The wind howled through the dense canopy of the Aeltherian Forest, carrying with it the whispers of a storm. Lucas pulled his hood tighter against the chill, his boots crunching on the frost-bitten undergrowth. The path ahead was barely visible, obscured by creeping fog that seemed to rise from the earth itself.
He paused at a clearing, glancing back toward the faint glow of the village of Tarlion, nestled at the edge of the woods. It was the only home he'd ever known—a place of quiet routines, warm hearths, and the occasional festival that broke the monotony. But that life felt like a distant memory now. The mark on his wrist—a faint, pulsing sigil—had changed everything.
"Keep moving," Lucas muttered to himself, his breath fogging in the cold air. He gripped the staff at his side, a simple yet sturdy weapon gifted to him by Eldrin, his mentor. The sigil burned faintly, as if sensing his hesitation.
The mark had appeared three nights ago, during a vivid dream of shadowed figures and a crumbling city bathed in crimson light. When Lucas woke, the sigil had been there, glowing faintly on his skin, and with it, an unbearable restlessness. Eldrin had recognized the mark immediately.
"It's the Curse of Eryndor," the old mage had said, his voice grave. "It means the realm has chosen you, Lucas. The curse is awakening."
Lucas hadn't fully understood, but he knew one thing for certain—his ordinary life in Tarlion was over.
The clearing gave way to a narrow, winding path that led deeper into the forest. The fog thickened, and the trees loomed like silent sentinels. Lucas tightened his grip on his staff, his senses alert. Eldrin had warned him about venturing too far into the Aeltherian Forest. "The curse stirs strange things," he had said. "Creatures best left undisturbed."
As if in response to the warning, a low growl rumbled through the mist. Lucas froze, his heart hammering. The sound came again, closer this time—a guttural snarl that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
"Who's there?" Lucas called, his voice steadier than he felt.
The mist parted, revealing a pair of glowing eyes. A creature emerged from the shadows, its form twisted and unnatural. It resembled a wolf, but its fur shimmered like molten silver, and its teeth glinted with a metallic sheen.
Lucas raised his staff, summoning the magic that pulsed faintly in his veins. The sigil on his wrist flared to life, casting a pale blue light over the clearing. The creature hesitated, its glowing eyes narrowing.
"Back off," Lucas warned, though he doubted the creature would understand.
It didn't. With a snarl, it lunged, its claws slashing through the air. Lucas reacted instinctively, raising his staff and releasing a burst of energy. The force slammed into the creature, sending it skidding across the clearing. It recovered quickly, shaking itself off, and growled again.
Lucas's heart pounded. He wasn't a warrior, nor a battle-hardened mage. The few spells Eldrin had taught him were meant for defense, not fighting off magical beasts.
The creature lunged again, and Lucas barely had time to dodge. Its claws raked the air where he'd stood moments before. Lucas raised his staff, preparing to cast another spell, but before he could, a voice rang out.
"Hold your ground!"
A figure stepped into the clearing, cloaked in shadow and mist. With a sweeping motion, they raised their hand, and a wave of fire erupted from their fingertips. The flames roared toward the creature, forcing it back. It let out a furious snarl before retreating into the forest.
Lucas stared at the newcomer, his breath catching. She was tall, with piercing green eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light. Her auburn hair was tied back, and she carried herself with a confidence that belied her slender frame.
"You're lucky I came along," she said, lowering her hand. "That creature would have torn you apart."
Lucas blinked, still clutching his staff. "Who are you?"
The woman smiled faintly. "Eira. And you must be Lucas."
He frowned. "How do you know my name?"
Eira stepped closer, her gaze flicking to the glowing sigil on his wrist. "Because of that. You're marked by the curse."
Lucas instinctively covered the sigil with his hand, though it did little to hide its faint glow. "How do you know about the curse?"
"I've been tracking it for weeks," Eira said. "And now, it's brought me to you."
Lucas hesitated, unsure whether to trust her. But something about her presence felt…reassuring. She seemed to know more about the curse than he did, and if she was willing to help, he couldn't afford to turn her away.
"I didn't ask for this," Lucas said, lowering his staff. "I just want to figure out what's happening to me."
Eira nodded. "Then we're on the same side. The curse is waking, and if we don't stop it, Eryndor will fall."
Her words sent a shiver down Lucas's spine. He glanced at the path ahead, the fog swirling like a living thing. Whatever lay beyond the forest, it was far more dangerous than anything he had faced before. But if Eira was right, he had no choice but to face it.
"Fine," Lucas said. "But if we're going to work together, I need to know what you're hiding."
Eira's smile faded. For a moment, she looked almost vulnerable, but she quickly masked it with a smirk. "Fair enough. But first, we need to move. That creature wasn't the only one lurking in these woods."
Lucas nodded, and together they set off into the mist, the sigil on his wrist glowing faintly as the storm grew closer.