Chapter 9 – The Elders' Prophecy
The elven village lay in uneasy silence that night. The corpse of the Dire Wolf still rested in the village square, a grim reminder of what had transpired. Yet for the elders, it was more than a beast slain. It was a sign.
Elder Elrond stood before the fallen monster, his staff trembling faintly in his hand. "This is no coincidence. The old prophecy... has begun to awaken."
The villagers turned their eyes toward the golden-haired boy standing beside his mother. Valdyn's small hands still shook, but his emerald eyes burned with questions. He didn't yet fully understand—but the way the elves looked at him, with both fear and hope, made his heart pound.
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"It is time," one elder woman said, her voice heavy with age. "We must seek guidance from the remnants of the World Tree. Only the spirits of our ancestors can confirm what we now fear—and hope."
And so, that night, the elders resolved to perform a sacred ritual—a rite long abandoned since the fall of the World Tree eighty years ago.
Queen Serenea leaned close to her son. "Stay near me, Valdyn. Whatever happens, do not stray from my side."
Valdyn nodded, though within himself a whisper echoed: I must know the truth. What is it they are hiding from me?
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They traveled deep into the forest, to a sacred grove where the roots of the once-mighty World Tree still lay. What remained was twisted and charred, massive roots cracked and petrified, yet faintly glowing with a green light that refused to fade.
Beneath the moonlight, the elders formed a circle. They planted their staffs into the earth, lit incense made from rare herbs, and began to chant in the ancient tongue.
The air trembled. The leaves shivered though no wind blew. A green radiance pulsed from the roots, illuminating the grove with eerie beauty.
Valdyn's eyes widened. This is beyond mere magic... this is the echo of a god that once lived within this tree.
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The glow intensified, and within the circle a figure appeared—a spectral elf draped in white, face obscured, voice echoing with timeless weight.
"Hear me, heirs of Thalorian blood..."
The elders fell to their knees as the voice rolled through the grove.
"When the world falls into ruin, a child of golden hair shall be born. From his hands, the nearly extinct elves shall rise again. He shall be light... and shadow... the one to decide the fate of the world."
The vision flickered, then vanished. The roots dimmed, leaving only the blackened husk of what once had been the elves' lifeline.
Elder Elrond whispered, voice trembling, "The prophecy... it is clear. That child... is Valdyn."
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Valdyn had not heard everything, but enough. A golden-haired child... who will rebuild the elven race...
His small fists clenched. So this is why they all look at me with such hope... because the ancestors themselves have named me their savior.
"Valdyn," Queen Serenea said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Do not rush. You are still a child."
But Valdyn's emerald eyes burned as he stared at the roots of the World Tree. No... I cannot hide behind that excuse. If destiny has chosen me, then I must be ready.
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The System stirred faintly within his mind.
[DING!!]
> Main Quest Updated:
"Revive the Elven Race" – Condition Locked until Adulthood.
Valdyn's breath steadied. His young voice whispered within his heart: I will not run. If my destiny is to be the light of my people, then I will lead them to glory—no matter the cost.
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Beneath the withered roots of the World Tree, a boy with golden hair stood with eyes aflame.
The prophecy had been spoken.
The future of the elves was bound to him.
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