Fate was supposed to be myth.
In Valeria, people whispered stories about the Mark – glowing symbols that appears overnight, proof you carried ancient magic. Proof you were cursed.
But no one ever believed that stories. Not really.
Until today.
I stared at my wrist, my breath shallow, heart pounding hard enough to bruise my ribs. The Mark was real.
Thin golden lined curled across my skin, glowing faintly like embers beneath the surface. They twisted into strange symbols, spiraling upward from the base of my palm to halfway up my forearm.
It shimmered — beautiful,terrifying, impossible to ignore.
Panic grew it way up my throat.
I shoved the sleeve of my hoddie down,covering the mark as if that would erase it. But the glow pulsed through the fabric faintly, impossible to hide completely.
"This isn't happening", i muttered, Pacing my tiny bedroom. The cracked mirror hanging above my bed reflected wide brown eyes, messy curls framing my face, and the pure terror etched into every line of my expression.
For seventeen years, i lived safe — hidden — following every rules to avoid attention.
But fate doesn't care about your rules.
The Queen's soldiers hunted people like me. Marked ones. They called us dangerous, cursed, enemies of the crown. But no one have ever explained what the mark truly meant — only that if you wake up with it, your life is over.
I pressed trembling fingers to the Mark, half-expecting it to burn my skin. But it was warm, humming softly beneath my touch.
I couldn't stay here.
Outside, the morning sun poured through my cracked window, casting golden streaks across my peeling walls. I could already hear distant voices — neighbors, merchants setting up stalls, soldiers patrolling the streets.
They'd find me if i waited to long.
Grabbing my bags, i stuffed in the little food i had left, a tattered map, and the locker my mother gave me before she disappeared years ago.
Maybe she was marked too. Maybe that's why she never came back.
The thought made my chest ache,but i shoved it aside.
Survival first, Question later.
I slipped out the back door,keeping my head low, hoddie pull tight across my face. The streets buzzed with life — merchants shouting, carts rattling over cobblestones, the shape scent of spices mixing with the metallic tang of fear in my mouth.
Every corner i turned to, i expected to see soldiers. The Queen's crest — a golden serpent devouring its on tail — marked their dark uniforms.
I keep moving, heart racing, sticking a narrow alley and hidden paths.
But fate have already played its game.
Near the crowd market square, i spotted her – tall, hooded, moving like a shadow slicing through the chaos.
Her cloaks was jet-black, heavy, marked with faint sliver symbols i couldn't read from here. But i didn't need to, i knew what she was.
A hunter.
Trained to track marked people like me. Trained to erase us.
I ducked behind a fruit stall,my palm sweaty, breath shallow. The mark under my sleeve pulsed again, almost... reacting to her present.
I need to run. Fast.
But before i could slip away, her eye found me.
Sliver. Cold. Sharp enough to cut glass.
Our gazes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world stopped.
She tilted her head slightly, Expression unreadable beneath the shadows of her hoods.
And then, she moved.
My leg reacted before my brain could. I spun on my heels, weaving through the crowds, pushing pass machants and carts, ignoring the curses thrown my way.
The hunter followed me. Silence, swift, her presence like a phantom at my back.
I veered down a narrow alley, lungs burning,heart pounding against my ribs. Thr marks burned hotter, like fire curling under my skin.
Just as i reached the end of the alley, a hand caught my wrist.
I spun around, ready to fight,only to freeze.
She stood inches away, her hood down now, sharp features framed by short,sliver-streaked hair. Her expression unreadable, but her grip surprisingly gentle.
And then i saw it.
Her wrist — exposed, glowing faintly beneath her sleeve.
The same Mark.
Identical to my own.
My mind stuttered. Fear twisted with confusion.
"You're..." i started, voice barely a whisper.
She nodded, eyes locked unto mine. "Marked. Just like you."
My breath caught. This didn't make sense. Hunter didn't get Marked. Hunter hunted us.
"Impossible," i choked out, heart thundering.
Her gaze softened, just a flicker, before her expression hardened again.
"Fate doesn't care what's supposed to be impossible," she whispered.
Before i could react, distance voices echoed down the streets. Soliders. Close.
The hunter's grip on my wrist tightened slightly.
"Stay with me, if you want to live". She ordered, her sliver eye burning into mine.
Everything in me screamed not to trust her.
But fate... fate had already decided.
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To be CONTINUED...
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