That evening, as the villagers huddled around the remnants of their homes, the air grew thick with the smell of smoke and rain. Thunder rolled in the distance, yet no rain fell. Kairon sat on a stone near the edge of the village, staring at the horizon where the earthquake had left a deep scar in the earth.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Turning his head, he saw a hooded figure approaching. The stranger moved with an unnatural grace, his dark cloak billowing around him despite the stillness of the wind.
"Kairon," the figure said, his voice low and cold.
"How do you know my name?" Kairon stood, his body tensing. Something about this man felt off—dangerous, even.
The stranger lowered his hood, revealing sharp features and piercing blue eyes. "The same way I know what you've become. The Breath of Destiny has marked you. And it won't be long before others come looking for you."
Kairon took a step back, instinctively reaching for the small knife at his side. "What do you want?"
The stranger tilted his head, as if amused. "I've come to warn you. Powers are awakening, and you've been thrust into the heart of it. But the light you carry—it's dangerous. It will attract those who seek to control it."
"What do you mean?" Kairon's grip tightened on the knife.
"There are those who would kill for what you possess," the man said darkly. "You think this power is a gift, but it's also a curse. The kingdoms will come for you, and they won't stop until they have what they want."
Kairon's heart pounded. "Why should I trust you?"
"You don't have to," the stranger replied, turning to leave. "But know this—if you stay here, your village will be the first casualty in a war that's been brewing for centuries."
Before Kairon could respond, the stranger disappeared into the shadows, leaving Kairon alone with the weight of his warning.