The Glimmers of Twilight

Chapter 2: The Mark of Destiny

The next morning, daylight broke through the half-open shutters of Ethan's room, waking the young man from a restless sleep.

He slowly sat up, his head still clouded by the visions of the previous night. Everything seemed so real: the forest, the orb, and the rune engraved on his palm.

His eyes fell on his right hand, and his breath caught. The mark was still there, a dark imprint in the hollow of his skin, like a burning reminder of the strange event from the previous night.

"It wasn't a dream," he murmured to himself, his fingers gently brushing over the rune.

He got up, glancing towards the forest through his bedroom window. The trees stood motionless, peaceful, bathed in the soft morning light, but he knew that behind this apparent tranquility lay much darker mysteries.

The feeling of having crossed an invisible line weighed heavily on him. He felt as if he were being watched, as if an unseen presence was watching over him, or perhaps waiting for him.

He couldn't stay here without understanding. The mark seemed to pulse, filled with an energy that urged him to move, to seek answers.

Ethan put on jeans and a sweater, then hurried downstairs towards the kitchen. His mother was there, preparing breakfast, a warm smile on her lips.

"Did you sleep well, sweetheart?" she asked without lifting her eyes from the pan.

"Yeah... well, not really," he replied with a grimace.

She turned her head towards him, noticing the circles under his eyes.

"You should rest, Ethan. You look exhausted. Maybe you're working too much on your projects."

He gave her a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I'll take care of myself, don't worry. I think I'll just go into town this morning."

In town, there was someone who might be able to help him. The librarian, Madame Rousseau, was known for her interest in local folklore and ancient legends. Ethan thought she might have some information about the symbol imprinted on his palm.

An hour later, he was standing in front of the old door of the municipal library.

The building, with its stone walls and large arched windows, always had something mysterious about it.

He entered, greeted by the familiar smell of old books and the comforting silence of the place. Madame Rousseau was sitting behind her desk, glasses perched on the tip of her nose, deeply absorbed in an ancient book.

"Good morning, Madame Rousseau," he said, approaching timidly.

She looked up, her gray eyes scrutinizing him with curiosity.

"Oh, Ethan, good morning. What can I do for you, young man?"

He hesitated for a moment, glancing around to make sure they were alone. Then, he revealed his right hand, showing her the mark.

"I need your help... This mark appeared last night, in the forest. And ever since, I keep having visions, images of places and symbols that I don't understand."

Madame Rousseau's eyes widened, and she leaned in for a better look. Her expression shifted from surprise to a kind of reverent concern.

"My boy... you shouldn't be here," she murmured, her voice suddenly lower, almost trembling. "Follow me."

She stood up, inviting him to follow her to the back room of the library.

Ethan felt a growing tension, a latent fear that threatened to erupt.