Chapter 17 – The Echo of Power

A cold wind howled through the ruins, carrying the scent of damp stone and ancient decay. Shadows stretched long across the broken marble floor, the once-pristine surface now fractured and forgotten. I stood at the heart of it all—at the threshold of something far greater than myself.

My breath came slow, controlled. The pain in my arm still burned, crimson veins pulsing with an energy that wasn't my own. My body had not yet adjusted to the mark's awakening, but there was no time to falter. The ground beneath me trembled, a deep, guttural vibration that sent dust cascading from the ruined arches overhead.

Something was coming.

I clenched my fist. Dark tendrils of energy flickered at my fingertips, coiling and dispersing like living shadows. The mark on my arm pulsed in response, whispering in a language only I could hear.

A presence stirred in the darkness beyond the ruins. My senses sharpened, instincts screaming for caution. A flicker of movement—there, just beyond the crumbling pillars.

I turned sharply.

And then—it emerged.

A figure, tall and cloaked in tattered black, stepped into the dim torchlight. Its face remained hidden beneath a hood, but its presence alone was suffocating. The air itself thickened around it, pressing down on me like an invisible weight.

"So, you have finally begun to awaken," the figure mused, its voice low and ancient, laced with amusement. "I wondered how long it would take before the mark stirred."

My muscles tensed. "Who are you?"

The figure did not answer immediately. Instead, it lifted a gloved hand, fingers tracing a pattern in the air. The movement seemed insignificant at first—until the world around me shifted.

The ruins blurred. The cold stone beneath my feet melted into nothingness, replaced by something far more sinister. The world itself bent, reshaping into a vast, empty void. I stood in the heart of an abyss, where the very air thrummed with power.

A memory not my own surged through me.

A battlefield.

A war.

Blood soaked the ground, soldiers screaming as monstrous figures tore through them with relentless ferocity. A kingdom engulfed in fire and ruin. And above it all, a throne bathed in shadows, an unseen ruler watching from the darkness.

The vision shattered, and I staggered, gasping. My head throbbed, the weight of forgotten history pressing against my skull.

The figure chuckled. "Ah. So you have glimpsed it."

I clenched my jaw. "What was that?"

"The past," the figure answered simply. "Or perhaps... a warning."

A part of me knew the truth. That vision—it was connected to my mark. To my bloodline. To the power that had been buried within me since my rebirth.

The figure took another step closer. The void around us pulsed. "You stand at the precipice of something far greater than you understand. But power does not come without cost."

A sharp, searing pain tore through my arm, the mark flaring as if in response to his words. I bit back a cry, but my legs nearly buckled. The energy was shifting again, trying to consume me.

I forced myself to remain upright, panting. "I won't be controlled by this power."

The figure tilted its head. "Controlled? No. But tamed? That is another matter."

A flick of its wrist, and suddenly, dark chains erupted from the void.

I barely had time to react. The chains coiled around my wrists and ankles, yanking me to the ground. Cold metal bit into my skin, crackling with energy that burned like fire. My mark pulsed violently, reacting against the restraint.

I gritted my teeth. This was a test.

I had no time for hesitation. Summoning every ounce of willpower, I called upon the mark.

The chains trembled. Then, with a violent burst of power, they shattered.

The air rippled from the force, and the void quaked. The figure's stance shifted ever so slightly—the first sign of surprise.

I rose to my feet, my breathing ragged, but my resolve unbroken. "If you came to test me, then you have your answer."

Silence stretched between us.

Then, the figure chuckled—a deep, knowing sound. "Interesting."

The void began to dissolve, the ruins returning piece by piece. The cold stone beneath my feet solidified once more, and the distant hum of the night filled the air.

The figure stepped back, shadows coiling around its form. "You are not yet ready. But in time, you will come to seek the truth on your own."

With that, it vanished.

I stood motionless, my heartbeat still racing. The mark on my arm had dimmed, but the sensation it left behind remained.

I exhaled slowly.

This was only the beginning.

The power buried within me was awakening. And soon, the world would come to know what that truly meant.