The strange light slowly faded, but the villagers were still frozen in fear. No one had ever seen something like this before.
Arin stood in the middle of the field, his heart beating fast. The air around him felt different, almost alive. He looked at his hands and suddenly noticed a glowing mark on his palm.
"What… is this?" he whispered.
The mark looked like a symbol made of lightning and clouds. It was shining faintly, as if it carried the power of the sky itself.
Suddenly, an old man from the village stepped forward. His name was Master Elric, the oldest and wisest man in the village.
His eyes widened when he saw the glowing symbol.
"It can't be…" he murmured.
Arin looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean?"
Master Elric took a deep breath.
"Long ago, there was a prophecy. It said that when the sky chooses its last king, a mark of the heavens will appear."
The villagers gasped.
Arin shook his head. "A king? That's impossible. I'm just a normal person."
But the mark on his hand suddenly glowed brighter.
At that moment, thunder roared across the sky.
And far away in the dark mountains, something ancient awakened.
A pair of glowing eyes opened slowly.
"The chosen one… has finally appeared."