Chain of Destiny: Fears of Light - Through the Eyes of Amaterasu
The morning air bit sharply against Samantha Marie’s skin, the kind of cold that made you tuck your chin deeper into your jacket collar. A thin fog clung to the cracked sidewalks like it refused to let go, curling around her ankles while she waited for the school bus. Earbuds in, music low, she tried to drown out the silence that was never really silent.
At sixteen, Samantha was already tired but also tired of things she couldn’t quite name. Not homework, not even the sleepless nights. This was a more profound exhaustion, the kind that lived in your bones. The weight of waiting for something you couldn’t explain, the heaviness of knowing something was coming—something no one else seemed to feel.
Her dark braids, pulled into a loose bun beneath her hood, slipped free to frame her brown skin and thoughtful eyes. When the bus groaned to a stop, she boarded without a word, sliding into her usual seat halfway back. She pressed her head against the window, watching the city drift past in fragments: neon signs sputtering outside corner stores, stray dogs darting through traffic, kids in uniforms hustling toward another day of noise and monotony.
School. Just the thought soured her stomach.
A vibration against her thigh pulled her from her haze. She thumbed her phone awake.
Cassandra: Girl, did you do that World History assignment?
Samantha: Yeah, finished it late last night.
Cassandra: Thank God. I’m gonna peek over your shoulder.
Samantha: Don’t get me caught.
Samantha almost smiled—almost. A soundless giggle at the back of her throat, but her lips stayed still. The unease in her chest hadn’t gone away. If anything, it had sharpened, coiled tighter.
Halfway down the bus, two boys leaned close, voices low but urgent.
“You hear what went down on the news? About those two students?”
Samantha’s ears pricked.
“Yeah,” the other whispered. “Not just a fight. They said some guy tried to kidnap one of them.”
Another voice joined in, trembling. “And the scene—like an explosion had gone off. Whole block torn apart.”
The words sank into her like ice water. A shiver crawled her spine, too deliberate to be simple fear. It wasn’t just news. It was a warning. A sign.
The bus jolted to a stop at Maxwell High, snapping her back. She stepped down into the courtyard, the morning sun spilling golden across the pavement. For a fleeting second, the warmth wasn’t comforting. It burned. Too hot for autumn, searing against her skin like fire pressed from the inside out. She staggered but forced her steps forward.
Inside, the halls erupted with chatter, lockers slamming like drumbeats, posters for homecoming crowding the walls. The noise washed over her but didn’t reach her, like she was listening from underwater.
“Samantha Marie!”
Raya bounded toward her, curls bouncing, sweater bright under the fluorescent lights. She grinned but slowed as soon as she caught Samantha’s expression. “Girl, what’s with you? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Samantha forced a half-smile, though it felt like lifting stone. “Just… weird morning.”
“Mm-hm.” Raya’s eyes narrowed, unconvinced, but she didn’t press. She hooked her arm through Samantha’s and dragged her toward first period.
Still, the feeling lingered. Not just that she was being watched. It was heavier, higher—like the gaze came not from behind, but from above. Like the very sun itself had eyes. And they were locked on her.
At lunch, Samantha sat beneath the old magnolia tree in the courtyard, unwrapping her sandwich but barely eating. Her gaze drifted upward, through the branches where sunlight filtered in shifting patches of gold.
The light flickered.
And in that flicker, she saw her.
A woman made of fire and silk, standing in a sea of stars. Her skin shimmered like molten gold, her robes flowing like the birth of dawn. Eyes two burning suns stared straight through her, piercing time, memory, destiny.
Samantha gasped. The vision seared into her mind, then vanished as quickly as it had come. Students’ laughter rushed back, cafeteria doors clattering, footsteps across concrete. Ordinary life resumed around her. But she sat frozen.
Because she knew.
This wasn’t a daydream. This wasn’t a coincidence.
Somewhere, others were being called—pulled into the same chain, bound to the same fire. And though she couldn’t yet understand it, she felt the weight of it pressing down.
The chain had begun to turn.
