The forest stretched endlessly in all directions, its ancient trees towering like watchful sentinels. Raya's breath came shallow as he steadied himself against a nearby trunk, his legs trembling beneath him. His body felt unfamiliar—smaller, lighter, yet buzzing with a strange energy he couldn't quite grasp. He stared at his hands, smooth and youthful, the calluses of his former life gone.
The mark on his wrist pulsed faintly, its soft glow casting an eerie light on the mossy ground. It seemed alive, responding to his thoughts. When frustration roiled within him, the glow grew sharper, almost blinding, but when his breathing slowed, it dimmed.
"This... this can't be real," Raya whispered, his voice trembling. "What is this place?"
The air was rich with unfamiliar scents: damp earth, sweet blossoms, and something faintly metallic. Strange bird-like creatures flitted above, their iridescent wings catching the sunlight that filtered through the canopy. It was nothing like the grim streets of Embion.
Before he could gather his bearings, the snap of a twig broke the silence. Instinctively, Raya dropped low, his body moving before his mind caught up. Three figures emerged from the underbrush: hunters clad in leather armor, their faces smudged with dirt and weariness.
"Who's there?" one of them called out, a young man gripping a notched spear. His voice was wary, but not hostile.
Raya hesitated, unsure of what to say. His body still felt weak, unprepared for a fight.
"I mean no harm," Raya said, raising his hands cautiously.
The hunters exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. An older woman among them stepped forward, her bow slung across her back.
"You're not from here," she said, her sharp eyes scanning him. "That much is clear. But how did you survive in these woods? The Fell Sovereign's shadows patrol these parts."
"The... Fell Sovereign?" Raya asked, the name unfamiliar but foreboding.
The woman's face darkened. "Come with us. If you're alive, you're either very lucky or very cursed."
---
The hunters led Raya to their village, nestled in a clearing surrounded by trees as ancient as time itself. The homes were simple, built from wood and stone, but there was a sense of unease in the air. The villagers moved quickly, their eyes darting to the shadows as though expecting something to strike at any moment.
As they walked, Raya pieced together fragments of their world. This was Lysera, a realm bound by the Eternal Pact, a system of magic and destiny that governed the lives of its inhabitants. The Fell Sovereign, a dark ruler whose rise had thrown the realm into chaos, sought to unravel this balance, spreading corruption and despair.
When they arrived at the heart of the village, the hunters brought Raya to an elder's hut. Inside, the air was thick with incense, and a blind woman sat cross-legged on a woven mat. Her milky white eyes turned toward Raya as though she could see him.
"You carry the mark," she said, her voice both fragile and commanding.
Raya stiffened. "What do you know about this?" He held up his wrist, the mark glowing faintly.
The elder smiled faintly. "It is the mark of a soul displaced. You are not of this world, are you?"
Raya hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. "No," he admitted finally. "I... was someone else, somewhere else. I don't know why I'm here."
The elder nodded knowingly. "The mark binds you to your purpose, though that purpose is not yet clear. Your soul carries the weight of vengeance, heavy enough to burn through lifetimes. But vengeance is a fire that consumes even the one who wields it. Tell me, Raya—will you let it consume you again?"
Her words struck a nerve. "What do you know about me?" he snapped.
"I know that you've come here not by accident, but by design," she said. "The corruption you see around you—the poisoned rivers, the dying trees—it mirrors the corruption you fought against in your old life. The Fell Sovereign's power feeds on hatred and despair, just as you have."
Raya clenched his fists. "I don't need riddles. I need answers."
Before the elder could reply, a loud horn blared in the distance, shattering the uneasy calm.
---
The village erupted into chaos as armored soldiers poured through the trees. Their forms were twisted, their armor blackened and jagged, their eyes glowing with an unnatural red light. The villagers screamed, scrambling to defend themselves with whatever weapons they had.
Raya moved instinctively, grabbing a fallen spear and rushing toward the fray. His body felt different, faster, stronger. The mark on his wrist flared as he struck the first soldier, the weapon piercing through the corrupted armor with ease.
But as he fought, something inside him stirred. The mark pulsed wildly, reacting to his anger. Every strike sent waves of energy through his body, and with each burst, his vision blurred. He felt unstoppable, invincible—but also out of control.
"Raya, stop!" a voice shouted. It was the elder, standing at the edge of the battlefield.
Raya ignored her, his focus locked on the enemies before him. He struck down soldier after soldier, the power in his veins surging like a tidal wave. But then, the mark on his wrist flared violently, sending a shockwave outward. The force knocked villagers and soldiers alike to the ground, and Raya collapsed to his knees, gasping for air.
The battlefield fell silent as the remaining soldiers retreated into the forest, leaving behind their dead. The villagers stared at Raya, their expressions a mix of awe and fear.
"What... what is this power?" Raya muttered, staring at the glowing mark on his wrist.
The elder approached him, her face grave. "It is a gift, and a curse. The mark responds to your emotions—your anger, your hatred. If you let it control you, it will destroy not just your enemies, but yourself and everything around you."
Raya looked at his trembling hands, his mind racing. Was this power meant to help him, or was it another form of torment?
As the villagers began to rebuild, the elder placed a hand on his shoulder. "Your journey is far from over, Raya. The Fell Sovereign's corruption runs deep, and you may be the only one capable of stopping it. But first, you must master the fire within you. If you fail..."
"I won't fail," Raya said, though the doubt lingered in his heart.
The elder nodded but said nothing more. As Raya stood amidst the ruins of the village, he knew one thing for certain: his path was no longer about vengeance alone. Whatever purpose had brought him to this world, he would uncover it—and he would face it, no matter the cost.