News of Kaelen's Origin Brand spread through the Ashroad Tribe faster than wildfire in dry grass. By dawn, the village buzzed with whispers—some in awe, some in fear. To bear a fragment of the ancient Code was rare; to awaken it without training was almost unheard of.
Kaelen, Mira, and Flint had barely returned from the ruins, their clothes dust-streaked and damp, when a hush fell over the central gathering circle.
From the tree line, a figure emerged. Cloaked in deep black robes embroidered with silver threads, the stranger moved with a grace that seemed unnatural, the hem of the cloak never brushing the ground despite the uneven dirt. A hood shadowed their face, but the eyes—sharp and calculating—gleamed from within.
The crowd parted instinctively. Even the elders stiffened.
"I am Lysander of the Whispering Agency," the figure said, voice soft but precise. "I seek the one who carries the Origin Brand."
Kaelen stepped forward, spear at his side. Flint trotted after him, trying and failing to look nonchalant.
"Uh… that'd be me," Kaelen said cautiously. "And who wants to know?"
"The Agency observes those marked by ancient Codes," Lysander replied, voice calm as a knife. "You are young, but the Road has chosen you. You will need guidance if you hope to survive what approaches. The Cult of Broken Stars moves even now, seeking fragments like yours. You cannot walk the Golden Road alone."
Mira's hand brushed Kaelen's arm. "Do not trust them blindly," she warned. "The Agency is… selective in what they reveal, and not all they seek to teach is for your good."
The elders murmured amongst themselves. Elder Hasrok stepped forward.
"Kaelen is still untested. He will remain under our protection until the tribe sees him ready for broader challenges," he declared.
Flint, never one to hold back, piped up loudly.
"Oh sure, keep him caged in the valley! That'll really prepare him for cosmic battles and magical cults, yeah? Real wise, elders!"
A few of the younger warriors stifled chuckles. Mira sighed, stepping forward to smooth the tension. "We are grateful for your concern, Lysander. But Kaelen must grow within the Ashroad first. He will seek you… when the time is right."
Lysander inclined their head slightly, the hood shadowed face revealing only the faintest smirk. As they turned to leave, they lowered their voice to Kaelen alone:
"The Golden Road is not walked alone. Seek us when you are ready… before the Cult of Broken Stars finds you first."
Kaelen's stomach tightened. He glanced at Flint, who was still chewing nervously on a root.
"So… secret cults, shadowy agencies, cosmic wars… and I'm just supposed to, what, practice spear swings in the valley for now?"
Mira didn't answer. She only nodded toward the distant hills. Something in her gaze suggested she had already walked part of the path Kaelen would soon face.
The Agency figure disappeared into the mist as silently as they had arrived. The village slowly returned to its routine, but Kaelen could feel the weight of unseen eyes pressing in from all directions. The ember inside him pulsed stronger, as if it, too, understood the danger now waiting beyond the valley.
Kaelen clenched his fists, the glowing Origin Brand searing warmth into his skin. Flint leaned over, whispering nervously:
"Congratulations. You're officially a target for secret societies and probably murder cults. Wanna grab lunch before everything goes sideways?"
Kaelen allowed a small, grim smile. "Yeah… but first, I need to figure out how not to die."
The Golden Road, it seemed, had just begun to extend its path beyond Ashroad.