The village of Eldren Hollow awakens under a gray, reluctant sun. A cold drizzle blurs the edges of the crooked houses, and the usual chatter of the market is muted, subdued as if the weather itself senses the unease threading through the town.
Kael walks with purpose now, staff in hand, his cloak drawn tight against the damp chill. The morning air feels heavier, loaded with unspoken warnings.
As he passes the village square, an old man catches his eye—one of the few who still remembers the fire and the shadows it left behind. The man's gaze lingers on Kael, sharp and calculating, a flicker of recognition burning beneath his weathered skin.
Kael nods respectfully, but the weight of eyes following him prickles like thorns.
He's not just any boy. The Mark of the Hidden sets him apart, a beacon to those who watch from the shadows.
Back in his small room, Kael pours over the scroll Lyra had given him, the ancient runes swirling in a language both foreign and strangely familiar. The Words of Binding—secrets to hold the door shut, to keep the darkness contained.
His fingers trace the symbols, a faint hum vibrating beneath his touch. He feels the pull again—the door's whisper seeping through the walls, a dark promise or a desperate plea.
That night, sleep evades him. Instead, visions come—fragmented memories not his own, flashes of a man cloaked in shadow, standing before a great gate that shimmered like the surface of a shattered mirror.
"Kael," a voice whispers through the dark. "Remember."
He jolts upright, breath ragged, heart pounding.
A soft knock at the door startles him.
Lyra steps inside, her face etched with concern.
"You're pushing too hard," she says softly. "The power inside you is not just a tool—it's a part of you. If you reject it, it will consume you."
Kael shakes his head. "I need to know. Who was that man? The Keeper?"
Lyra sits beside him, eyes distant.
"He was the last guardian before you, bound to the door by ancient magic. But the darkness corrupted him, twisted his mind until he became the very thing he was sworn to fight."
Kael's stomach tightens. "Can I fail like that?"
"No," Lyra replies, voice fierce. "Because you carry hope, and the strength to fight even when all seems lost."
Outside, the wind howls, rattling the windows like the breath of the door itself.
Kael clenches his fists, ready to face whatever shadows the night may bring.