Chapter 3: Shadows of the Past

– A City of Lies

Elias walked beside Dain through the darkened streets of Draeven, his mind replaying the events of the night. The scent of damp earth clung to the air, mixing with the distant aroma of burnt wood and spilled ale.

He had seen desperation before, back in his own world. But here, it felt different—more primal, more brutal.

And then there was Dain.

The man carried himself with an easy confidence, the kind that came with experience. He was testing Elias, watching him, trying to figure out if the Forsaken mark made him useful or dangerous.

Probably both.

As they neared the town center, Dain spoke. "You've got instincts. That's good. But instincts only take you so far."

Elias glanced at him. "And where exactly do you think I need to go?"

Dain smirked. "That depends. Do you want to survive this world, or do you want to own it?"

Elias didn't answer immediately.

Survival had always been his first instinct, ever since the moment he woke up in this unfamiliar land. But the more he saw, the more he realized—this world wasn't just dangerous. It was broken.

And broken worlds had a way of turning people into monsters.

For now, he needed knowledge. Power. A reason to exist beyond being another cursed name in history.

"I'll decide when I know what I'm up against," Elias said.

Dain chuckled. "Smart man."

They turned a corner, and Elias noticed something strange—two figures in dark cloaks watching from a rooftop.

He didn't react, but his muscles tensed. He had been watched before.

And he didn't like it.

"Who are they?" he asked.

Dain's expression barely shifted. "The Black Hounds. Mercenaries, spies, sometimes assassins. Depends on who pays them."

Elias frowned. "And who's paying them to watch us?"

Dain's smirk widened. "That's the real question, isn't it?"

Elias felt a cold weight settle in his chest.

He had been in this world for barely a day, and already, someone was watching him.

Someone who knew what he was.

---

2 – The Scholar's Warning

The Broken Hart was quieter when they returned, the last of the patrons finishing their drinks. Dain nodded to the bartender before leading Elias upstairs to a private room.

Inside, a woman sat waiting.

She was older—perhaps in her forties—her dark hair streaked with gray, her eyes sharp with knowledge. Her robes were simple but well-kept, the kind worn by scholars or those who dealt in secrets.

She looked at Elias, and he saw no fear in her gaze.

Only curiosity.

"This is Liora," Dain said, leaning against the wall. "She's a historian. Knows more about that mark on your chest than most."

Elias studied her. "You know what I am?"

Liora tilted her head. "I know what you might become."

Elias narrowed his eyes. "And what's that?"

She exhaled. "The last Forsaken nearly burned this continent to the ground."

Silence stretched between them.

Elias let the words sink in.

He had seen glimpses of destruction when he first arrived. Had those been visions of his own future? Or echoes of the past?

"How?" he asked.

Liora folded her hands. "The Forsaken don't just wield power—they attract it. Madness, war, destruction… it follows them like a storm."

Elias clenched his fists. "I'm not a puppet for fate."

Liora smiled faintly. "Neither were the others. At first."

Elias exhaled sharply. He had spent his life shaping his own destiny. He refused to believe this world would dictate his future.

But deep down, something in him whispered otherwise.

"What causes it?" he asked.

Liora hesitated. Then, quietly, she said, "The mark itself. It's not just a curse. It's a door."

Elias stiffened. "A door to what?"

Liora met his gaze.

"To something that wants to break this world apart."

---

3 – A Glimpse of Power

Elias barely slept that night.

He sat by the window of his rented room, staring at the flickering lights of Draeven, his thoughts restless.

The Forsaken attract power.

The words haunted him.

Did that mean he was doomed to become a monster? That no matter what he did, the world would push him toward destruction?

His hand drifted to the mark on his chest.

Then, suddenly—

Pain.

A searing, unnatural heat surged through his body, like molten fire coursing through his veins.

His vision blurred. Shadows curled at the edges of the room, twisting, shifting—whispers filling the air, voices he didn't recognize.

And then—

A presence.

Something vast and ancient pressed against his mind.

He is awake.

Elias gasped, his breath sharp and ragged. He staggered back, gripping the windowsill, the world spinning around him.

Then, as suddenly as it came, the pain vanished.

Silence.

Elias stood there, his heart hammering.

He had felt something—a power, a will that wasn't his own.

And for a brief, terrifying moment…

He had wanted to let it in.

---

4 – The Road Ahead

Morning came, but Elias felt no peace.

He sat across from Dain and Liora, his expression unreadable.

"I need to know everything about the Forsaken," he said.

Liora studied him. "Why?"

Elias exhaled. "Because if something wants to use me to break this world… I need to know how to stop it."

Dain chuckled. "Good luck with that."

Liora, however, nodded. "Then you'll need to leave Draeven."

Elias frowned. "Where?"

She placed a worn map on the table, her finger tracing a path north.

"To the ruins of Veyrith. The last place the Forsaken made their stand."

Elias studied the map.

A path was forming.

One that would lead him to the truth.

One that might cost him everything.

But he had already made his choice.

"I leave at dawn," he said.

Dain smirked. "Then it looks like you've got a journey ahead."

Elias nodded.

He didn't know what awaited him in Veyrith.

But he knew one thing for certain.

If the world wanted him to burn…

He would make damn sure he chose the fire.