The morning mist still clung to the trees as Arin made his way through the familiar woods surrounding Briarwood. The previous day's conversation with his parents had brought some comfort, but the weight of the birthmark and the prophecy still pressed heavily on his mind. He had risen early, driven by a restless energy that left him yearning for the solitude of the forest.
The forest had always been a place of peace for Arin, a world away from the worries of the farm. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, each path and clearing a part of his childhood. But today, something felt different. The air was thick with a tension he couldn't quite place, as if the very trees were holding their breath.
He wandered deeper into the woods, following a path that led to an old, forgotten clearing. The trees here grew tall and close together, their branches forming a canopy that filtered the light into soft, dappled patterns on the forest floor. As he stepped into the clearing, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He wasn't alone.
"Who's there?" Arin called out, his voice echoing in the stillness.
At first, there was no response. Then, from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, a figure emerged. It was the same man he had met the day before—the one who had spoken of prophecies and destinies. He wore a long, dark cloak that seemed to blend with the shadows, and his eyes glinted with a strange, knowing light.
"We meet again, young Arin," the man said, his voice calm and measured.
Arin tensed, unsure whether to run or stand his ground. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice betraying his uncertainty.
The man stepped closer, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I am but a messenger, sent to guide those who are destined for greatness."
Arin's heart pounded in his chest. "I don't want to be part of any prophecy. I'm just a farm boy."
The man chuckled softly. "Perhaps that is what you were, but it is not what you are meant to be. The birthmark you bear is no ordinary mark, Arin. It is the symbol of the Dragon Knights, a sign that you are chosen."
Arin instinctively covered the birthmark with his hand, as if hiding it could make the man's words untrue. "Chosen for what?"
"To protect Eldoria from the darkness that is coming," the man replied, his tone serious now. "The artifact you will find is the key to that protection, but you must be ready when the time comes."
Arin shook his head, backing away. "No, this isn't real. This can't be real. I just want to go back to my life."
"The life you knew is gone, Arin," the man said softly. "The sooner you accept that, the sooner you can prepare for what lies ahead."
Arin felt the weight of the man's words, the truth in them pressing down on him. He wanted to deny it, to reject the idea that his life could be anything more than what it had always been. But deep down, he knew the man was right. Something inside him had changed, and there was no going back.
"What do I have to do?" Arin asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The man nodded, as if pleased by the question. "Seek out the artifact hidden in these woods. It is a weapon of great power, forged long ago by the Dragon Knights. With it, you will be able to defend Eldoria from the darkness that approaches."
Arin swallowed hard, fear and doubt warring within him. "And if I refuse?"
"Then Eldoria will fall," the man said simply. "The choice is yours, Arin, but know this: the darkness will not wait for you to make up your mind."
Arin stared at the man, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. He had always dreamed of adventure, of being more than just a farm boy, but now that the opportunity was before him, all he felt was fear.
"I… I don't know if I can do this," Arin admitted, his voice trembling.
"You are stronger than you know," the man said gently. "And you will not be alone. Others will join you in this fight, and together, you will have the power to change the fate of Eldoria."
Arin looked down at his hand, at the birthmark that seemed to glow with a faint, inner light. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Where do I start?"
The man smiled, a warm and reassuring expression. "You've already begun, Arin. Trust in yourself, and in the path that lies before you. The artifact is close—follow the signs, and it will lead you to your destiny."
Before Arin could respond, the man stepped back into the shadows, his form fading until he was gone. The clearing seemed suddenly empty, the tension in the air dissipating as if the encounter had been nothing more than a dream.
But Arin knew it was real. The weight of the birthmark on his palm, the words of the man—they were all too vivid to dismiss. He stood in the clearing for a long moment, his mind reeling from what had just happened.
Finally, he turned and began walking back toward the village, his steps heavy with the burden of what he now knew. He had a choice to make, but deep down, he realized that the choice had already been made for him the moment the birthmark began to glow.
As he emerged from the forest and the familiar sight of Briarwood came into view, Arin felt a strange sense of calm settle over him. The fear was still there, but beneath it was a growing resolve. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it.
And so, with the weight of destiny on his shoulders, Arin returned to his life—but it was a life forever changed. The farm, the village, even his family—they were all part of a world that was slipping away, replaced by something far greater and far more terrifying.
But as Arin looked out over the fields, the sun setting in the distance, he felt a spark of hope. He was not alone, and whatever the future held, he would meet it head-on. The time for doubt was over. The time for action had begun.