Dawn broke over the village of Eldermoor, casting long shadows through the narrow streets. Elias sat by the hearth, his fingers tracing the faded scar on his forearm—the mark that bound him to a destiny he never asked for. The training in the Whispering Woods had left him exhausted, but determined.
Lucan entered silently, carrying a leather-bound book heavy with age. "It's time you learn about your bloodline," he said, setting the book down.
Elias looked up, curiosity and unease swirling in his chest.
"This," Lucan began, opening the book to a yellowed page filled with ornate script and a crude family crest, "is the legacy of the seventh son. Your ancestors were hunters—wardens sworn to protect the world from darkness."
Elias frowned. "Why don't I remember any of this? Why am I just hearing about it now?"
Lucan's eyes darkened. "Because the bloodline is cursed. Every seventh son carries a shadow within—a darkness that seeks to consume their soul. That's why your family hid the truth, hoping it would die with them."
Elias felt the weight of the revelation settle heavily. "So, the mark... it's a curse?"
"More than that," Lucan replied. "It's a bond. A power you must learn to control. Your blood will grant you strength, but it will also tempt you. The line between hunter and monster is razor thin."
Suddenly, a loud knock echoed at the door. Lucan's expression hardened. "We're not alone."
Outside stood Mira—her face pale, eyes wide with fear. "They've found the village. The dark ones are coming."
Elias rose, the scar burning as if alive. The time for answers was over. Now, it was time to fight.
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