Darion ran through the storm, his breath coming in ragged gasps as rain pelted his face. The hooded stranger moved effortlessly beside him, their steps quick and deliberate.
Behind them, the Shadow King's soldiers gave chase, their torches bobbing in the darkness like fiery specters.
"We can't outrun them for long," the stranger said, voice barely audible over the howling wind. "Follow me!"
They veered off the main path, plunging into the dense underbrush of the forest.
Branches whipped against Darion's arms as they navigated the tangled terrain, but the stranger moved with practiced ease, guiding him deeper into the trees.
The sounds of pursuit grew fainter, but Darion knew they were far from safe.
Finally, the stranger pulled him into the hollow of a fallen tree. "We wait here," they murmured, eyes scanning the darkness. "If we're lucky, they'll lose our trail."
Darion tried to steady his breathing, his fingers still wrapped tightly around the sword's hilt. The blade felt like an extension of himself now, a part of him that had always been missing.
He turned to the stranger. "Who are you?"
The figure pushed back their hood, revealing a sharp-featured woman with dark eyes that burned with intensity. "My name is Selene," she said. "And if you want to live, you'll listen carefully."
Darion swallowed hard, nodding. He had no reason to trust her, but she had saved his life. That was enough for now.
Selene peered out from their hiding place, her gaze trained on the distant flicker of torches through the trees. "They won't stop looking for you," she muttered.
"The Shadow King has waited too long for this moment. Now that the sword has awakened, he'll do everything in his power to take it."
Darion felt a chill run down his spine. "Why?"
Selene's eyes flicked to the blade. "Because it's the only thing that can kill him."
A gust of wind howled through the trees, rattling the branches above them. The torches in the distance seemed to be fading, the soldiers searching blindly in the wrong direction.
Selene exhaled, her posture relaxing slightly. "We need to move. There's a safe house not far from here."
Darion hesitated, glancing back toward Greymoor. He had lived there his whole life, but after tonight, he knew he could never go back.
The soldiers would tear the village apart looking for him.
He turned back to Selene. "Lead the way."
They moved through the woods like shadows, keeping low to avoid detection. The rain began to ease, though thunder still rumbled in the distance.
Darion followed Selene closely, his mind spinning with unanswered questions. Who was the Shadow King? Why did he want the blade so desperately? And why had the sword chosen him?
After what felt like hours, they emerged into a small clearing. A modest stone cottage stood nestled against the base of a rocky hill, smoke rising faintly from its chimney.
Selene approached the door and knocked in a distinct pattern—three quick taps, followed by two slow ones.
A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing an older man with streaks of silver in his dark hair. His sharp eyes scanned them before settling on Darion.
"So," he said, stepping aside to let them in. "It has begun."
Darion entered hesitantly, glancing around the dimly lit room. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls lined with books and weapons. The air smelled of aged parchment and herbs.
Selene shut the door behind them. "Darion, this is Theron. He's with the rebellion."
"The rebellion?" Darion echoed, looking between them. "Against the Shadow King?"
Theron nodded, his gaze steady. "You have no idea what you've stumbled into, boy." He gestured to a wooden chair. "Sit. There's much to explain."
Darion lowered himself onto the chair, gripping the sword tightly. He had spent his whole life searching for a purpose, a place where he truly belonged.
Now, as he looked at the two strangers before him, he had the unsettling feeling that he had just found it.
And that his life would never be the same again.