The forest whispered with the wind, its deep shadows stretching far beyond the edges of the village. Kael had always felt a pull toward the woods—something he couldn't quite explain. His father had once told him, when he was young, that the forest held secrets older than the world itself. Secrets Kael was never meant to uncover.
"Dangerous out here," Kael muttered to himself as he brushed aside the thick branches, his boots sinking into the damp earth. The cold air bit at his skin, but he didn't mind. It was the solitude he craved—the kind of quiet that only the Dark Realm's outskirts could offer. No eyes watching, no whispers behind his back.
But today, something felt different. Something was calling him.
He had nearly forgotten why he came out here in the first place—he'd been too absorbed in the pull of something unseen. His heart quickened as he moved deeper, beyond the trees. And then, just as the last vestiges of the fading light danced on the horizon, he found it.
A stone, half-buried beneath layers of dried leaves and moss, glowed faintly under the dim twilight.
"What the—?" Kael crouched beside it, his breath catching in his throat. It was no ordinary stone. He had seen enough relics from the Dark Realm to know that this one was ancient—powerful, perhaps.
His fingers hesitated for a moment, but curiosity won. As soon as he touched it, a pulse of raw energy surged through him, sending a jolt of electricity up his arm. The world around him seemed to crackle. His vision blurred, and the air grew thick with something alive—something ancient.
He gasped, stumbling back as a fierce wind swept through the forest, whipping leaves into a frenzy. His heart raced, his blood pounding in his ears. And then the voice came—deep, reverberating, as though it emanated from the very core of the earth.
"The time has come."
Kael's eyes widened, his body frozen in place. "Who's there?!" His voice cracked, the words barely escaping as his fingers curled into fists. He looked around, but the forest was still—eerily still.
"The Fallen will rise again."
A chill ran down Kael's spine. The voice was unmistakably ancient, filled with a power that he couldn't comprehend. "What does that mean?" he whispered, the mark on his hand glowing faintly in response, as though the stone's power had left its mark on him.
Before he could move, a voice pierced through the tension, sharp and commanding.
"Kael!" Elder Vasra's voice called from the shadows.
Kael spun around to see the elder emerging from the trees, her expression a mix of concern and sternness. Her eyes immediately fixed on the glowing mark on his hand. "You've found it, haven't you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kael opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find the words. The mark, glowing brighter now, felt like it was burning into his skin. His pulse hammered in his chest.
"I—I didn't mean to," Kael stammered, panic rising in his throat. "I just found this stone, and then—"
"The Mark of the Fallen," Elder Vasra interrupted, her voice heavy with the weight of her words. She took a step closer, her gaze never leaving his hand. "It was sealed away for a reason, Kael. Long ago, when the realms were still whole, this mark belonged to a being who could control both the Light and the Dark. But the power it holds... it's not meant for mortals."
"But what does it mean?" Kael asked, his voice strained. He was still trying to grasp the enormity of what was happening. "The Fallen? What are you talking about?"
Elder Vasra's face softened, a shadow of regret crossing her features. "The Mark signifies the coming of the end of the realms as we know them. Whoever bears it is destined to either mend the rift between Light and Dark—or shatter everything in their wake. You've been chosen, Kael. Whether you like it or not."
"But I didn't ask for this! I didn't want this," Kael snapped, frustration bubbling up. His hands trembled, the weight of the mark growing heavier with every passing second.
Elder Vasra's gaze softened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know. But fate doesn't care for what we want. It only cares for what we're destined to do. And now, your path is set."
Kael shook his head, disbelief taking root. "What should I do now?"
"You need to understand," Elder Vasra said, her voice grave. "The realms are on the brink of war. The balance is fragile. And you—the one who bears the Mark of the Fallen—will be the one to tip the scales. Either you will find the others who share this curse and learn to control the power, or you will fall to it, just as those before you did."
Kael swallowed hard, his mind racing with questions he couldn't even begin to ask. "But I don't know where to start. I don't even know what I'm supposed to do."
Elder Vasra took a deep breath, her expression serious. "There are others like you. They, too, bear the mark. Find them. Only then will you understand the true weight of your role in this war."
Kael looked down at his hand, the mark now glowing with an intensity he had never felt before. He could feel the power surging through him—undeniable, unrelenting. His heart pounded as the weight of his destiny began to settle on his shoulders.
"You must go," Elder Vasra urged, her tone firm. "The time for hesitation is over."
Kael took one last look at the stone, now dull and lifeless on the ground. "And if I fail?"
"Then the realms will fall," she replied softly, her eyes somber. "And so will you."