Episode2 — The Calamity
POV: Jidenna Valeris
The morning after the wind chose me, the world didn't look any different — but it felt different, like something beneath the surface was humming to itself and waiting to be heard. Birds still sang, students still gossiped in hallways, and teachers still gave assignments like destiny could be measured in grades. Yet, the air around me had weight now — like invisible threads connecting me to things I didn't understand.
Marcus noticed it first.
"Bro, you look like you've been touched by lightning," he said, squinting at me as we sat on the east field before morning drills. "And not in a cool superhero way — like… emotionally electrocuted."
Anderson chuckled. "He's been staring into nothing all morning. I think it's that girl again."
"Lily," Marcus said, dragging the name like a rumor. "The wind whisperer."
I threw a blade of grass at him, but my heart wasn't in the denial. Because they were right — she was in my head, in the way the world moved now. And maybe that should've scared me more than it did.
By noon, the clouds began to form again — dark, unnatural, thick with the taste of iron. Teachers started sending students inside, but something about that sky called to me. Lily stood on the balcony of the east tower, her hair whipped by a wind that didn't belong to this season.
And then it happened.
The Calamity.
It began with a sound — deep, like the groan of mountains shifting under oceans. The ground trembled, lockers rattled, glass windows cracked like frightened eyes. A spiral of air formed above the courtyard, violent and fast. Books flew, trees bent, and students screamed, running for the nearest building. But in the center of it, Lily stood perfectly still — arms spread, eyes open, her body glowing with faint silver light.
"Lily!" I shouted, but the wind swallowed my voice.
And then my mark — the faint sigil on my wrist — burned alive.
Pain seared through me like molten gold. My body stiffened, and light burst from my palms, pure and radiant. Marcus screamed something, Anderson tried to pull me back, but the force around me lifted my feet off the ground. It wasn't a choice. It was a pull — ancient, familiar, demanding.
The spiral's core opened like an eye. I saw shapes inside it — silhouettes of winged beings, fragments of light and air, their voices like overlapping songs. One of them spoke directly to me:
"The elements remember their heirs. Do not resist."
Before I could even breathe, Lily screamed. The light around her shattered, and the wind collapsed inward like a fist.
Everything went white.
---
When I woke, the courtyard was unrecognizable. Statues broken, trees uprooted, glass littering the ground like stars. The academy's emergency bells were still echoing, distant and panicked. My uniform was torn, my hands bleeding faintly from the light. Marcus crouched beside me, face pale.
"Bro… you were floating," he whispered. "And glowing. Like—like an angel having a breakdown."
I groaned, pushing myself up. "Lily… where is she?"
Anderson pointed toward the far side of the courtyard. The air shimmered there, and from within the haze, Lily emerged — her face pale, eyes dim. She looked drained, her steps slow. The teachers who found her looked terrified, like they'd just seen a legend move.
Principal Aramond, the tall man with eyes like old ice, arrived last. "Everyone inside. Now." His voice left no room for refusal.
But as they escorted us in, his gaze lingered on me — long, thoughtful, almost afraid.
---
Later, in the infirmary, my mother arrived.
Celeste Valeris rarely showed emotion, but that evening, her calm cracked around the edges. She brushed the hair from my forehead like I was still her little boy. "You should not have interfered," she murmured. "The pact is not yours to awaken."
I frowned weakly. "Pact? You know about this?"
She hesitated — too long. My father's voice came from the doorway, sharp and deliberate. "Everyone in this family knows. You just didn't need to yet."
My pulse spiked. "You both knew something like this could happen?"
Donovan stepped closer, his presence filling the sterile room. "The Valeris line is bound to the Light. We've kept it dormant for generations. What happened today means someone—something—broke the balance."
"Lily," I whispered.
My father's jaw tightened. "The Aravelles always meddled with air. And now it seems they've woken things best left buried."
I wanted to protest, but part of me already knew it was true — Lily's power called mine like storm to flame. Whatever we had stumbled into, it wasn't coincidence. It was heritage… maybe even prophecy.
---
That night, I dreamed again — but this time, I wasn't alone. Lily stood beside me in a vast field of light, wind spinning around her like ribbons.
"They'll blame me," she said softly. "They already have. But it wasn't me, Jidenna. The wind only obeyed what the Light answered."
"Then what was that thing in the sky?"
She shook her head, hair catching phantom starlight. "Something older than our families. The Calamity wasn't an accident — it was a memory waking up."
"Of what?"
"Of the last war between the elements."
Her words echoed like thunder. I wanted to reach for her, to hold her there, but the dream dissolved, leaving only the smell of rain and the faint ache of light under my skin.
---
When morning came, Astral Academy was closed for investigation. Reporters swarmed the gates. The news called it an atmospheric anomaly. Some students whispered about magic. Others said a gas leak. But Marcus, Anderson, and I knew better.
"Bro," Marcus said quietly as we watched the news on my tablet. "You realize this isn't random, right? That mark on your wrist — it's reacting to her."
Anderson leaned forward, voice low. "There's more. My dad says the Board's digging into old family records. Something about an 'Elemental Pact' signed a century ago between four houses: Valeris, Aravelle, Dawnspear, and Averily."
The name hit me like a pulse — Averily. I'd heard it before. Our city's border carried that name, the Averily Borderline — a quiet district where the river bent sharply, always misty, always avoided. It was said that long ago, the four families swore to guard the balance of elements: Light, Air, Earth, and Shadow.
And now, something was breaking that promise.
As evening fell, I stood by my window, the wind tapping gently against the glass. I opened it, and a small spiral of air drifted in — carrying a single feather, silver-white. I caught it, and it glowed faintly in my palm before fading.
Her whisper followed — faint, carried by the breeze:
"Don't be afraid of what's waking, Jidenna. Be afraid of what's remembering."
The feather dissolved into light. My mark pulsed once, then settled.
And I knew — The Calamity wasn't the end of something.
It was the beginning of everything.
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