Dairin: The Stoneborn

Chapter 2: The Call of the Earth

Several months passed since the tremor, and Dairin's life continued in the rhythm of the village. He worked alongside his father, repairing walls, tilling soil, and hauling stone. Yet, the feeling of the earth calling to him never left. The pulse beneath the ground had grown stronger, more frequent, and Dairin found himself waking in the middle of the night, unable to shake the sensation that something—some force—was waiting for him.

One morning, as the village prepared for the long trek to the nearby river to gather water, an elder named Munir came to Ojin's home. The man's face was weathered and lined with age, but his eyes were sharp, reflecting a knowledge that far surpassed Dairin's understanding. Munir was one of the few who had lived long enough to remember a time when the Earth Lionturtle would grant its power not just for survival, but for learning.

"You've felt it, haven't you?" Munir asked Dairin quietly as they sat by the hearth that evening. "The earth speaks to you."

Dairin's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"The earth has many voices," Munir said, "and not all can hear them. When I was young, I, too, felt the tremors, the pulse of the earth beneath my feet. But I was not chosen. The Earth Lionturtle grants its gifts sparingly, but I believe the time is coming again when those who listen will be called."

Dairin looked to his father, who sat silently by the fire, his hands resting on his knees. Ojin met his son's gaze and nodded. "Munir is right. The earth has chosen you, Dairin. You must be ready to answer."

The weight of his father's words hung heavy in the air. Dairin had always dreamed of bending, of shaping the world as he saw fit, but now that the call seemed real, fear crept into his heart. What if he wasn't ready? What if the power consumed him?

"I'm not sure I'm the one," Dairin said, his voice small. "I don't even know what the earth wants from me."

Munir smiled faintly, his eyes softening. "The earth does not demand mastery, only understanding. You must go to the mountains, Dairin. There, the earth's voice will be clearest. The Earth Lionturtle has sensed something stirring deep within the land—something ancient."

Ojin stood, placing a hand on Dairin's shoulder. "I will go with you, son. Together, we'll find the truth."

And so, the next morning, Dairin and Ojin set out for the mountains, leaving the safety of Zhaolu behind. For the first time, Dairin felt the weight of earthbending within him—not the power to shape the land, but the responsibility to protect it.

As they climbed higher into the mountains, the earth's pulse grew stronger. Dairin could feel it deep in his bones now, a steady rhythm that guided his steps. The air grew thin and cold, and the stone beneath their feet became more jagged, less forgiving. But Dairin pressed on, driven by the call that now thrummed through his entire being.

By the third day, they reached the ancient caverns near the Earth Lionturtle's city, a place where the village elders claimed the boundary between the spirit world and the mortal realm was thin. As they entered the caverns, the ground beneath Dairin's feet trembled again, and this time, the tremor did not stop.

The earth was calling him deeper.