The first of these partial awakenings was not far from Tafersit—a village called Azlaf, perhaps two hours' walk through the mountain paths. Reports had reached Abchiti's father of a young man there who had developed an unusual ability: he could call animals to do his bidding, controlling creatures from mountain goats to the predators that hunted them.
"At first, the village thought it was a blessing," Abchiti's father explained. "The boy helped with herds, kept wolves away from livestock. But then he began to demand payment for his services, and when people refused... there were accidents. Animals turned against their owners. Livestock driven off cliffs. The boy claims he cannot control what happens, but the villagers say otherwise."
Abchiti set out for Azlaf the next morning, wearing the pendant openly now. He had learned that it could serve as a symbol, a mark of authority that those with partial awakenings would instinctively recognize. The mountain paths that had once seemed long and difficult now felt like extensions of his own body, each step bringing him deeper into connection with the land he traversed.
The village of Azlaf was smaller than Tafersit, a cluster of stone buildings clinging to a slope that seemed too steep for habitation. As Abchiti approached, he could feel the unease that permeated the settlement—fear and resentment layered over generations of ordinary life, disrupting the natural harmony of the place.
He found the young man—his name was Dris—at the edge of the village, surrounded by animals that should have been natural enemies: goats standing calmly beside foxes, birds perched fearlessly near cats. Dris himself was perhaps nineteen, thin and sharp-featured, with eyes that darted nervously between his menagerie and the approaching stranger.
"Who are you?" Dris demanded, and Abchiti could feel the power that emanated from him—a thin, reedy thread compared to the vast currents that flowed through the Keeper, but power nonetheless.
"I am Abchiti of Tafersit," he replied, keeping his voice calm. "I have come because I felt your awakening. The power you carry is not meant to be used this way."
"Not meant?" Dris laughed, but there was fear beneath the bravado. "Who are you to tell me what is meant? The animals obey me. The village respects me. I have finally become something more than a poor farmer's forgotten son."
"You have become a tyrant," Abchiti said quietly. "The power you carry is a trust, not a weapon. The covenant between humans and the land requires balance, not dominance."
Dris's face twisted with anger, and the animals around him stirred, growling and hissing in response to his emotional state. "You sound like the elders. Like everyone who ever told me to be content with nothing. I will not go back to being nothing."
"The choice is yours," Abchiti said, and he meant it. He could feel the potential in Dris, the possibility of growth and understanding. But he could also feel the corruption that had taken root—the use of power for selfish ends that, if left unchecked, would warp the young man into something monstrous. "But if you continue on this path, you will lose everything. The power will consume you from within, and the animals you command will turn on you."
"Get out," Dris snarled. "Leave my village. Or I will show you what my power can do."
Abchiti left, but he did not go far. He found a sheltered spot at the edge of Azlaf and settled in to wait. The confrontation was not over; it had merely entered a new phase. And somewhere in the east, beyond the ranges that he could see from his vantage point, something vast and dark continued its slow awakening, pressing against barriers that were weakening with each passing day.