The forest loomed vast and endless, bathed in the eerie glow of the crescent moon. Shadows danced between the towering trees as Liora stumbled forward, her breath ragged. The pendant, now clasped tightly in her trembling hands, pulsed faintly with a warmth that both comforted and unnerved her. The whispers of the wind carried an ancient song, one that resonated deep within her bones.
She had vanished into the heart of the forest after the flames devoured everything she had known. Her feet ached, her strength waning, yet she refused to stop. Liora knew—if she did, they would find her. The ones who had torn her world apart, the ones who sought the pendant's power. The same pendant her mother had entrusted to her with dying breaths.
"Run, Liora… Never let them take it..."
The words haunted her, fueling her desperate flight. But even as she fled, uncertainty gnawed at her. What was so precious about this pendant that entire kingdoms burned for it?
A snap of a twig made her halt.
Her breath caught. Silence fell like a suffocating veil.
Someone was there.
Liora's fingers curled around the pendant, pressing it against her chest as she slowly turned.
A figure stood between the trees, barely illuminated by the slivers of moonlight piercing through the branches. A man—tall, cloaked in dark armor that spoke of countless battles. His long and pale silver hair, streaked with the faintest hints of moonlight, cascaded around his sharp features. His golden eyes, gleaming like molten metal, locked onto hers with an intensity that made her skin prickle. His battle-hardened aura radiated off him, and despite his rigid form, there was an unmistakable presence that spoke of a warrior shaped by wars long past.
His armor gave off a regal yet ominous feel—like a fallen prince or a warrior of an ancient order. The air around him felt heavy, as if the weight of countless battles lingered in every movement.
Liora's breath hitched. Something about him felt... different. Dangerous, but not in the way her pursuers were. His gaze wasn't filled with greed or malice. It was something else. Recognition.
"That pendant..." His voice, deep and weathered, barely rose above the rustling leaves.
Liora took a step back, clutching it tighter. "Who are you?"
The man didn't answer immediately. He stepped closer, the moonlight revealing more of his face. Shadows carved hollows into his cheeks, and yet, his expression was carved from stone—solemn, burdened.
"You shouldn't be carrying that," he murmured. "It makes you a target."
Liora's heart pounded. "I don't have a choice."
The man studied her for a long moment before exhaling sharply. He lowered his gaze to the pendant, his brows furrowing in something akin to pain. "Do you even know what that is?"
She hesitated, her mother's last words echoing in her mind. "Only that it's important. That I need to protect it."
The warrior scoffed, though there was no humor in it. "Important? That's an understatement. That pendant is the last surviving key to the fallen kingdom of Eldoria. The same kingdom that was betrayed and slaughtered." His voice was laced with something heavy—something bitter. "And now, it's in your hands."
Liora's eyes widened. She had suspected it held meaning, but to be tied to a fallen kingdom? To war and bloodshed? She shook her head. "Then why do you care? Why are you here?"
The warrior's gaze darkened. "Because that pendant is a death sentence. And you're already marked."
A sudden rustling in the distance sent Liora's body into alertness. The warrior's posture shifted immediately, his hand hovering over the worn hilt of his blade. He turned toward the noise, sharp eyes scanning the darkness.
"They're here," he muttered.
Fear clawed at Liora's throat. She had been running all night, but it hadn't been enough. They had found her again.
The warrior glanced at her, then at the pendant, his jaw tightening. Whatever turmoil had stirred in his eyes a moment ago vanished, replaced by cold determination. "If you want to survive, you follow me. Now."
Liora hesitated, uncertainty warring within her. But when another crack of twigs echoed, closer this time, the decision was made for her.
She nodded. And just like that, their fates intertwined.
Without another word, the warrior turned, moving through the shadows like a phantom. Liora followed, her grip on the pendant never loosening. She didn't know this man—this lone warrior who had appeared in the dark—but he knew the pendant's secrets. He knew what it meant.
And for now, that was enough.