The sky was strange that morning quiet, but heavy, like it was holding its breath. Clouds hung low above the treetops, unmoving and sullen, as if the heavens themselves were reluctant to look down on the world below.
Elwyn Village, nestled at the edge of the silverwood forest, was unusually still. The birds had stopped singing. The breeze carried no scent of pine. People walked the narrow dirt paths in silence, their heads low, eyes quick to look away when they passed a certain boy with black hair and eyes like gathering storms.
Eren.
He was seventeen, tall for his age, though he never stood tall. His shoulders curled inward, as if weighed down by something no one else could see. A leather strap bound his right wrist, hiding what glowed faintly beneath an unnatural light that pulsed softly when no one was watching.
He had always been different. The villagers whispered as much, though never to his face. Some said he was cursed. Others believed he was born during a blood moon and marked by spirits. Only one person ever met his gaze without fear or suspicion.
Lea.
She found him at the old well near the outskirts, sitting with his back against the stone rim, eyes fixed on the pale, unmoving clouds.
"You're brooding again," she said, her voice familiar and bright. It didn't match the mood of the morning but that was just like her.
Eren didn't look up. "I'm thinking."
"Dangerous habit." She dropped beside him, folding her legs under her skirt. Her red hair tumbled over her shoulder, wild as ever, and her green eyes danced like leaves in summer wind. "Let me guess: you had another dream."
He hesitated. "It's the tower again. But this time… it was calling me."
Lea went still. She didn't laugh or tease him like she usually did. "The black tower?"
He nodded. "There was a voice. I couldn't see who it belonged to, but it sounded… ancient. And angry. It kept saying one name."
She swallowed. "Akreth."
The word felt wrong on her tongue. Just saying it left a bitter taste, like ash.
Eren finally looked at her. "You know it?"
"Everyone knows it," she whispered. "We're just smart enough not to say it aloud."
They sat in silence, the wind brushing past like a warning. Somewhere in the distance, a bell rang once deep and low. It echoed through the trees, though the village hadn't sounded it in years.
Lea's expression tightened. "That wasn't the morning bell. It's not even time."
"I know." Eren stood. "Something's wrong."
They followed the sound, winding through narrow paths toward the village square. People had already gathered, murmuring, eyes locked on the old man who stood at the fountain's base. He wore tattered robes, his beard long and gray, and leaned on a staff made of twisted root.
Eren had never seen him before. But the villagers parted to let him through as if they knew exactly who he was.
"The seal weakens," the old man announced, his voice impossibly clear. "The Blade stirs."
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
Lea reached for Eren's arm, fingers trembling. "Tell me this is just a story. Tell me the tower is just a ruin."
But Eren couldn't lie. Not after that dream. Not with the way his wrist had begun to burn beneath the leather strap.
That night, the sky broke open. Rain fell in sheets, drowning the land in cold and darkness. Thunder cracked overhead like war drums, and wind screamed through the trees.
Eren stood alone in his small room, staring at the strap around his wrist. The glow underneath was stronger now visible, pulsing, alive.
He stepped outside. The village was silent, asleep or hiding. He walked past dark windows, past silent doors, past the well where he and Lea always sat.
He didn't say goodbye.
His feet moved on their own, drawn by something older than memory, older than thought. Through the forest, past the silver trees that bent unnaturally in the wind, until he saw it.
The tower.
Black stone, cracked and clawed by time, stood against the storm like a wound upon the world. No light came from its windows. No birds circled above. It was as if the tower consumed the very sky.
The door stood open.
He stepped inside.
And the last thing he heard before the darkness swallowed him
was a voice.
Whispering his name.
"Eren… You have finally come."