother’s panicked voice cut through the haze of memories, but her words couldn’t reach him. Not through the flood of lives that weren’t his own.

“These aren’t mine.” He thought. “They can’t be mine.” But at the same time, they were—each life, each memory burning into him as if he’d lived them all.

A scream tore through his throat, but it didn’t feel like his own. His body shuddered, his heart pounding as the flood of memories bore down on him. His knees buckled, the pressure forcing him down until he could barely breathe.

And then—nothing.

The world went dark. The lives of strangers slipped from his grasp, and the festival faded to silence.

----------------------------------------

Leon lay still beneath the shadow of the Goddess’ cracked statue. His mother cradled him, her arms trembling as she rocked back and forth.

“Please, Leon... please wake up.” She knew their peaceful daily lives were over. The whispers had already started.

Most of the villagers who had been laughing and dancing now stood frozen, some backing away from Leon, others hunched over in silent prayer. A few crept closer, eyes wide with curiosity and awe.

“It’s happened… an Evoker, right here in our little village,” one voice whispered, equal parts reverence and curiosity.

“The Goddess herself has blessed him,” another murmured, almost in awe, though their eyes flicked towards Leon’s mother with quiet sympathy.

“His life will never be the same. Neither will hers,” someone else added softly.

“The Lord’s men will be here soon… they’ll take care of him. Of course, they always do.”

“A reward’s due to whoever reports it. He’ll be trained, taken to the capital no doubt,” someone whispered with a touch of envy.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“At least his family will be well looked after now,” another said, a hint of respect in their tone.

----------------------------------------

Leon felt himself floating in the dark. His head throbbed with a dull pain and his chest felt tight. Somewhere distant, he could hear his mother’s pleading, but it was muffled, as if it came from the bottom of a deep well.

When Leon opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his mother’s tear-stained face. She was smiling, but her eyes were red and brimming with tears. He recognised the look she was giving him. It was the same one she wore when she was trying to be strong.

“It’s okay, Leon. Everything will be okay.”

He knew it wasn’t. Even with his splitting headache, he managed to piece together what had happened.

He had awakened.

----------------------------------------

Leon’s body felt like he’d just done an intense day’s labour at the farm. Surprisingly, the sensation was quickly fading, replaced by one of increasing strength—stronger than he’d ever felt before. He felt great! Energised, even. His head, however, still pounded as if it had been kicked by a horse.

He was snapped out of his daze by his mother stroking his hair.

“Mom… what happened?” His voice was raspy, weaker than usual. Even though he had more than a suspicion, he wanted to hear it from her.

“You collapsed… the awakening, it must have been too much… but you’re alright now. You’re safe.” Her voice was tinged with both relief and fear.

Leon tried to sit up as his head spun. “I saw things. People. Memories that weren’t mine. So many. I...” He winced in pain as his own mind stopped him from recalling it all. Clearly, this wasn’t something he was ready for again.

“Shh.” She held a hand on his chest and back as he sat up slowly. “It’s part of your power, I think. Apparently, each one is unique. I just hope yours doesn’t always cause you this much pain.”

She looked down at him with concern. Her eyes were beginning to dry, and he could see her thinking, planning what they needed to do next. She was always good at that—when his dad passed away, she had to plan for them both on her own.

----------------------------------------

A whisper cut through Leon’s reminiscing. “It’s him… the boy’s an Evoker now.”

Leon became aware of the crowd again. For a moment, it had just been him and his mother. His eyes darted from person to person.

“The Lord’s men will be here soon, no doubt... they’ll take him away,” a villager nodded solemnly.

Leon snapped his head back round in panic. “What do they mean, Mom? I don’t want to go anywhere!” He was confused. His head hurt. He wished people would stop staring.

His mother’s grip on his arm tightened. “Leon...” She looked him in the eyes. She always did this when it was something he needed to understand completely. “You’re an Evoker now. That means the Lord—Lord Roderic—he’s going to take you to his estate. You’ll... you’ll be trained, given everything you need to become who you’re meant to be.”

Leon couldn’t conjure a response. It was all too much to take in at once.

----------------------------------------

A tall, muscular man in chainmail strode through the crowd, flanked by two other, slightly younger guards. They made a beeline for Leon—it was obvious around whom the commotion was centred. The captain knelt down to their level and addressed his mother first. His tone was authoritative but not unkind.

“Madam, your son has been identified as an Evoker. He must be taken to Highfield Manor immediately for education and preparation. It is the law.”

She met his eyes, a pleading expression painted on her features. “He’s just a boy! He doesn’t understand...” It was almost a whisper.

The captain ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “Listen, Lady...” He paused for a name.

“Mira.”

“Lady Mira. You’ll come with him. Lord Roderic has arranged for your accommodations. But from now on, your son’s education is under the Lord’s charge, and you know it’s better than anything he’d ever have gotten otherwise.”

Leon tightened his grip on his mother’s dress. “Mom, do we have to go? Can’t we stay here?”

She looked back at him, though it took her some effort to stay strong. She spoke softly. “We can’t, Leon. We have to go with them. It’s the only way.” She looked back up at the captain. “You’ll take care of him? He’s all I have.”

The captain was reassuring, despite his gruff appearance. “He’ll be safe. The Lord’s men are the best. But the boy has a duty now.”

----------------------------------------

Leon and Mira sat awkwardly in the nicest carriage they’d ever seen. The seats were incredibly soft, and the bumping of the road was barely noticeable, a big step up from the rickety cart they had used on the farm. Mira was trying to keep her hands from trembling, forcing herself to be the rock in the storm for Leon. They’d allowed her to grab a few bits and pieces—mostly items of sentimental value—as they explained that all their clothing would likely be replaced, as befit their new status.

After a long, quiet carriage ride, Leon and Mira arrived at Highfield Manor. The estate was imposing, and the setting sun cast long shadows over the grand structure. Leon looked out the window, uneasy.

“This place... it’s nothing like home.”

Mira held her bag tightly. “No, it isn’t... but we’ll have to make the best of it.”

As the carriage door creaked open, Leon’s eyes fell on the man standing at the entrance of the manor. Lord Roderic was taller than Leon expected, his frame imposing against the backdrop of the estate. His dark hair, neatly trimmed, had the faintest streaks of grey at the temples, but the sharp lines of his face made him look far from old. His expression was unreadable—grey eyes cold and calculating, and they swept over Leon and his mother as if silently judging them as they dismounted and approached.

His clothes were immaculate—a finely tailored dark coat with not a wrinkle in sight, polished boots gleaming in the fading light. Everything about him screamed control. There was something almost military in the way he stood—shoulders square, posture rigid, as if he had never known the meaning of slouching. He didn’t raise his voice, but his presence alone made Leon straighten up instinctively, as though the man commanded respect just by standing there.

Roderic’s gaze lingered for a moment on Leon’s clothes—commoner’s wear, dirt-stained from the awakening. Leon could feel the silent scrutiny in those piercing grey eyes, and he realised instantly: this was not a man easily impressed.

He offered a small nod as they arrived before him. “Welcome to Highfield Manor. I trust your journey was without incident?” He continued, not waiting for an answer. “You’ve had a long ride, and I don’t expect you to be at your best just yet. Still...” His gaze still lingered on their dirt-stained clothing. “...You’ll soon learn that appearance carries weight, especially in noble circles.”

Mira immediately dropped into a half-bow, fixing her clothes slightly. Her hand was clutched tight to her chest. “Of course, my Lord. We understand.” Leon thought this was a bit unfair, as they’d been brought here from the festival without any chance to make themselves presentable, but he held back his words for now, seeing his mother’s steely expression.

“Good. Presentation is a reflection of your intentions and the respect you offer. When you’re in the company of nobles, they will judge you—fairly or not—by how you present yourself.” He paused for a moment, then added, “There are appropriate clothes waiting in your rooms.”

Leon felt even more uncomfortable and couldn’t stop himself from blurting out a question. “So we’re just supposed to start acting like nobles now?” He regretted it immediately as Lord Roderic narrowed his eyes and focused on him.

“You are expected to learn to navigate their world, not behave like a peasant with no regard for discipline.” His voice dropped, almost lowering to a whisper, as it took on a sharp edge. “That attitude will serve you poorly here, Leon. You’ll find nobles far less forgiving of insolence than I am.”

He stepped forward, locking eyes with Leon.

“Take this as your first lesson—words have consequences. You’ll have much to learn, and from what I see, I expect it won’t be easy.”