Riftborn

As Noel closed his eyes, the world around him slowed. The ground beneath him felt as if it were trembling, though the air was still. He exhaled deeply, his breath misting in the Rift's strange, violet glow.

The ground beneath him cracked with a sharp snap, a web of fissures spreading outward. The Rift pulsed, and in that instant, everything around him turned black.

Twelve years ago

The small fishing village of Darnith was silent, save for the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. Noel was just a boy then, maybe eight years old. His father was the village's lighthouse keeper, a stern man of few words, and his mother spent her days tending to the garden that fed the family. Life was simple, predictable. Peaceful.

But the Rift had other plans.

It was a calm summer evening when the first tear opened in the skies above Darnith. Noel had been chasing fireflies near the cliffs, laughing as the golden lights danced around him. Then, the air shifted. A deep, guttural hum filled the space around him, vibrating in his chest. The fireflies scattered as the hum grew louder.

When he looked up, the first Rift split open.

It wasn't large, not like the colossal fractures that would later plague the world. It was no bigger than the lighthouse itself, but it was enough to forever change the world.

From that tear, a creature emerged—shaped like a man, but wrong. Its limbs were too long, its eyes burned like molten gold, and its presence radiated an unnatural hunger.

Noel froze, rooted to the spot as fear gripped him. The creature didn't attack; it simply watched him. But in its gaze, Noel felt something indescribable—a searing wave of emotions that weren't his own.

Horror. Sorrow. Joy. Rage. It overwhelmed him, twisting his senses, and for a moment, he thought he would be consumed by it.

Then, his father appeared, a shotgun in hand.

"Run!" his father bellowed, firing a shot into the creature's chest. The beast didn't flinch. Instead, it turned its gaze to the man, and with a swipe of its elongated arm, sent him hurtling into the rocks below.

Noel didn't remember running, only that his legs carried him home. His mother pulled him into the cellar, locking the door as screams filled the village above. They stayed there until the morning, when silence finally fell.

When they emerged, the village was gone. The Rift had vanished, and with it, everything Noel had known.

His father's body was never found. His mother, frail and hollow-eyed, refused to speak of that night again. They moved inland, far from the coast, but the damage had been done. Noel grew up in silence, the memories of that night haunting his dreams.

Noel's eyes snapped open. The Rift pulsed in front of him, its light casting long shadows across the ruined landscape. He wasn't in the village anymore. He wasn't anywhere recognizable.

The air was heavy, electric, and the ground beneath him glowed faintly with shifting patterns, as if it were alive. The hum he'd heard as a child was back, louder now, almost deafening.

Before him stood a figure, cloaked in shadow, its features obscured. It wasn't like the creature from his childhood—it felt different. Familiar, even.

"Noel," the figure said, its voice echoing like a chorus of whispers. "You've reached the final stage. The Rift knows you."

Noel staggered back, his breath catching. "What... what are you talking about?"

The figure didn't answer. Instead, it raised a hand, and the patterns on the ground shifted violently. Images flashed before Noel's eyes—his father's face, his mother's tears, the creature from the Rift.

And then, something new. A memory he didn't recognize.

He stood in a different world, surrounded by towering structures and skies filled with light. He was older, his hands glowing with energy. Around him, people knelt, chanting his name.

"Noel... Noel... Noel..."

The vision faded as quickly as it had come, leaving him breathless. The figure lowered its hand.

"You don't remember," it said, almost sorrowfully. "But you will. The Rift never forgets."

Before Noel could respond, the figure dissolved into mist, and the ground beneath him shattered. He fell, tumbling into the void as the world around him fragmented into chaos.

The battlefield still crackled with the aftershocks of Noel's attack. The hulking beast that had charged at him moments before now lay sprawled across the ground, its crystalline limbs shattered and its glowing eyes dimmed. Steam rose from the charred remains, the aftermath of a power Noel had no memory of summoning.

The silence was deafening.

"Riftborn," the silver-haired woman repeated, her voice steady but layered with disbelief. Her green eyes locked onto Noel as if he were some rare artifact unearthed after centuries.

Noel's heart raced. "What does that even mean? Riftborn? I don't understand any of this!"

"Don't move!" one of the other warriors shouted, his spear still pointed at Noel. His face was streaked with grime, and his fear was palpable. "What if he's lying? He could be one of them!"

"Shut it, Gavin," the woman barked, silencing him with a glare. She turned her attention back to Noel. "Look, we don't have time for a history lesson. If you really don't know what you just did, then we've got bigger problems. But right now, we need to move before more of those things show up."

"What were those things?" Noel asked, glancing at the beast's smoldering remains.

"Hunters," she replied, her voice low. "Creatures born from the Rift. They're not supposed to be here, not this close to the city."

"City?" Noel's gaze darted to the ruins surrounding them. "You call this a city? It's... it's all destroyed."

"Yeah, thanks to the Rift," she said bitterly. "But that's a story for later. We need to get out of here." She gestured to the others. "Form up! Gavin, take point. Lydia, cover our flank."

The group began to move, their weapons still drawn. Noel hesitated, unsure whether to follow.

The woman glanced over her shoulder. "Are you coming or not? If you want answers, stick with us. Otherwise, you'll be dead by sundown."

Noel clenched his fists. He didn't trust her—or anyone here—but she was right. He needed answers, and he wouldn't find them alone. With a reluctant nod, he followed.

As they made their way through the crumbling city, the atmosphere grew heavier. The air buzzed faintly with an unnatural energy, and shadows seemed to move just out of sight.

Noel walked close to the woman, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What's your name?" he asked.

She glanced at him briefly before answering. "Rhea."

"Rhea," he repeated. "You said something about Riftborn earlier. What does that mean?"

She sighed. "It's not a term we use lightly. Riftborn are... anomalies. People touched by the Rift in ways we don't fully understand. Some call it a curse, others a blessing. But one thing's for sure—it changes you."

"Changes you how?"

"That," she said, shooting him a sharp look, "depends on the person."

Noel frowned. "So, you think I'm Riftborn because of what I did back there?"

"Not just that," Rhea said. "The Rift doesn't leave marks on people unless they're special. And you..." She trailed off, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she shook her head. "We'll figure it out once we're safe."

Noel wanted to press further, but a sudden noise stopped him in his tracks.

From the shadows ahead, a low growl echoed. The group froze.

"Another Hunter?" Lydia whispered, gripping her bow tightly.

"No," Rhea said, her eyes narrowing. "This one's different."

The growl grew louder, and from the darkness emerged a figure—tall, humanoid, and cloaked in tattered robes that seemed to shimmer like liquid shadow. Its face was obscured, but its glowing blue eyes burned with an unnatural intensity.

"Great," Gavin muttered. "A Warden."

Noel's stomach dropped. "A Warden? What's that?"

"A higher-tier Rift creature," Rhea said grimly. "Stronger, smarter, and a hell of a lot harder to kill."

The Warden stepped forward, its gaze locked on Noel.

"You," it said, its voice like a chorus of whispers. "You do not belong here."

Noel's blood ran cold.

The creature raised its hand, and the air around it began to ripple. Energy crackled as a sphere of violet light formed in its palm, pulsating with a menacing glow.

"Scatter!" Rhea shouted, shoving Noel aside as the Warden unleashed the attack.

The sphere exploded, sending a shockwave through the street. Noel hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him. He looked up just in time to see Rhea and the others engaging the Warden, their weapons clashing against its shadowy form.

"Noel!" Rhea shouted, her voice strained. "We can't hold it off forever! You need to do something!"

Panic surged through him. "Do what? I don't even know how I used that power before!"

"Figure it out!" she yelled, narrowly dodging a strike from the Warden.

Noel's hands trembled as he watched the battle unfold. The others were outmatched—the Warden was too fast, too strong. They wouldn't last long.

Then, deep within him, he felt it.

A spark.

The same energy he had unleashed earlier stirred in his chest, faint but unmistakable. It was as if the Rift itself was calling to him, urging him to act.

Noel closed his eyes, focusing on the spark. He didn't know what he was doing, but he had no choice.

The energy swelled, spreading through his body like fire. When he opened his eyes, they glowed with the same violet hue as the Rift.

"Hey!" he shouted, his voice carrying a power he didn't recognize. The Warden turned, its gaze narrowing.

Noel raised his hand, and the air around him crackled with energy. For a moment, he felt in control—until the power surged uncontrollably, erupting in a burst of light that consumed the street.

When the light faded, the Warden was gone, and the street was reduced to rubble. Rhea and the others stared at Noel, their expressions a mix of awe and fear.

"What... what did you just do?" Rhea asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Noel's knees buckled, and he fell to the ground, gasping for air. "I... I don't know."

But deep down, he knew one thing for sure: whatever this power was, it wasn't entirely his. And it scared him.