ENCHANTED

CHAPTER 2- THE MARK OF MAGIC

Alora stumbled backward as the symbol on her palm flared brighter.

The crescent-shaped mark pulsed with light, sending warmth up her arm and into her chest. It didn’t burn—it hummed, like it was alive.

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

The trees around her shimmered. Their bark glowed faintly with silver veins, and the leaves rustled though the air remained still.

From between the trees stepped a figure cloaked in moss-green fabric. His hair was white as winter frost, though his face looked young. His eyes glowed the same silver as the forest light.

“You were hidden for your protection,” he said calmly. “But the veil is weakening. The Enchanted bloodline cannot remain dormant any longer.”

“Enchanted bloodline?” Alora’s breath trembled.

The stranger knelt before her—not in weakness, but in respect.

“You carry the ancient magic of Eldoria. Your ancestors once guarded the balance between realms—human and mystical. When darkness rose a generation ago, your parents hid you here.”

“My parents?” she whispered. “They died when I was little.”

A shadow flickered in his eyes.

“That is what you were told.”

Before she could speak again, the ground shook violently. A deep roar echoed through the forest. Birds burst from the trees in panic.

The stranger’s expression hardened.

“They have found you.”

“Who?”

He stood swiftly. “The Obsidian Court.”

From the far end of the forest, black mist slithered like living smoke.

Alora’s mark flared again.

“Run,” he commanded.

But something inside her refused.

Instead of fear, she felt power.

And for the first time in her life, Alora raised her glowing hand—ready to fight.