Act I Scene III - For Signs and Seasons
At the peak of the world a young man clung to the icy stones, his hands and feet gripping their holds with all his might. The wind howled, threatening to throw him from his perch and send him tumbling to his death. The chill of the night threatened to freeze his blood, to stop his heart in his chest and curse him to oblivion.
He pressed on.
And God said "Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens to separate the day from the night;"
At first he had counted his steps. Now, his only thought was on making another. Handhold. Foothold. Handhold. Handhold. Switch. Foothold. Handhold. He could no longer see the peak above him. The clouds hung low around this place, their humid embrace eating at his strength. Water like this was precious to his people. It nourished the villages. They sang to clouds like these, tugging them down from mountaintops to release their life-giving water on the land. Now it was his enemy.
"And let them be lights in the firmament of the heavens to give light upon the earth."
Thunder crashed from somewhere distant, and a tempest swelled, pushing a hail of icy darts towards the mountainside. They cut through his thick woolen coat as surely as any knife, scratching him across his back, and over his arms. But he would not yield. The only thing in his sight was the pinnacle. He would not rest until he reached it. The stars called to him.
And it was so. And God made the two great lights, the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night; he made the stars also.
The clouds grew thin, and the skies opened up, and beyond the vault of the heavens lay the stars. Up and up and up, as far and as wide as he could see. In all directions, from Achyon to Garjling's Coat, from Osrona to the Eastern Sea. Far north to Theria, and all across the world. Stars. And he climbed. Hand over hand. Foot by foot. Grasping for each inch of height until he could feel the wedge of a small platform cut out above him. He heaved himself up into the hollow of the rock, where the ancient peak had split in two. One side falling, the other standing, leaving a cleft that made for a simple shelter from the wind.
And God set them in the firmament of the heavens to give light upon the earth, to rule over the day and over the night, and to separate the light from the darkness.
With waning strength he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He folded his stiff legs beneath him and knelt on the cool stone. Straightening his back, he looked up into the night sky and raised his hands to the heavens. The young man closed his eyes. This is what he prayed:
"Stars above who guide us... Angels who watch over us... I have given everything I have to come here. All I ask is that you awaken the strength I know I have. Show me what I must do to protect the ones I love. That is my greatest wish."
And then he waited for an answer.
He couldn't say how long it had been. Hours, maybe. Minutes. Seconds.
He could see the stars, and the shimmer of light on the horizon.
His body ached, but even now the pain ebbed into numbness.
He was alive, and he should not be.
Only Magi could withstand this strain for long.
Only Magi...
As he turned his face down away from the heavens he saw the aura, a faint gossamer of blue and white, emanating from his body. Mana. He thought to himself. It was the first time he had ever truly felt it. How long had it been with him? Perhaps it had come before he ever reached the peak. Perhaps it had emerged as he felt the starlight on his outstretched palms. He had no idea when it happened, but now... He finally had it. After all this time.
He stood, steadying himself against the wind on the rocks that sheltered him. Looking down at his wounds he could see a mist of blue-white that shimmered and wafted into the sky, flowing like blood from small veins of power cut just as surely as his flesh. It would drain from him if he did not go soon. Even if he was stronger now than he'd been without it, he was untrained. This gift had limits, and they were fast approaching.
If he lingered here, waiting to receive some destiny from on high, he would squander what he had just been given. This faint shimmer was the only sign he needed. Proof enough that he could choose his own path, and one good chance to take it.
If he hurried, he could reach Garjling's Coat before he succumbed to exhaustion. The young man smiled. For now, there was no more room for fear. All he could see was the path ahead. The sun was rising in the East, and a new day was dawning.
It was time to go home.