The moon hung high in the sky as Caelum stood at the base of the mountain. The air was thin, and the wind carried with it the faintest echo of voices. Strange voices. Caelum's mind whirled, as though the very mountain itself was speaking to him, calling to him. The sword in his hand pulsed, responding to the whispers, as though it recognized something familiar in the ancient stone.
A low growl echoed through the night, and Caelum stiffened. He had not been alone on this mountain. Something—no, someone—was watching him.
Before he could react, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was cloaked, tall and imposing. Caelum's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the dark aura surrounding the figure.
"You've come," the figure's voice was low and rumbling, filled with an ancient power that sent a shiver down Caelum's spine. "I've been waiting for you."
Caelum raised the sword instinctively, but the figure only smiled—if it could be called a smile—and raised a hand in peace.
"You are not the first to come seeking answers. The Shadow King's bloodline runs deep, and you… are his heir."
Caelum's blood ran cold. The words hit him like a hammer. The Shadow King's heir? How could that be? He had never known his father, his lineage, his past. His only goal had been to destroy the evil that the Shadow King had left behind.
"Who are you?" Caelum demanded, trying to hide the unease that was creeping up his spine.
The figure's smile widened. "I am but a whisper in the wind. But you… you will soon learn the truth. Your destiny is not to destroy the darkness, Caelum. It is to wield it."
The figure stepped closer, and the sword in Caelum's hand seemed to resonate with the mountain's power, its blade vibrating with the promise of terrible things to come.
"No," Caelum growled, stepping back. "I won't let it consume me."
But deep down, Caelum knew the truth. The darkness was already within him, and it would not be so easily cast aside.