MARK OF THE FORSAKEN

Liana sat quietly by the edge of a stream, listening to the gentle movement of water as it rolled over smooth stones. Sunlight shone through the canopy above, displaying patterns of light and shadow on the ground around her. She dipped her hand in the cool water, trying to enjoy the feel and also make her aware of her present. But her mind was elsewhere, tangled in memories of her old life.

She thought back to the early days in her village, back when everything seemed so simple. She hadn't understood the whispers, the sideways looks, the way people were trying to avoid her. She had been young and innocent, unaware of the weight she would carry because of the strange mark on her arm, a dark shape, almost like a shadow, that spiraled across her left forearm. Her mother had always told her to keep it hidden, tucking it in her clothes and instructing her never to let anyone see.

As she grew older, she began to sense the tension around her, a fear that showed in her village people whenever she was near. It was as if she were a bad omen, a reminder of something people would rather not think about. Still, she tried to ignore it, focusing on helping her family, and her pack, doing whatever she could to feel like she belonged.

But one memory rose above all others, clear and sharp. She had been fourteen, and it was the day she truly realized what her mark meant to those around her.

That day, she had gone to the village square to help her mother with errands, carrying baskets and running from stall to stall. She had been smiling, enjoying the bustling life around her, when she noticed the village elder, a stern man with piercing eyes, speaking to a group of pack members nearby. He looked up and saw her, and immediately stopped talking and instead shifted his gaze to her arm, where her mark was barely visible under the sleeve of her cloth.

He raised his hand, pointing at her, and shouting at the top of his voice. "The cursed child walks among us," he said, his tone was very ash. "Beware, for she brings ill fortune."

Liana stood and became speechless at the sight of the elder, her heart just kept pounding in her chest. She looked up at her mother beside her, she grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her away. Her mother said to her "Keep your head down, and don't draw attention."

They hurried home, but Liana couldn't forget the way the elder had looked at her, as though she were something dangerous. That night, her mother finally told her the truth, sitting her down by the fire, her voice heavy with sorrow.

"Liana," her mother began, taking her hand gently, "the mark you carry—it's a symbol. A symbol our pack fears. They believe it brings misfortune."

Liana had stared at her mother, her heart sinking. "But why?" she had asked, tears filling her eyes. "Why would they think that? I haven't done anything wrong."

Her mother looked away, struggling to find the right words. "Long ago, there were stories…stories of wolves born with a mark, a mark that brought either great power or great ruin. The elders believe that those with the mark are cursed, that they bring darkness wherever they go."

Everything changed from the day her mother explained about the mark to her. The people's whispers and stares now had deep meaning to her.

When she turned sixteen, the fear finally took a more dangerous turn. A terrible storm occurred in the village, dark clouds filled the sky, and thunder rumbled everywhere. Liana was out in the fields when she saw one of the elder's sons chasing the livestock into their pen. During all the pandemonium, the boy stumbled, falling to the ground as the thunder crashed above.

Liana ran over to help him based on her instinct, grabbing his arm to pull him to his feet. But he rejected her assistance with disdain as if he were looking at a monster. He pulled his arm away, shouting, "Don't touch me!"

Rumors spread through packs like wildfire. They said Liana was the one who had made the storm happen; the lightning had hit because she had been there; they said just her being there was a risk to everyone. And from whispers, they grew into accusations and names such as the cursed one, the marked wolf.

But it would still be weeks and weeks before Liana would see the sadness in her mother's eyes and the helplessness in her father's looks. Of course, they wanted to protect her, but they were helpless before the fear of the pack.

After some time, the elders decided to call a gathering. This is dead important, every member of the pack was there, faces serious, and they had turned to face her family. Liana stood near her parents, her hands shaking, her heart pounding painfully in her chest.

The voice of the elder of this village was cold and stiff. Grief hits her like a hurricane, but she carries on nevertheless. 'We cannot endanger our pack.

Liana's father stepped forward, his voice steady and fierce. "She's just a girl. She's done nothing to harm anyone."

But the elder shook his head. "This is not about her actions. This is about the mark, the curse. Our ancestors warned us of this. We cannot ignore the signs."

No matter what her father said, the elders' minds were set. They had already decided. Liana was to be cast out, exiled to the forest, away from the pack. Her presence was too much of a risk, they claimed, a danger to everyone.

Her mother had stayed with her the night before she left to help her pack a small bag of food and essentials. She fought to hold in the tears, but the despair was etched on her face for Liana to see.

Her mother pulled her closer, "You can get through this, Liana. Do not let their fear be your label.

Liana nodded and clung tight to her mom, but she felt a yawning void inside. The following morning, her parents escorted her to the edge of the forest, where the rest of the pack conducted themselves at a distance away, fear and sorrow sketched on their faces.

"Liana, be safe," her father said, straining to keep his voice even. Find strength in yourself. Remember that you are loved."

Liana slowly turned, not looking back, and walked into the forest, each step pulling her deeper away from her life as she knew it. She didn't look back because she was afraid her parents' sight might break her strength.

The early weeks in the woods are all a blurry haze of survival and strife. She taught herself how to find food, how to keep herself away from the cold, how not to step on the things that crept in the woods

She spent her days acclimatizing to the wood, listening to its whispers, finding solace in its hush. Gradually, she became stronger, her senses more acute, her instincts more discerning.

But some nights, it was all so raw — as if she'd been thrown out yesterday, as if every blade of pottery he'd shattered, every vicious word, had happened moments ago.

Sitting beside the stream lost in thought, suddenly felt something stirring in her heart. She had no idea what lay ahead, but after a long time, she knew hope. Maybe, someday, she would find a way to break free from the shadow of her mark and prove to herself and to the world that she was more than just "the cursed one."