March of 1850, when the skies became as black as coal, though the sun did not dim. A figure descended from the heavens, they’d presence filled with unimaginable power. Panic and confusion spread across the world as the figure revealed their purpose: he bestowed upon humanity “Miracles.”
Miracles are born from concepts—manifestations of an individual's deepest emotions, beliefs, and experiences. They do not follow rigid elemental structures but instead reflect the very essence of their wielder. A Miracle can embody something as tangible as "Steel" or as abstract as "Remorse," its power and form shifting based on the user's connection to the idea it represents. The stronger the belief, the more profound the ability. Nobody knew his identity, but people would eventually call him only “the Messenger.” They were nothing, yet had changed the world forever.
As time passed on, the world changed. The Miracles became native to the human lifestyle, part of a person’s emotions and psychology. Whenever a person felt strong emotions love, anger, despair-their abilities would spring to life, influencing the feeling attached to it. This concept was better known as Emotional Resonance. The uniqueness of a person’s Miracle showcased their deepest struggles, desires, and experiences.
One of the visual markers of a Miracle awakening was that one’s eyes would glow in radiant light whenever their abilities surged. The light colored itself according to whatever feeling was feeding into their power, from blue for sorrow to gold for love to red for rage, thereby creating this stark linkage between one’s soul and the powers.
Centuries passed as Mircales grew more. Sometimes, a child would inherit one power from each of their parents: a combination of fire and water to form steam, wind, and earth to give birth to dust storms. Many other times, however, children would have new powers shaped by their own emotions.
By 2025, the world had moved on, yet some things remained as mysterious as ever. Ravenswood—a town buried in foggy superstition—had become a breeding ground for strange rumors. Vanishing people, eerie lights in the sky, things moving where they shouldn’t be. The kind of stories that made people turn on extra lamps at night.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Najma Kamaria had no business coming back here. And yet, here she was.
Somewhere in the background, the train hummed along its tracks, the faintest rattle of metal lulling her in and out of a dazed sleep. She propped her head against the window, the cold glass pressing into her temple. Her seat was stiff, and the air smelled like a mix of coffee and fabric softener.
Then, an announcement crackled through the speakers.
“Next stop, Ravenswood Station. Please gather your belongings and prepare to exit the train. We will be arriving shortly.”
Najma stirred, a quiet groan escaping as she sluggishly sat up. Her body felt like it had melted into the seat. With a lazy rub at her eyes, she blinked blearily at the distorted colors outside—the sky a strange purple.
“You good?”
A voice. She turned toward the seat across from her. An older woman sat there, newspaper folded in her lap, watching her with mild amusement.
“You were out cold the entire ride,” the woman continued, tapping a finger on the newspaper. “Looked like you were dreaming.”
Najma worked her jaw before answering, her voice still heavy with sleep. “...Maybe. I don’t remember.”
And that was the truth. It wasn’t like she had woken from some vivid nightmare. It was more like… nothing. A void of silence, then waking up to that weird sky.
The train jolted slightly as it slowed. The announcement repeated:
“Now arriving at Ravenswood Station. Please watch your step as you exit the train. Thank you for riding with us.”
Najma exhaled, running a hand through her curls. Right. She was here now. Ravenswood.
Grabbing her bag, she tucked her journal under her arm. She wasn’t here for anything dramatic. It was just a visit. A train ride, a brief stay—then she’d be gone again. That was all.
But the moment she stepped off the train, something in the air shifted. It wasn’t just colder than she remembered. It felt thicker like the town itself had woken up to her presence.
The sky stretched low, its eerie tint casting deep shadows along the platform. In the distance, the mountains loomed, bathed in that same unnatural blue haze. The longer she stared, the more the back of her neck itched.
Something was waiting for her here.
And whether she had come searching for it—or it had been waiting for her all along—remained to be seen.