Elara's body ached as she woke, sprawled on the forest floor. Cold dew clung to her skin, soaking through her clothes. The faint light of dawn crept through the trees, casting long shadows across the underbrush. Her head throbbed, and when she tried to sit up, a sharp pain lanced through her chest, right where the fire had burned inside her the night before.
She winced, clutching her ribs. The heat was gone now, replaced by a dull ache that made her limbs feel heavy. Her memories of the night were fragmented—flashes of silver eyes, the stranger's warning, and the unbearable fire that had coursed through her body. And then darkness.
What had happened to her?
As she steadied her breathing, she became acutely aware of her surroundings. The forest was eerily quiet, the usual rustle of leaves and chatter of birds absent. It was as though the woods were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.
Elara forced herself to her feet, biting back a groan as her muscles protested. Her cloak was torn, and dirt clung to her skin. She glanced around, searching for any sign of the stranger, but the forest was empty. He was gone, leaving only questions in his wake.
You've been marked by the curse, he had said.
Her hand instinctively went to her chest, fingers brushing against the fabric of her tunic. She couldn't feel anything unusual, but the memory of that searing pain lingered. What did he mean by "marked"? And why had he disappeared without explaining?
The questions swirled in her mind as she stumbled back toward the village. The path was unfamiliar, twisted and overgrown, but she followed the faint scent of smoke and the distant outline of rooftops in the morning haze. Her thoughts raced with every step. She needed answers—answers that only Elder Oren might have.
As she neared the village, the familiar sight of Blackwood's stone cottages came into view. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the faint sounds of morning chores echoed through the streets. Relief washed over her, but it was quickly replaced by a gnawing sense of dread. How would she explain her disappearance? And more importantly, would anyone believe what she had seen?
"Elara!"
The voice startled her, and she turned to see Corwin sprinting toward her, his face etched with worry. His blond hair was tousled, and there were dark circles under his eyes as though he hadn't slept all night.
"Where have you been?" he demanded, his voice trembling. "I went to your house this morning, and your parents said you never came home! We thought—" He broke off, his eyes scanning her disheveled appearance. "What happened to you?"
Elara opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. How could she explain what had happened in the woods without sounding insane? The howl, the stranger, the fire inside her—it all sounded like something out of a nightmare.
"I… I got lost," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I went for a walk last night and… I must have wandered too far into the woods."
Corwin's eyes narrowed. "You went into the woods? Alone? After everything Elder Oren said?"
"I didn't mean to," she said quickly. "I just… I wasn't thinking."
His expression softened, but there was still a flicker of concern in his eyes. "You're lucky you're not dead," he muttered. "The forest isn't safe. Not anymore."
Elara bit her lip, her gaze dropping to the ground. She wanted to tell him the truth, to share the strange events of the night, but something held her back. The memory of the stranger's warning echoed in her mind. I'm the only one who can keep you safe.
"I need to see Elder Oren," she said suddenly.
Corwin blinked in surprise. "The elder? Why?"
"I just… I need to talk to him."
He hesitated, then nodded. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."
Together, they made their way through the village square, where merchants were setting up their stalls and villagers bustled about their morning routines. The tension from the previous night lingered in the air, palpable and heavy. People cast wary glances toward the forest, their faces lined with fear.
Elder Oren's cottage stood at the far end of the square, its weathered stone walls covered in ivy. Smoke curled from the chimney, and the faint scent of herbs wafted through the air. Elara hesitated at the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always found the elder intimidating, with his sharp eyes and cryptic warnings. But now, she needed his guidance more than ever.
Corwin knocked on the door, and after a few moments, it creaked open. Elder Oren stood in the doorway, his expression grave. His silver hair was unkempt, and his eyes held a weariness that spoke of sleepless nights.
"Elara," he said, his voice low. "I had a feeling you would come."
Her stomach twisted. "You… you knew?"
He stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter. "Come inside. There is much to discuss."
The interior of the cottage was dimly lit, filled with the scent of dried herbs and burning incense. Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jars of strange powders and bundles of plants. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room.
Elder Oren motioned for them to sit at a wooden table. He leaned heavily on his staff as he settled into a chair across from them, his eyes fixed on Elara.
"You were in the woods last night," he said matter-of-factly.
Elara's breath caught in her throat. "How did you—"
"There are ancient forces at work, child. Forces that have been dormant for many years. But they are stirring once again."
She swallowed hard. "The howl… the curse… is it real?"
The elder's expression darkened. "Oh, it's real. The blood moon marks the awakening of the ancient curse. And you…" His gaze bore into her. "You carry its mark."
Elara's heart raced. "What does that mean? What happened to me?"
Elder Oren sighed heavily. "The mark is a bond, a connection to the old magic of the forest. It is both a blessing and a curse. You will feel its pull, and it will change you in ways you cannot yet comprehend."
Her hands trembled. "I don't understand. How do I get rid of it?"
"You can't," he said solemnly. "The mark is yours now. And with it comes a great responsibility."
Elara's chest tightened. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but fear and confusion held her tongue.
Corwin, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "But why her? What makes her different?"
The elder's gaze softened. "Because she is the one who will either break the curse—or succumb to it."
Silence filled the room, heavy with the weight of his words. Elara's mind raced, trying to process what she had just heard. Her life had always been simple, predictable. But now, everything had changed.
The curse was real. And she was at the heart of it.