The night the curse awakened, the sky split open.
A violent storm roared across Eldoria, tearing through the trees like a beast searching for prey. The wind howled with a voice that did not belong to nature, and the moon—usually soft and silver—bled into a deep, unsettling red.
Elara ran barefoot across the forest floor, her heart pounding so hard it felt as if it would burst. Rain soaked her hair and clung to her skin, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.
"Arin!"
Her voice was swallowed by thunder.
Ahead, the lake glowed with a strange, shimmering darkness, as if something beneath the surface was waking after centuries of sleep,and Arin stood at the of it.
Or rather—what was left of him.
The gentle, kind man she loved so fiercely now knelt in the water, clutching his arm as black veins spread rapidly across his skin. His breath came in broken gasps. His eyes, once warm gold, flickered wildly between light and shadow.
"Elara… don't come closer!" he shouted, but his voice was strained, terrified.
She ignored him, stumbling toward him through the rising wind.
"Arin, look at me! What's happening to you?"
The lake answered for him.
A surge of shadow exploded upward, swirling around Arin like living smoke. His body convulsed violently. He screamed—not in pain, but in something far worse:
Fear.
Loss.
Recognition.
"Elara… it's the curse…"
His voice broke.
"It found me."
Lightning cracked the sky, illuminating his face—a face twisted with pain, love, and helplessness.
She dropped to her knees beside him, grabbing his shaking hands.
"I'm not leaving you," she whispered fiercely. "Whatever this is, we face it together."
His grip tightened, desperate.
"Elara… I saw it," he whispered through tears. "In my dreams. I saw you dying. I saw me losing you."
"You won't," she cried. "You won't lose me!"
But the lake disagreed.
A low rumble vibrated through the ground as a dark sigil flared to life on Arin's arm, glowing like a brand burned into his soul. The shadows wrapped tighter, lifting him slightly off the water.
"Elara… please…"
His voice trembled.
"Run."
She pressed her forehead to his, both of them shaking.
"No," she sobbed. "I stay."
The shadows surged, brighter, darker, hungrier.
The seventh moon burned crimson overhead.
And in that terrifying moment—
their fate sealed itself.
Two souls bound by love.
Two bloodlines bound by ancient magic.
Two hearts standing at the edge of something far greater than either of them understood.
As the storm swallowed the night—
the curse finally chose them.