Chapter 2 The Mark of the Chosen

The light led her deeper than she'd ever dared venture. Trees arched like guardians above, their limbs draped with silver moss that glowed faintly in the moonlight. The path twisted and wound like a snake, and Kaela followed as though in a trance.

She arrived at a clearing unlike any she had seen-silent, sacred, and steeped in magic. In its center stood a crystal pedestal, and upon it rested a radiant blue shard, glowing softly like the moon caught in glass.

Her breath caught. This was no ordinary stone. It pulsed in harmony with her heartbeat.

Drawn forward, Kaela reached out. The moment her fingers brushed the shard, a jolt of energy surged through her. Symbols bloomed across her forearm-runes, ancient and glowing with the same light as the crystal. She gasped, falling to her knees as visions flooded her mind.

A city of silver towers crumbling under a black sky. A queen with fire in her eyes. A dragon chained beneath a mountain. And a voice-an ancient voice.

"You are the last of the Eldaran line. The fate of the realms lies with you."

Kaela cried out, the vision fading, leaving only the echo of the words and the mark on her arm.

The shard floated from the pedestal into her hands, warm and alive.

Then the forest shifted. The once-gentle wind roared like a beast, and shadow spilled across the clearing. From the trees emerged cloaked figures, eyes glowing amber, weapons drawn.

"The Heir has awakened," one growled.

Kaela ran.