That night, Ethan couldn't sleep.
The forest, Lyria's smile, and the strange warmth inside his chest kept returning to his thoughts. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt as if something was watching him—from deep within.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his chest.
Ethan gasped and sat up. His shirt felt hot, almost burning. When he pulled it aside, his breath stopped.
A glowing symbol had appeared on his chest.
It looked ancient—formed of thin silver lines, slowly pulsing like a living heart. The air around it trembled, and a low hum filled the room.
"What… is this?" Ethan whispered.
The pain faded, replaced by a calm but heavy presence. It felt powerful. Dangerous. As if something had finally awakened.
Outside, the village bell rang loudly.
Ethan hurried out and saw villagers gathering near the elder's house. Whispers spread quickly as the elders noticed the faint glow beneath Ethan's clothes.
One of the elders, his face pale, stepped forward.
"That mark…" he said slowly, his voice shaking. "It is the Fate Mark."
The villagers froze.
Long ago, legends spoke of warriors chosen by fate—people who carried terrifying power capable of saving or destroying kingdoms. But those stories always ended in blood.
"Marks like that bring disaster," another elder warned. "The last one nearly destroyed an entire kingdom."
Ethan clenched his fists. "I didn't choose this," he said firmly. "It appeared on its own."
Lyria stood beside him, her silver eyes dark with concern. She could feel it too—the pull of destiny tightening around Ethan.
"The mark responds to his emotions," she said quietly. "Especially when he wants to protect."
The elders exchanged uneasy glances.
"If the Empire learns of this," one elder said, "they will hunt him."
That night, as Ethan stood alone under the stars, the mark glowed softly again. Power flowed through his veins—not wild, not violent, but waiting.
Ethan looked at his hands.
"If fate wants to use me," he said softly, "then I'll decide how this power is used."
From the shadows, unseen eyes watched him.
The wheels of destiny had begun to turn.