The town of Eldoria was known for its perpetual twilight, a place where the sky never fully embraced the sun nor succumbed to darkness. Hidden in the misty valleys of an uncharted land, it was a place outsiders rarely stumbled upon, and when they did, they never left unchanged.
Sixteen-year-old Alden Ravenshade had lived in Eldoria all his life, but he had never truly belonged. While the other boys of the town spent their days training as blacksmiths or hunters, Alden found himself drawn to the forbidden tomes hidden in the archives beneath the Elder's Hall. Books of ancient magic, legends of lost empires, and whispers of a forgotten power—the kind that had once ruled over Eldoria before the land had sealed itself away.
Tonight, however, Alden had no time for dusty books. Something had changed.
The air was thick with an unnatural energy, and his skin prickled with a sensation he couldn't explain. He hurried through the cobbled streets, his cloak billowing behind him, past the dimly lit lanterns that flickered with an eerie blue glow. At the town's edge, a towering oak stood against the backdrop of the silver-lit sky. It was known as the Moonspire, the oldest tree in Eldoria, rumored to have roots that dug into the bones of the world itself.
Alden stopped short. His breath caught in his throat.
A symbol had appeared on the bark of the tree—one that had not been there before.
It pulsed, glowing faintly with golden light, and though he had never seen it before, something deep inside him recognized it. It was a crest of intertwining lines, forming the shape of an eye with a jagged scar running through it. The longer he stared, the more it seemed to call to him.
Without thinking, Alden reached out.
The moment his fingers brushed the symbol, a searing pain shot through his arm, burning like fire beneath his skin. He tried to pull away, but his body refused to move. The golden light surged up his fingers, traveling through his veins, sending sparks of raw energy into his chest. He gasped, eyes wide as his mind flooded with visions.
A throne made of obsidian, standing in a ruined castle.
A man with silver eyes, his hand outstretched in an unspoken command.
A beast with wings that blotted out the sky.
And a name.
"Alden Ravenshade, heir to the Arcane Throne."
The visions shattered, and Alden collapsed to his knees. His breath came in ragged gasps, his fingers still tingling with residual energy. He clenched his hands into fists, willing the sensation to fade, but the damage was done.
The Mark of Eldoria now glowed on the back of his palm.
Before he could process what had happened, a voice rang out behind him.
"You've touched the seal."
Alden spun around.
A hooded figure stood in the shadows, their presence radiating something ancient and knowing. The stranger took a step forward, the lantern light revealing a face carved with age yet untouched by time. Eyes that gleamed like liquid silver watched him with quiet intensity.
Alden swallowed hard. "Who are you?"
The stranger studied him for a long moment before answering.
"The question, young heir, is not who I am," they said, their voice a whisper of wind and forgotten memories. "But what you have just awakened."
Alden felt the weight of the Mark on his skin, the lingering pulse of magic still thrumming through his veins. He didn't know what had just happened to him, but one thing was certain—his life would never be the same again.
And deep in the ruins beyond Eldoria, in a place where no mortal dared to tread, something ancient stirred.
Something that had been waiting for him.