THE BINDING OAT

Elara awoke to an unfamiliar stillness. The clearing was gone, replaced by a vast expanse studded with starlight. The ground beneath her shone like glass, reflecting the constellations above. She stood slowly, her breath catching in her throat as she realized she wasn't alone.

Before her now, the figure in the clearing stood at the edge of her vision, colder, more imposing. "Welcome to the Threshold," the figure said. "This is where your fate is decided."

Elara's heart pounded. "What is this place? What do you want from me?"

"The power of the thorns and stars is yours for the taking," he said, "but it is not a gift. To have it, you must swear the Binding Oath."

Elara hesitated. What if this is some kind of trap? But if I refuse. what happens to me?

"What does the oath require?" she asked, her voice steady despite her fear.

The figure moved closer and, with a wave of the hand, a glowing quial and parchment appeared. It glowed with faint light; the words written in the language she couldn't read. "The oath will seal your destiny. You will have the power to protect or destroy. But once sworn, there is no turning back."

Her mind went on in rapid detail. Would I actually be able to use this power? At what price?

"I want answers," she replied resolutely. "What price am I paying?"

The hood of the figure tipped to one side, its tone almost amused. "The price is yet to reveal itself. Your path will make it clear. Choose now, Elara—claim your power, or remain ordinary and let the forest consume you."

Elara's pulse quickened. Images of her village flashed in her mind—her mother's distant gaze, the villagers' wary whispers. She clenched her fists. Ordinary? No. I've been ordinary long enough.

With trembling hands, she took up the quill and pressed the tip to the parchment. And the words shifted, scribing themselves in a new configuration of letters in an alphabet she knew: "I swear to take into myself the power of star and thorn, to follow as the path is given before me, whatever the price.

As the last word was written, the parchment dissolved into light, wrapping around her. A searing pain shot through her chest, and she screamed as the magic coursed through her veins. The stars above whirled faster, and the earth at her feet cracked open, swallowing the figure in shadow.

With the fading of the light, she returned to the clearing alone. The circle of stones shone dimly, and her hands felt aflame as an intricate pattern was etched upon her skin now-a seal of the oath sworn.

A voice, so distant yet so clear, whispered in her mind, "The journey has begun, Elara. Beware the choices ahead.

She staggered to her feet, the weight of her decision settling over her. The forest seemed quieter now, as if holding its breath. From somewhere far away, a faint howl pierced the air and sent chills down her spine.

Elara looked at her marked hands, determination flaring in her chest. Whatever lies ahead, I will face it.