Part I: His Eyes Opened
The door creaked as Oz stepped into the room, boots quiet against the old floorboards. The sun hung low behind him, casting long shadows along the walls. His eyes landed on the boy in the bed — Ozais, his son — still as stone.
Uriyah stood beside their mother, clutching the folds of her long skirt.
Esther — firm-jawed, eyes sleepless — hadn't moved from Ozais's bedside since the attack.
Oz's voice broke the silence, low and steady.
Oz: "Has the boy's condition improved?"
Esther didn't speak. She only stared at Ozais's body, her expression drawn and heavy. Her silence said everything.
Then—
A twitch.
Ozais's fingers moved.
Esther dropped the cloth from her hands. Oz's arms folded tighter. Zaire, slumped in the corner, sat up straight.
Ozais stirred — slowly, like waking from the bottom of a cold, deep river.
His eyes blinked open.
He scanned the room, disoriented. Blurred shapes. Dull silence. Breath catching.
Then—
Uriyah broke the stillness, rushing to his side and throwing her arms around him before anyone could stop her.
Uriyah: "Ozzy!"
Ozais winced, ribs aching, but managed a dim, tired smile.
Ozais: "I'm fine… really. Just—loosen your grip a little."
Uriyah giggled through tears and buried her face in his shoulder.
Zaire stepped closer, unsure.
Zaire: "Ozais…"
The room fell quiet again, but something in it had changed.
Part II: The Power He Saw
Ozais's mind drifted backward — to the chaos before the collapse.
The memory struck sharper than the pain in his ribs.
He saw Zaire move through the forest — a streak of black and white energy, tearing through the masked Flow-users like paper. Each movement was brutal. Wild. Unrestrained.
That power… what was it?
Where did it come from?
That felt stronger than me…
Ozais clenched his jaw.
He closed his eyes and reached inward, instinctively searching for that quiet warmth — the familiar rhythm just beneath his ribs, the steady pulse he'd trained with since childhood.
Nothing.
Only silence.
His heart sank.
No. No, it can't be…
It's impossible.
My Flow… is gone.
Part III: What He Heard
Lying there in silence, frozen in his body but fully awake within it — Ozais had heard everything.
The Council's voices. Their tone. Their careful words.
His father's answers.
The Flow Council…?
He remembered the name — once spoken in vague fragments, warnings, stories told after dark when Father thought they were asleep.
But the way the Council spoke to Oz…
They knew him.
Not as a stranger. As one of their own.
Why?
A knot formed in Ozais's chest.
What connection does Father have to the Council?
And why has he hidden it from us?
And then there was that man.
He hadn't opened his eyes — not physically — but he still felt him. His aura had been so strong it left an imprint.
Whoever he was… he wasn't like the others.
He didn't watch Zaire. He studied him.
And the power I sensed from him… it wasn't like the Council's. It wasn't even like Father's.
But it was close.
Who was that man… and why does it feel like I've met him before?
Part IV: The Silence Between Brothers
Zaire lingered by the foot of the bed, hands balled into fists.
He wanted to speak. He wanted to cry.
But he barely managed a whisper—
Zaire: "That power… was that really my Flow?"
Ozais: "Was it?"
Zaire looked down.
Zaire: "…I don't know. I can't really remember anything after I saw Uriyah get hurt. When I came to, you were already down."
A pause.
Zaire (softly): "I—I'm sorry, brother."
The silence stretched.
Ozais sat up, then stood slowly. Each movement was controlled. Measured.
He walked toward the door.
Just as he reached it, he paused — his back to his brother.
His voice was quiet, but cold.
Ozais: "My Flow…"
He turned, just enough for Zaire to see his face.
Ozais: "…you broke it."
Zaire didn't move.
Didn't breathe.
He just stood there — silent — as Ozais walked away.
(Transition Scene — Chokmah's Observation)
As Ozais stepped out and the last rays of sun dipped behind the hills, far beyond the edge of the village — where the river curled like a sleeping serpent — someone else felt the shift.
Not with eyes. But through the current.
Through the silence that followed broken Flow.
Chokmah was watching.
She always did — not through windows or walls, but through water.
And today, the river showed her a boy — broken, walking away from his brother.
Part V: The Voice Beneath the River
Down by the river's edge, beneath a crooked tree heavy with moss, Chokmah sat on a worn reed mat, humming to herself and drawing spirals in the dirt.
The river had shown her the moment: a boy torn by loss. A younger brother still cloaked in awakening.
The scene still shimmered faintly across the water's surface — like a reflection not from this world, but another.
Children passed on the trail above, whispering:
"That's the river witch."
"She talks to ghosts."
"Mama said she used to be wise once…"
None dared approach.
Chokmah did not flinch.
She wasn't talking to ghosts.
She was listening to the river.
And the river no longer sang.
It trembled.
She dipped her fingers into the flow, and the water twitched like it recognized her.
"Mm," she whispered. "It has begun."
From beneath her shawl, she withdrew a black stone etched with spirals — a mark older than the Council's law. Pressing it to her forehead, she murmured low:
"Zora… you were never lost. Just hidden.
But the river remembers."
Beneath the surface, a shadow passed — watching. Waiting.
She hummed low, like wind before thunder.
"The boy's soul cracked before its time.
And Rahab saw."
Her eyes opened — not old, but ancient.
"He carries it now. The wound. The key.
The echo."
🌊 CHAPTER 4: WHAT THE RIVER BURIED (Coming Soon)
Ozais begins training in secret, desperate to reignite his Flow
Zaire returns to the river — and Rahab shows him something he wasn't meant to see
Chokmah prepares to reveal her hidden past with Zora
And in the dead of night… the Echo Flow whispers again
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Flow of the Divine River™ is an original work by the author.
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