Chapter 2: The Mark of Fate

The village of Wyndale was quiet and unassuming, tucked between misty forests and a winding river. It was the sort of place where people lived simple lives and didn’t meddle in the world beyond. And Caelum—he was considered the least of them, a young man without ambition, barely keeping up with the demands of village life.

For years, he’d been a figure of quiet ridicule, spoken of with pity by the older villagers. They’d shake their heads, muttering that he’d been left behind by life, lacking the skill or strength to be a hunter, and without the wit to be a craftsman. Those his own age would pass him by without a second glance, whispering behind his back. And Caelum, accustomed to his role, had learned to keep to himself, never stirring the waters.

But now, as he traced the strange mark on his wrist, a part of him long buried began to awaken. Was it hope? Curiosity? Or maybe the faintest ember of defiance, that dared to ask if he was more than others saw?

The night after his meeting with Maira, Caelum lay awake, staring at the ceiling as his mind churned. Her words echoed in his head: “The realms have chosen you, Caelum, and your path is no longer your own.” He wanted to dismiss it, convince himself it was just the ramblings of an old woman. But then there was the mark, stark and undeniable, and the dreams that called to him with a force that defied reason.

In the dark, his thoughts drifted back to his childhood. His father, a blacksmith, had been a hardworking, respected man, known for his craftsmanship. He’d passed when Caelum was still young, leaving a void the villagers were quick to fill with judgment. Without guidance, Caelum had drifted, never quite fitting in or finding his place. His mother, too frail to keep up the smithy, had died soon after, leaving him an orphan. He’d been raised by the village out of obligation, but never accepted as one of them.

“Worthless,” he’d heard one of the village elders mutter when he thought Caelum wasn’t listening. “Nothing to offer, not a trace of his father’s fire in him.”

The words stung, even now. But tonight, a small part of him wanted to prove them wrong.

He turned over, closing his eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep. But almost immediately, he felt himself sinking—not into rest, but into something deeper, something vast and unknown.

He found himself standing in a field beneath a sky that rippled like water, stars swirling in patterns that shifted before his eyes. He looked down to see that his feet were not touching the ground but hovering just above it. The world around him seemed almost alive, breathing in rhythm with his own heartbeat.

“Awaken, Dreambound,” the voice whispered again, as if it were coming from the air itself.

“Who’s there?” Caelum called, but his voice sounded muted, swallowed by the landscape.

A figure appeared before him, a woman with eyes as dark as the void, cloaked in robes that shimmered like stardust. She looked at him, her gaze piercing, as if seeing him not just as he was, but as something more.

“You are the one the realms have chosen,” she said, her voice carrying a weight that made him shiver.

“Chosen for what?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“To mend what has been broken. The Shattered Realm is at the brink, and only those who are Dreambound can cross the veil to restore it.”

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, feeling small and foolish.

“You will, in time,” she replied. “But first, you must prove yourself.”

The woman lifted her hand, and suddenly, Caelum’s wrist began to burn. The spiral mark glowed bright, its light cutting through the strange, rippling darkness. He clenched his teeth against the pain, falling to his knees, his vision blurring as the world around him twisted.

And then he was awake, back in his small, dimly lit cottage, the weight of the dream pressing down on him. His wrist still throbbed, and when he looked at the mark, he saw it had darkened, etched deeper into his skin.

The next day, he tried to shake off the lingering unease, going about his usual tasks in the village. But everywhere he went, he felt the stares, heard the familiar mutterings.

“Poor lad, wandering aimlessly again.”

“What good will come of him?”

“Nothing ever does.”

Their words hurt, but less than they used to. There was something else within him now—a sense that there was more to his life than what others saw.

As he carried water from the well, his path crossed with that of Galen, the village hunter, a tall, broad-shouldered man whose every movement radiated confidence. Galen looked him over, a sneer on his face.

“Still dragging your feet, Caelum?” he mocked. “I swear, even a child could carry more water than you.”

Caelum’s grip tightened on the buckets, his knuckles turning white. He felt the usual urge to shrink back, to let the taunts slide off him like water. But then, the memory of the dream resurfaced, the voice telling him to awaken, and something within him resisted.

“Perhaps,” Caelum replied quietly, “but even a child can learn to carry his own weight.”

Galen laughed, clapping a hand on Caelum’s shoulder with exaggerated pity. “Learn, he says. Caelum, some things are just in a man’s blood—or they aren’t.”

Galen’s friends joined in the laughter, and Caelum forced himself to walk away, knowing any retort would only bring more mockery. But as he moved through the village, a resolve he hadn’t felt before took root within him. He would show them. Not today, not in a single act of strength, but one day. He’d prove that he was more than they thought, even if he didn’t know how yet.

That night, as he lay down to sleep, the mark on his wrist glowed faintly, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He didn’t know what the dream had meant or how he would even begin to understand the Shattered Realm. But he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t go back to the life he’d led before. Not after this.

As he drifted into sleep, a small, determined part of him whispered a silent vow.

One day, he would find his path. And when he did, the people of Wyndale would see him as more than the drifting orphan. They would see him as someone who mattered.

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***