Nara froze. Something moved in the shadows ahead—silent but heavy, like the weight of the storm itself pressing down on the forest. Her pulse quickened, and her breath hitched as she scanned the darkness. The wine-dark trees loomed tall and foreboding, their ancient limbs swaying under the storm’s brewing fury. The metallic tang of rain hung in the air, mingling with something sharper, more primal.


    The first rumble of thunder rolled across the sky, distant but insistent. Nara pulled her shawl tighter, the damp chill of the wind pressing against her skin. She tried to tell herself that the unease gnawing at her wasn’t real—that it was just her imagination running wild. But deep down, she knew better.


    This wasn’t just a storm. Something was wrong.


    Her mother had called it storm magic when she was younger, a playful name for the strange energy that filled the air before the clouds broke open. But this... this was different. There was a heaviness to the night, a suffocating weight that seemed to press against her chest and squeeze the breath from her lungs.


    The forest, which had always been her refuge, now felt alien. The winding paths she knew so well twisted like unfamiliar labyrinths in the shifting light. Verdun, the sleepy village she called home, felt a world away. For seventeen years, its simplicity had shielded her from the chaos of the kingdoms beyond. She had spent her days gathering wildflowers, helping her mother bake honey cakes, and trying—unsuccessfully—to ignore the whispers about her origins.


    Daughter of the Ancients.


    The words clung to her memory like cobwebs. She didn’t understand them, but they haunted her all the same. Strangers passing through Verdun sometimes stopped and stared, their eyes wide with awe or fear. And when she wandered the forest alone, she could feel it—the strange, thrumming energy that pulsed beneath the surface, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath.


    Her mother had always dismissed the whispers, calling them superstitions from a bygone age. Nara wanted to believe her. But tonight, with the wind howling through the trees and her nerves stretched taut as a bowstring, those doubts felt like a fragile dam about to break.


    A crack of thunder split the sky, and a flash of lightning illuminated the figure of a man standing at the edge of the trees.


    Nara’s heart leapt into her throat. He was tall and cloaked in shadow, his face hidden beneath a hood. For a fleeting moment, she thought he might be a trick of the stormlight. But then he moved—stepping forward, his boots crunching softly against the damp earth—and her breath caught.


    “Who’s there?” she called, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to steady it. She clenched her fists at her sides, grounding herself in the feel of the cool air biting against her skin.


    The man didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing wind-tousled black hair and pale, angular features. His eyes caught the faint light filtering through the storm clouds, glinting like steel. He couldn’t have been much older than her, but there was something about him—an intensity in his gaze, a sharpness in his posture—that made him seem far older.


    “I don’t mean you harm,” he said, his voice low but clear, cutting through the wind’s rising wail. There was an urgency in his tone that made her stomach twist. “But we don’t have much time.”


    Nara took a step back, her heart hammering. “I don’t know you,” she said. “And I don’t trust anyone who shows up uninvited in the middle of the forest. Start explaining.”


    The man’s gaze flicked toward the sky, his expression tightening as the thunder rumbled again. Then he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, as though trying not to startle her. “My name is Elden,” he said. “And I know who you are, Nara. Daughter of the Ancients. Vessel of the Guardian’s bloodline.”


    The words struck her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs. She stumbled back, shaking her head. “No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. “You’ve got the wrong person. I’m just a girl from Verdun. Nothing more.”This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    Elden’s gaze didn’t waver. “You can deny it if you want,” he said. “But the truth remains. The storm isn’t the only thing stirring tonight. They’re coming, Nara. And they’re coming for you.”


    “Who?” she demanded, her voice rising in pitch.


    As if in answer, a low, guttural roar echoed through the forest. The sound was deep and primal, vibrating through the ground like a predator’s growl.


    Elden’s jaw tightened. “They’ve found us.” He reached for her hand, his grip firm but not painful. “We need to move. Now.”


    Nara yanked her hand free, anger flaring despite the fear coiling in her gut. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she snapped. “You show up out of nowhere, spouting nonsense about bloodlines and Guardians, and now you want me to follow you? Do I look like an idiot?”


    Elden opened his mouth to respond, but another roar—closer this time—cut him off. The ground trembled beneath their feet, and the trees around them seemed to shudder in unison, their branches groaning under the weight of some unseen force.


    “You don’t have to trust me,” Elden said sharply. “But if you want to live, you’ll come with me.”


    His words silenced her protests, though her instincts screamed at her to run in the opposite direction. But the weight in the air—the certainty that something monstrous was closing in—left her with no choice. She nodded.


    Elden didn’t wait for further confirmation. He grabbed her hand again, and this time she let him. Together, they plunged deeper into the forest, the wind howling around them as the sound of heavy footsteps crashed through the underbrush behind them.


    “What is it?” Nara asked breathlessly, struggling to keep up with his long strides.


    “A shadow beast,” Elden said. “One of many. They serve the darkness, and they won’t stop until they have what they’re after.”


    “And what’s that?”


    “You.”


    The word hit her like a slap, but there was no time to process it. The forest around them blurred into a haze of black and gray, the trees pressing closer, their branches clawing at her clothes as if trying to hold her back.


    Suddenly, they burst into a small clearing bathed in faint moonlight. Elden skidded to a halt, his eyes scanning the area. The roar came again, impossibly loud, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.


    Nara turned, her chest heaving, just as the creature emerged from the shadows.


    It moved like a living nightmare, its body a churning mass of smoke and sinew. Frost spread across the grass where its claws scraped the earth, and its ember-like eyes burned with an intelligence that made her blood run cold.


    “Run!” Elden shouted, snapping her out of her paralysis.


    They bolted for the far side of the clearing, the beast’s snarls chasing them like a physical force. Nara’s legs burned, her lungs screaming for air, but she didn’t dare slow down.


    Finally, Elden skidded to a stop in front of a cave entrance hidden behind a curtain of ivy. “Inside!” he urged, shoving her forward.


    They scrambled into the darkness, the cool air wrapping around them like a shroud. Elden turned, his silhouette stark against the faint light filtering through the ivy. “It won’t stop,” he said grimly. “Unless you stop it.”


    “What are you talking about?” Nara demanded, her voice shaking.


    “You have power, Nara,” Elden said. He pulled a wooden charm from his cloak, the surface etched with strange, glowing symbols. “This will help you connect to the Weave. Focus on it. Trust it.”


    The beast roared, its massive form appearing at the mouth of the cave.


    “I can’t—”


    “Yes, you can!” Elden shouted. “You’re a Guardian, Nara. You were born for this.”


    The words ignited something deep within her—a spark of defiance, of power she had long denied. She took the charm, her fingers trembling, and closed her eyes.


    The Weave whispered to her, faint at first but growing stronger with every breath. It felt like a song, chaotic yet familiar, threading its way through her very being.


    When she opened her eyes, flames danced at her fingertips, illuminating the cave in brilliant, golden light.


    The beast lunged.


    Nara thrust her hand forward, releasing the fire in a blazing arc. The light struck the creature, and it howled in pain, its form unraveling into wisps of shadow before vanishing entirely.


    Silence fell, broken only by the sound of Nara’s ragged breathing.


    “You did it,” Elden said softly, awe in his voice.


    Nara stared at her hands, the flames fading but the warmth lingering. She was a Guardian. Whether she wanted to be or not.


    And the darkness had no idea what it had awakened.