New God(wheel of time)

Chapter 15: The Weight of the World The morning sun had barely touched the horizon, casting a pale orange glow over the village. The air was crisp, the early hours quiet, but Mic couldn't escape the tension that still lingered in his mind. The encounter with the strange travelers had left him unsettled. He could still feel their eyes on him, even now.

Moraine had left early to speak with the village elders, but Mic found himself alone, once again pondering the strange voice inside his mind. Child of creation, it had said. It felt like a part of him, yet it was so distant, like an ancient memory just out of reach.

He stood outside the inn, staring at the horizon, the weight of his uncertainty pressing down on him. How long could he hide from the truth? From whatever he was meant to become?

You are not what you think you are, the voice whispered in his mind once more. You are power incarnate, but you have yet to understand the depth of it. You will soon, child. Soon.

Mic shook his head, trying to push the voice aside. He had more pressing matters to worry about—matters that seemed more tangible. Like the strangers who had sought him out the night before.

He hadn't wanted to admit it to Moraine, but he was scared. They had wanted something from him, something he didn't understand. They hadn't seemed like the typical threat. They had been calm, even calculating. And the energy that had radiated from them was unlike anything he had felt before.

As he walked through the village, the inhabitants went about their daily routines, casting curious glances at him but keeping their distance. The villagers had learned quickly not to ask too many questions about him. He had become something of a mystery, a figure shrouded in uncertainty.

But the village was not his concern, not anymore. The travelers, the ones who had spoken of him with such cold interest, were the ones he needed to focus on. He needed answers.

His footsteps faltered when he saw Moraine approaching from a distance. Her face was set in its usual calm expression, but there was an edge to her step, something that spoke of urgency.

"Mic," she called when she noticed him. "I need to speak with you."

He straightened, concern flickering in his chest. "What is it?"

Moraine stepped closer, her voice low. "Those travelers we encountered last night—I've been able to learn more about them. They are not of this world, or at least not from this time. They are part of a group that seeks the power you hold. They believe you are the key to something much larger than we understand. And they will stop at nothing to claim that power."

Mic's heart raced at her words, but something in him—the same force that had surged through him last night—stirred within him once more. "What exactly do they want with me?"

"I don't know," Moraine replied, her brow furrowing. "But I believe they are not the only ones seeking you. I have heard whispers of others. Darker forces, ones that even I fear."

"Others?" Mic echoed, feeling the weight of her words settle like a stone in his chest. "How many more are out there?"

Moraine's gaze softened slightly. "I don't know. But I am certain that whatever happens next, it will change everything."

Mic stood in silence, taking in the gravity of her words. There were forces at play here, forces far beyond anything he had ever imagined. And for some reason, he was at the center of it all.

The air felt heavy, as though the world itself were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

"You are not alone in this," Moraine said, breaking the silence. "I will help you. We will uncover what this power is and how to control it."

Mic nodded, a small sense of comfort settling in his chest. He hadn't known what he was or what he was capable of, but for the first time, he felt like maybe he wasn't completely alone in this.

They began walking toward the edge of the village, where the landscape stretched out before them in a wide, open expanse. It was there, at the outskirts, that Moraine stopped and turned to face him.

"I know you are struggling with your own power," she said, her eyes intense. "But you must understand—this power, it is not just a gift. It is a responsibility. And there are those who would use it for far darker purposes than we can imagine."

Mic met her gaze, his expression serious. "I don't want to hurt anyone. But I need to understand what I am... what I can do."

"You will," Moraine said, her voice firm. "And you will have help along the way."

Before he could respond, a distant sound reached their ears—something faint at first, but growing louder. The sound of horses' hooves.

Moraine's hand instinctively moved to the dagger at her side, her eyes narrowing. "Stay close," she said. "We may not be alone after all."

Mic stepped beside her, his senses alert as the sound of hooves grew louder, approaching at an alarming speed.

Soon, they saw them—a group of riders, cloaked in the darkness of the early morning. There were five of them, their horses moving swiftly as they made their way toward the village.

As they drew closer, Mic could feel something shift in the air. An unnatural tension seemed to wrap itself around them, the temperature dropping by several degrees.

Moraine did not move, but Mic could sense the edge of her wariness. These were not ordinary travelers.

The leader of the group—a tall woman with piercing green eyes—spoke first, her voice carrying over the distance. "I seek the one called Mic," she called, her tone firm but not unfriendly.

Moraine's eyes flicked to Mic, her gaze filled with suspicion. "What is this about?" she asked, her voice steady.

"We seek your... companion," the woman replied, her voice heavy with an unknown urgency. "The one with the power of creation. We have come to speak with him."

Mic felt a pulse of recognition at her words. The one with the power of creation. He didn't know how he knew, but something about that phrase struck a chord deep within him.

Without thinking, he stepped forward. "What do you want with me?" he asked, his voice carrying an edge of authority that surprised even him.

The woman seemed to pause for a moment, her eyes scanning him carefully. There was a tension in the air that Mic couldn't ignore. Whatever these riders wanted, it was not something simple.

"We wish to offer you a choice," the woman said, her tone measured. "Join us, and you will have answers. Refuse, and we will be forced to take action."

Mic's heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the energy building inside him again, a force that was far too powerful to ignore.

He glanced at Moraine, her eyes searching his face, and then he made his decision.

"I won't join anyone until I know the truth," he said, his voice calm but unwavering. "And I won't be intimidated into making a decision."

The woman's gaze hardened, and the tension in the air thickened. Whatever was about to happen, Mic could feel it deep in his bones: his journey had just taken a much darker turn.