The night was thick with the weight of prophecy, and the winds howled across the desolate landscape like the echoes of a forgotten war. In the distance, the shattered spires of Eldrathar stood as the last remnants of a kingdom that had fallen, its legacy marked only by blood and the faint whispers of those who once called it home. The curse had come like a storm—unseen but felt in every corner of the world, a darkness creeping through the cracks of the earth, binding all who dared to hope to a fate they could not escape.

Far away, in a forest untouched by time, a young man stood at the edge of the world, his dark eyes tracing the sky. He was a mere shadow, drifting in the quiet isolation of his exile. His name was Arlo, and he had long since learned to live in the quiet spaces between worlds—where no one could see him, and he could see no one. The curse that bound him had erased his past, leaving him adrift without memory or purpose. And yet, the pain that throbbed within him—a constant ache in the pit of his chest—was a reminder that something had been lost, something he could never reclaim.

As he stared into the abyss of the void, he felt it. A pull. A distant call. He didn't understand it, but it was there, like a heartbeat—steady and insistent. It was a connection, something deeper than fate, something that tethered him to a destiny that refused to let go. The wind shifted, and with it came a flicker of light—strange and fleeting—like the last dying embers of a star.

He wasn't alone.

A figure emerged from the shadows, a man with eyes like the storm and a presence that seemed to crackle with unspoken power. Kaelen. The seer who had seen the truth of what lay ahead, but never the price that would have to be paid. Their paths were bound together, two souls marked by the same curse, the same fate. But unlike Arlo, Kaelen knew the weight of it. Kaelen had always known.

"You're late," Arlo said quietly, his voice rough from disuse.

Kaelen did not answer right away, his gaze steady as it met Arlo's. "I came because I knew you would need me. We cannot escape this, Arlo. The curse binds us, whether we choose to acknowledge it or not."

"Then what is the point?" Arlo's voice cracked, a sudden surge of frustration breaking through his calm. "Why fight? Why even try?"

Kaelen's expression softened. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them until they stood mere inches apart. "Because we are not just the curse we carry. We are the hope of what is yet to come. And if we do nothing, the darkness will swallow everything."

The night seemed to breathe around them, the weight of their words hanging in the air like a final plea for redemption. The wind died down, and for a moment, there was only silence. In that moment, Arlo understood. He understood the pull, the ache that had driven him from the moment he had awakened.

They were not just the cursed. They were the ones who could end it.

But at what cost?