The night Aelric was born, the sky wept. Heavy rain pounded against the roof of the small, secluded cabin where his parents, Elara and Thane, awaited his arrival. The air was thick with tension, their breaths shallow and quick as they anticipated the birth of their first child. Thane, a sturdy man with a stern demeanor, held Elara's hand, his eyes betraying the fear he tried to conceal. Elara, her face contorted in pain, gripped his hand tightly, drawing strength from his presence.

The moment Aelric entered the world, a strange silence fell over the room. Elara held her breath as she looked upon her child for the first time. His skin was pale, almost luminescent in the dim candlelight, a stark contrast to the deep brown of his parents. But it was his hair and eyes that truly set him apart. His hair, a striking white, and his eyes, which shimmered with an ethereal glow, revealed his heritage. He was a child of the Astral, a race feared and shunned by humans for their mysterious powers and their connection to mana.

Elara and Thane exchanged a glance, a mix of awe and dread washing over them.

"He is beautiful," Elara whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

Thane nodded, his expression conflicted. "He is... but we must be careful. If anyone finds out..."

Days turned into weeks, and Aelric grew stronger, his presence bringing a strange light into the cabin. Elara and Thane tried to keep his unique nature a secret, hoping to protect him from the world’s prejudice. But in a small village, secrets were hard to keep. Rumors began to spread, whispers of a child born with the mark of the Astral.

One fateful evening, a group of villagers, driven by fear and ignorance, gathered outside their home. Torches in hand, they demanded to see the child. Thane stepped outside, trying to reason with them, but their minds were set. They forced their way into the cabin, their eyes wild with anger.

"There! The cursed child!" one of them shouted, pointing at Aelric, who lay innocently in his crib.

Panic surged through Elara as she clutched her baby to her chest. "Please, he's just a child!"

The villagers, fueled by superstition and fear, were relentless. "He brings the curse upon us all! We must rid ourselves of this abomination!"

Realizing there was no way to protect their son, Thane made the heart-wrenching decision to flee. Under the cover of night, they escaped into the depths of the Whispering Abyss, the villagers' torches flickering like distant stars behind them.

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The forest was a place of legend, known for its treacherous paths and dangerous inhabitants. Elara and Thane hoped that its foreboding nature would be enough to deter the villagers from following. They ran until they could run no more, finally collapsing in a small clearing, their breaths ragged.

"We can't keep running," Thane said, his voice breaking. "They'll never stop. They'll hunt us down and kill us all."

Elara's eyes filled with tears as she looked at her husband. "What do we do?"

Thane looked at Aelric, then back at Elara, his heart shattering. "We have to leave him here. It's the only way."

With trembling hands, Elara kissed her son's forehead, her tears mingling with the rain that still poured from the heavens. She placed him gently on the mossy ground, wrapping him in a tattered blanket. "I’m so sorry, my love," she whispered. "Please forgive us."

As they turned to leave, Aelric's cries echoed through the forest, a haunting reminder of the sacrifice they were making. Elara's sobs matched the rhythm of the rain, and Thane's eyes burned with unshed tears.

Alone and abandoned, Aelric's cries grew weaker as the night wore on. The forest, sensing the presence of an intruder, stirred. A group of demons, drawn by the sound, crept closer. Their eyes glowed with malevolent hunger as they encircled the helpless infant. One of them, larger and more scarred than the others, stepped forward, its claws glinting in the dim light.

With a swift, brutal motion, it ripped out the child's eyes, savoring the taste of his pain. Aelric's screams grew louder, more desperate, as the demons began to feast on his flesh. His world, once filled with light, was plunged into darkness and agony.

But fate had other plans.

A figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a grace and speed that belied its age. Clad in tattered robes and bearing a staff adorned with ancient runes, the Mana Seer struck swiftly, dispatching the demons with a series of precise, deadly blows. The forest fell silent once more as the last of the demons crumpled to the ground, their lifeless bodies dissolving into the earth.

The Seer knelt beside the mutilated child, his heart aching at the sight. This was no ordinary infant; the Seer could see the faint, flickering glow of mana within him, a testament to his Astral blood. Gently, the Seer lifted the child into his arms, cradling him as he murmured soothing words. The child's cries subsided, replaced by weak, shuddering breaths.

"You are safe now, little one," the Seer whispered, his voice filled with a deep sorrow. "I will care for you. You will never be alone again."

As the Seer carried Aelric deeper into the forest, the Whispering Abyss seemed to close around them, its shadows offering a protective embrace. The journey ahead would be long and arduous, but within the depths of the forest, a new life awaited the forsaken child. A life of trials, of learning, and ultimately, of strength.

Aelric's destiny was tied to the very heart of the forest, and in time, he would come to understand the true power that lay within him. But for now, cradled in the arms of the Seer, he drifted into a fitful sleep, the whispers of the forest lulling him into a fragile peace.