The path twisted and turned, the air thickening with every step. Alysia could feel the magic around her changing—stronger, more volatile.
Suddenly, a searing pain erupted on her forearm, and she cried out, clutching at her skin. A glowing symbol began to etch itself into her flesh, the lines intricate and pulsating with energy.
Aragos stopped and turned to her, his eyes widening. "The Mark of the Chosen," he murmured.
Alysia gritted her teeth against the pain. "What… what does it mean?"
"It means the forest has accepted you," he said, awe lacing his voice. "You're bound to it now. Its magic will answer to you, but its trials will be relentless."
The glow faded, leaving a faint, shimmering sigil on her skin. Alysia stared at it, her breath shallow. "Why me?"
"Because you're stronger than you think," Aragos said, his tone softer now. "And because your destiny is tied to forces even I don't fully understand."
Alysia clenched her fist, feeling the power of the mark thrumming within her. For the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't feel lost. She felt ready.
"Let's keep going," she said, her voice firm.
Aragos nodded, and together, they stepped into the unknown, the path ahead glowing faintly with the promise of new trials—and new revelations.