The forest was alive with secrets. As the sun crept higher into the sky, casting shards of light through the dense canopy, Elara could still feel the weight of Elder Oren's words pressing against her chest.
You carry the mark now. It's both a blessing and a curse.
His cryptic warning echoed in her mind as she trudged back through the village with Corwin at her side. The elder hadn't explained how or why she had been marked, only that it was irrevocable and bound her to a fate she couldn't yet comprehend.
She clenched her fists, frustration bubbling beneath her skin. How was she supposed to accept something she didn't even understand? Her life had been simple, predictable—until now.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" Corwin's voice broke through her thoughts.
Elara glanced at him. His brow was furrowed, his blue eyes filled with concern.
"I don't know if I can," she admitted. "It's… complicated."
Corwin scoffed. "Complicated? Elara, you vanished into the woods, came back looking like you'd been dragged through a thorn bush, and now the elder is talking about marks and curses. That's more than complicated—it's dangerous."
She bit her lip, torn between wanting to confide in him and the gnawing instinct to keep the truth hidden. "I just need time to figure things out."
Corwin's jaw tightened, but he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But you're not doing this alone. Whatever's going on, I'm with you."
A flicker of warmth touched her chest despite the chaos swirling in her mind. Corwin had always been stubborn, but his loyalty was unwavering.
"Thanks," she said softly.
They walked in silence for a while, the village bustling around them as merchants called out their wares and children chased each other through the streets. But even amidst the normalcy, there was an undercurrent of unease. Villagers cast wary glances toward the forest, their faces lined with worry. The howl from the previous night had left its mark on everyone.
As they passed the blacksmith's forge, Elara caught sight of a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall—Jorah, one of the village hunters. His rugged face was set in a grim expression, and a deep gash ran along his forearm, hastily wrapped in a blood-stained cloth.
"Jorah!" Elara called out, hurrying over to him. "What happened?"
The hunter's eyes flicked to her, and for a moment, he looked as though he might brush her off. But then he sighed heavily.
"Wolf attack," he said gruffly. "Out near the eastern ridge."
Elara's heart skipped a beat. "A wolf? During the day?"
Jorah nodded. "Never seen anything like it. The beast was massive—bigger than any wolf I've hunted before. And smart, too. It led us into a trap."
"A trap?" Corwin echoed, disbelief evident in his voice.
The hunter's lips pressed into a thin line. "Aye. We lost two men."
Elara's stomach churned. Wolves were dangerous, but they didn't hunt during the day, and they certainly didn't set traps.
"Did you kill it?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Jorah shook his head. "It got away. But it's still out there." His gaze hardened. "And mark my words—it's not a normal wolf. There's something wrong with that beast."
Elara's breath caught in her throat. She thought of the stranger in the woods, his silver eyes glinting in the moonlight. Was he connected to this?
"We need to tell the elder," Corwin said urgently.
Jorah snorted. "The elder's riddles won't do us any good. We need action. The men are already planning a hunt tonight."
Elara's heart raced. "That's a mistake. If it's not a normal wolf, you're putting everyone in danger."
The hunter's eyes narrowed. "And what would you suggest? Sit back and let it pick us off one by one?"
She opened her mouth to argue, but Corwin placed a hand on her arm, pulling her aside.
"Elara, we need to be smart about this," he whispered. "If they're going after that thing, we have to be there too."
Her eyes widened. "You can't be serious."
"Think about it," he insisted. "If you really are… marked, or whatever the elder said, then you might be the only one who can stop it. We can't let them go in blind."
Elara's pulse quickened. The thought of facing that creature again made her skin crawl, but Corwin was right. She couldn't stand by and let more people die.
"Fine," she said reluctantly. "But we need a plan."
That evening, the village was tense with anticipation. The hunters gathered near the edge of the forest, their weapons gleaming in the fading light. Jorah stood at the front, his expression grim as he addressed the group.
"We move fast and stay together," he instructed. "No one wanders off. If you see the beast, call out. We'll take it down together."
Elara and Corwin lingered at the back of the group, their presence unnoticed amidst the hardened men. Elara's heart raced as they entered the forest, the familiar path quickly swallowed by shadows. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, and the fading light cast eerie patterns across the trees.
As they ventured deeper, the sounds of the village faded away, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl. The hunters moved silently, their breaths shallow as they scanned the darkness for any sign of the beast.
Elara's senses were on high alert. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig made her skin prickle. The mark on her chest throbbed faintly, as though responding to the presence of something unseen.
Suddenly, a low growl rumbled through the trees, sending a chill down her spine. The hunters froze, their weapons raised.
"It's here," Jorah whispered.
The growl grew louder, echoing through the forest like thunder. The trees seemed to tremble in its wake, and the shadows deepened.
Elara's breath quickened. She could feel it now—the presence of something ancient and powerful. Her heart raced as she scanned the darkness, searching for the source of the sound.
Then, out of the shadows, the beast emerged.
It was massive, its fur black as night and its eyes gleaming with a savage light. Its fangs glinted in the faint moonlight, and its claws tore into the earth with each step.
The hunters faltered, their confidence wavering in the face of the creature's sheer ferocity.
"Hold your ground!" Jorah shouted, his voice shaking.
The beast roared, a sound that shook the very trees, and then it charged.
Elara's body moved before her mind could catch up. She grabbed Corwin's arm and pulled him to the side just as the beast lunged, its claws tearing through the air where they had just stood.
"Run!" she screamed.
The forest erupted into chaos as the hunters scattered, their shouts mingling with the beast's deafening roars. Elara's heart pounded as she sprinted through the trees, Corwin at her side. The mark on her chest burned fiercely, urging her forward.
But even as fear gripped her, a strange sensation washed over her—something primal and ancient stirring within her blood.
And for the first time, Elara wondered if the curse wasn't just a burden… but a power waiting to be unleashed.