Kain had always believed his life would be ordinary. The kind of ordinary that meant calloused hands from tilling the earth, aching muscles from carrying harvests, and nights spent under the stars dreaming of adventures he'd never have. His village, nestled in the valley between two towering mountains, was far from anywhere important. People came, stayed, and died without so much as a whisper of change.
But the day he stumbled upon the glowing tablet in the abandoned cavern, Kain realized his life was no longer his own.
It had started innocently enough. He had been tracking a wild boar, one that had been ravaging the village's crops for weeks. The beast had been clever, eluding every snare and trap. But Kain was patient, determined. He followed its trail deeper into the forest, past the well-worn paths he knew, into the shadows of the cliffs that loomed over his home.
He hadn't meant to find the cavern. The boar's tracks led him there, vanishing into the mouth of the cave like the beast had been swallowed by the mountain itself. Kain hesitated at first. Stories of cursed places whispered by the village elders clawed at his mind. But hunger and desperation outweighed fear, and he ventured inside.
The air was cold, unnaturally so, and carried a metallic tang that made his skin prickle. His torch sputtered as he moved deeper, the flickering light casting wild shadows on the jagged walls. Then he saw it—a faint glow emanating from the far end of the cavern, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Kain approached cautiously, his knife drawn. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light, but as he neared, he saw the source. A slab of stone, roughly the size of a door, stood upright, etched with markings that seemed to shift when he looked away.
He reached out, fingers trembling, and the moment his skin brushed the surface, the tablet came to life. Light surged from the carvings, filling the cavern with a warm, golden glow. The symbols twisted and reformed, rearranging themselves into patterns he almost understood. A low hum filled the air, vibrating deep in his chest.
Kain stumbled back, his knife clattering to the ground. "What in the—"
"You shouldn't have come here," a voice interrupted, smooth and calm.
Kain spun around, his heart hammering. A man stood at the entrance of the cavern, cloaked in shadow but unmistakably human. He stepped forward, revealing a lean figure dressed in dark leathers. His mismatched eyes—one green, one golden—shone with an otherworldly light.
"Who are you?" Kain demanded, scrambling to retrieve his knife.
The man tilted his head, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You can call me Orin. And you, my friend, are in over your head."
Kain narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about? I just—"
"You just touched the Luck of Gods," Orin interrupted, his tone turning grave. He gestured to the glowing tablet. "That thing isn't just a pretty piece of stone. It's a tool. A weapon. And by touching it, you've lit a beacon for every god in the heavens to see."
Kain stared at him, disbelief warring with fear. "You're insane. This is just a… a relic or something."
"Is it?" Orin raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, did it speak to you? Did you feel it calling your name?"
The words struck a chord. Kain had felt something—a pull, a whisper in his mind that he couldn't quite explain. But he shook his head. "You're trying to scare me. I don't believe you."
Orin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Believe me or don't, but the gods will be here soon enough, and they won't be interested in explanations."
Before Kain could respond, the light from the tablet flared, casting long, twisting shadows on the cavern walls. The hum grew louder, more insistent, and the air turned icy.
Orin's expression darkened. "Too late." He unsheathed a blade from his hip, its edge gleaming with an iridescent glow. "They're here."
The shadows on the walls began to move, peeling away from the stone as if they were alive. They coalesced into towering figures, their forms shifting and writhing, their eyes glowing like embers. A low, guttural whisper filled the air, a language Kain couldn't understand but felt in his bones.
Panic clawed at his throat. "What are they?"
"Gods," Orin said grimly, stepping in front of him. "Or what's left of them. Stay behind me, and don't do anything stupid."
Kain wanted to argue, to demand answers, but the sight of the approaching figures stole the words from his mouth. The largest of them, a shadowy mass with burning white eyes, stepped forward, its gaze fixed on the tablet.
"Give it to us," it intoned, its voice reverberating through the cavern.
Orin raised his blade, a wicked grin splitting his face. "Sorry, but that's not happening."
The shadow lunged, and the cavern erupted into chaos. Orin moved like a blur, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Where it struck, the shadows recoiled, hissing like steam against fire.
Kain pressed himself against the wall, heart pounding as he watched the battle unfold. Orin was fast, impossibly so, but the shadows kept coming, their numbers multiplying.
One of them broke away, its glowing eyes locking onto Kain. It surged forward, its form twisting and reshaping as it moved. Kain scrambled for his knife, but his fingers were clumsy, his grip slick with sweat.
"Duck!" Orin shouted.
Kain dropped to the ground just as Orin's blade sliced through the shadow, scattering it into wisps of smoke.
"Get up!" Orin barked, yanking him to his feet. "We need to move!"
Kain didn't argue. Together, they ran, the shadows pursuing them through the narrow passages of the cavern. The tablet's glow faded behind them, but its hum lingered in Kain's chest, a reminder of what he had awakened.
When they finally burst into the open air, Kain collapsed, gasping for breath. Orin stood over him, sword still in hand, his eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of pursuit.
"Congratulations," he said dryly. "You just became the most wanted mortal in the world."
Kain glared up at him. "What the hell just happened?"
Orin sheathed his blade and offered a hand. "What happened," he said, pulling Kain to his feet, "is that you've been chosen. Whether you like it or not, your life is no longer your own."
Kain's mind raced, questions piling on top of each other. But one thought rose above the rest: The gods were real. And they were coming for him.