Dera walked through the dense forest surrounding Agorva, the weight of the elder's words pressing heavily on his mind. The Ebube Spirit Stone pulsed faintly in the pouch tied to his waist, a reminder of the power he now carried and the responsibility he couldn't escape. The vision he had seen still haunted him—the shadowy figure, the cries of battle, and the ominous whisper of destiny. What did it all mean?
Lost in thought, he didn't notice the rustling of leaves behind him until a sharp voice broke the stillness. "You're not very careful for someone carrying such a treasure."
Startled, Dera spun around, his hand instinctively moving to his pouch. A young woman stepped out from behind the trees, her movements graceful but deliberate. She had a sharp, confident gaze, and her long braided hair shimmered in the sunlight. She wore simple traveling robes, but the sword at her side marked her as someone who knew how to handle herself.
"Who are you?" Dera demanded, his voice steady despite the unease creeping into his chest.
"I could ask you the same," she said, crossing her arms. "But judging by the way you're clutching that pouch, I already know. You're the one the stone chose, aren't you?"
Dera stiffened. "How do you know about the stone?"
She took a step closer, her expression softening. "Because I've been sent to protect it—and you. My name is Adaora, and I'm from the Azure Sky Sect."
"The sect?" Dera repeated, narrowing his eyes. He had heard of the legendary cultivators who trained in the distant mountains, far beyond the reach of his quiet village. But why would someone from such a place care about him?
"Yes," Adaora said firmly. "The stone isn't just a relic. It's a powerful artifact, and its awakening has already drawn the attention of forces you can't begin to imagine. You're in danger, Dera, whether you believe it or not."
Dera hesitated. He had spent his life as a simple villager, chopping wood and tending to chores. Now, this stranger was telling him he was part of something far greater than himself. "Why me?" he finally asked, his voice low. "I'm no warrior, no cultivator. I'm just… me."
Adaora studied him for a moment before speaking. "Sometimes, destiny doesn't care what you think of yourself. The stone chose you, and that means you have a duty to protect it, whether you like it or not."
Her words stung, but they carried a truth he couldn't deny. He clenched his fists, torn between the desire to run from this burden and the growing realization that he couldn't.
"Fine," he said after a long pause. "But if this is my duty, I'll do it my way."
Adaora's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Good. But don't think you'll be doing this alone."
As they walked back toward the village, Dera couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far greater than himself—something that would test not only his strength but his heart.