Lightning Bound

Chapter 1: The Tempest Awakens

One... Two... Three... Four... CRASH. Aiden counted the seconds, his gaze fixed on the dark clouds rolling outside his window. The storm had been relentless for days, its fury a sharp contrast to the short-lived squalls that usually swept through Elandria. Each flash of lightning, each rumble of thunder, seemed to vibrate with the same unease that churned within him. Today was Glyphday—a rite of passage that would bind him to a destiny he felt increasingly uncertain about.

At seventeen, this day should have been a milestone of excitement, yet all Aiden could feel was a gnawing apprehension. His room was littered with crumpled sketches, each one a failed attempt to connect with the glyphs he had studied so diligently. His brother's Glyphday, two years ago, had been a spectacle—his confidence was palpable as he awaited the Dragon Glyph, a symbol of fire and power that seemed tailor-made for him. And, as if the world itself conspired to validate his certainty, that's exactly what he received. Aiden, however, was staring at a blank page, both literally and figuratively, with no clear sense of what his future held.

The storm outside showed signs of abating, but the fog in Aiden's mind only thickened. He heard the familiar heavy footsteps of his brother ascending the stairs, each step a stark reminder of the day he had been dreading for weeks. The door rattled under his brother's fist, his voice booming through the wood, "Rise and shine, Aiden! It's GLYYYYYYYPHDAAAAAAY!" His enthusiasm should have been infectious, but Aiden only felt a growing weight in his chest, like a stone lodged in his gut.

Glyphs were more than just symbols in Elandria—they were the foundation of society, shaping the destinies of those who bore them. Some glyphs, though mundane, were essential to the fabric of their world. The harvest glyph allowed farmers to command the growth of crops, sustaining life with a mere touch. The light glyph brought illumination to homes, chasing away the darkness. His father's miner glyph had made him a pillar of their community, extracting the stone and metals that fueled Elandria's prosperity. And then there was his brother, blessed with the Dragon glyph, capable of summoning fire with a flick of his wrist. Aiden had envied him, the flames a visible manifestation of power and purpose. But envy soon turned to dread as Aiden realised that nothing about his own future felt as certain.

When his glyph finally revealed itself, Aiden knew his path would be set in stone. If he received the miner glyph, he would be thrust into the mines, following in his father's footsteps by dawn. If the Dragon glyph chose him, the military or police would likely claim him, unless his slight frame relegated him to some lesser fate, like a circus performer. The thought of the military sent a shiver down his spine. There were storms on the horizon—far more menacing than the one that had just passed—and this time, Elandria wouldn't be prepared.

Whispers had been circulating for months—rumours of a madman wielding a glyph so powerful it threatened to unravel the very fabric of reality. No one had seen this mysterious figure, and many dismissed the tales as mere superstition. But Aiden had noticed the change in the air. Shadows seemed to linger longer in the alleys, and strangers had begun to appear at the edge of the city, their eyes glinting with something dark, something dangerous.

Aiden faced himself in the mirror, his head as foggy as the peaks of the Stormspire Mountains. He stares blankly at his Glyphday outfit. Deep blue trousers with a pure white shirt. As he buttons up his shirt he notices a lone glove by his dresser. It was customary on Glyphday, for new Glyphbearers to wear a glove on their non-glyph hand, so their glyph would be the core focus of their ensemble. However it brought a tear to Aiden's eye, as he recognises his father's initials embossed into the leather of the glove. Placing the glove on his hand felt like holding his father's hand for the first time in years, he laughs as he reminisces, seeing his Dad pulling diamonds from what looked like dull sandstone was like viewing a miracle for the first time. Aiden wipes his eyes and goes downstairs, the house is already empty, his family must be anxiously waiting for the ceremony. He meanders slowly through the town centre, fighting the urge to turn back and run. This is where he must finally confront his destiny.