Dark portents

Alejandro stood at the edge of the Dark Valley, the malevolent energy of the realm seeping into his being. The valley was a place of perpetual twilight, where shadows danced with a life of their own and the air was thick with a sense of foreboding. Alejandro had regained his power, but he knew that the Dark Valley had its rules—rules he could not afford to break.

As he ventured deeper into the valley, the landscape grew increasingly eerie. The ground was uneven, littered with the remnants of ancient rituals and battles long forgotten. Strange, whispering voices echoed through the mist, speaking in languages Alejandro could barely understand. These whispers were dark portents, warnings from the spirits that inhabited this otherworldly place.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him pulsed with a dark energy, and glowing runes appeared, etched into the earth by an unseen hand. The runes formed a circle around Alejandro, trapping him momentarily as the whispers grew louder, forming coherent words in his mind.

"Balance must be kept, or power you shall lose,the voices chanted."

"Disrupt the realms, and your strength will fade."

Alejandro understood these words all too well. The power he had gained from the Dark Valley came with a condition: he must maintain a balance between the living world and this shadowy realm. Too much interference in the mortal realm would disrupt the natural order, and the spirits of the Dark Valley would strip him of his strength.

The runes pulsed again, sending a wave of energy through Alejandro. He felt his strength fluctuate, a stark reminder of the price he would pay for breaking the rules. He knew he had to tread carefully. The spirits of Dark Earth thrived on fear and chaos, but there was a delicate balance to be maintained. His actions in the living world must be measured, not reckless.

Alejandro's thoughts turned to Amelia, the child whose soul he had taken to fuel his journey. Her death had set off a chain of events in Peña de Bernal, filling the village with sorrow and fear. He relished the chaos he had caused, but he also knew that the dark portents were a warning—he could not afford to tip the scales too far.

As he continued through the valley, Alejandro came upon a dark pool of water. Its surface was unnaturally still, reflecting not the sky above but a distorted image of the living world. He saw the villagers, whispering in fear and suspicion, their lives overshadowed by the tragedy of amelia death.

The image shifted, showing a young man, Agustín Rivera, who was different from the rest. Alejandro sensed a connection—a shared history and a potential threat. Agustín's presence was a dark portent of its own, a sign that the balance could be disrupted from both sides.

Alejandro knew he had to act with caution. He could not let his newfound power be wasted, nor could he allow Agustín to thwart his plans. The dark portents were clear: the balance must be maintained, or everything he had gained would be lost.

With a final glance at the dark pool, Alejandro turned away, determined to keep the delicate balance that his power depended on. The dark portents had spoken, and he would heed their warnings.

Who is agustin?