***
In the ruins of a forgotten chapel—stone pillars cracked, stained-glass windows long shattered—a lone man sat before a ritual circle carved into the floor. He looked no older than his thirties, though his hair had turned a ghostly gray far too soon. His eyes were calm, ancient, and heavy with purpose. This place was silent, yet it felt as though it was being watched.
Soft footsteps broke the stillness.
A small girl, no older than nine, stepped through the archway. A hooded robe draped over her tiny frame, dragging slightly across the dusty floor. She approached the man with unwavering obedience.
"Master Armadale," she said, holding out a small, pulsating object wrapped in cloth. "Here is the Heart of the Covenant."
Armadale reached out with one hand and gently patted her head. "Well done, little one," he said softly.
He took the heart.
Without hesitation, he crushed it in his palm.
The heart burst—not with blood, but with shimmering liquid and drifting fragments of celestial light that spilled into the grooves of the ritual circle. The symbols came alive instantly, drinking in the otherworldly essence.
Armadale stood, and golden energy spiraled around his extended hand, wrapping his fingers in radiant power. The girl stepped beside him. Together, they stood within the circle as its light intensified.
"Listen carefully," Armadale said, his voice echoing strangely as the magic grew. "This mission must not fail. The child must not grow to the stage of Oblivion."
The girl nodded, clutching her robe.
The circle flared—brilliant, blinding.
In the same heartbeat, both master and apprentice erupted into golden light.
And vanished.
***
The sun shone brightly in the sky, enveloping the day in golden light. Its beauty was beyond measure, but even more magnificent was the miracle about to unfold: the arrival of their child. Madeline was seven months pregnant, and time was ticking down. Arthur vividly remembered the moment he heard the doctor deliver the golden news. He had been so overwhelmed that he fainted and had to be carried out on a stretcher.
Madeline was beyond excited, as this was her first experience of motherhood. She eagerly anticipated cherishing every moment of it. From morning till night, Arthur remained by her side, always ensuring she had support when she was tired, even during the late hours.
They spent countless hours discussing names for their child. Madeline suggested "Haru," but Arthur had a different idea. "How about 'Mori'?" he proposed, though they both agreed that it might create confusion later on.
Eventually, they settled on two names. "If it's a boy, he'll be named Clide, after my grandfather," Arthur announced. "And if it's a girl, she'll be named Rya, after my grandmother," Madeline added. With that, they happily made their final decision together.
It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, however, as Arthur was hiding a secret he had never shared with Madeline. The truth was that the day the doctor informed him about their child was also the day he discovered something else: the child wasn't truly "his." They had used a device that scans for abnormalities in a patient's DNA through soul waves, and what they found was truly abnormal. The child shared almost 90% of its DNA with that of a hollow being, which had never been possible before. This meant he was the first hybrid, but even stranger was the fact that only 5% of the child's DNA was human, while the other 5% was inconclusive.
This was odd because the child shared genes with Madeline but not with Arthur. He kept this information to himself, knowing his wife was loyal and considered the child a blessing from Averidia. Even if it seemed impossible since he was with her almost all the time, he didn't deny that their child wouldn't be entirely human. Arthur vowed to love and nurture the child, as it was his, no matter what.
Two months passed in the blink of an eye. The sight of two children from the town playing in the open fields filled Madeline with joy—a joy that grew even stronger with the warmth of her child resting in her arms. Clide, with his jet-black hair and glowing crimson eyes, made her smile and cry at the same time. Arthur felt an intense sense of pride. They were both so happy to have their baby boy; they were so happy to have Clide.
"Mom. Dad."
"Why do I look so different?"
Today was a very special day; Clide's 10th birthday was here, and he was getting ready for the Court of Souls. The Court of Souls is a fundamental event in a child's development. From ages 10 to 15, children attend the Court to connect their soul energy to a core, allowing their energy to be properly measured. Many children will attend this event, including a young star.
"What do you mean?" Madeline asked, and Clide was quick to answer. "What I mean is that you and Dad both have blond hair. Dad's eyes are blue, and yours are brown. But I have black hair—really black hair—and my eyes are red; sometimes they even glow."
This question caught Madeline off guard, so she decided to come up with an answer that would suffice. "Clide, you're not like me or your dad. You're special. You're a miracle that I believe will bring greatness to this world. And no matter how different you look from us, you will always be my son and my pride."
Clide's eyes welled up with tears, and his mouth curled into a smile. "Thank you, Mom," he said as he hugged her tightly with his little hands.
Madeline quickly reminded him to finish getting ready, as they didn't want to be late for the Court of Souls event. Clide hurriedly dressed in his gray and brown jumpsuit before running outside, where Arthur was waiting for them.
They soon arrived at the capital of Etheria, where they saw the magnificent location of the Court of Souls: the Church of Averidia. The Church of Averidia was a colossal building that had been constructed in what seemed like a relatively short time—just three years.
Clide's eyes glimmered in awe at the sheer scale of the Church; its magnificence was something he had never seen before. "Mom, Dad, do you see it? Do you see it?" Clide exclaimed, pointing at the Church and running around with excitement.
Clide's parents walked with him to the entrance line, where his name was taken. Clide was assigned a special number that would be called when it was his turn: "312945." Afterward, Clide's parents were asked to wait in the local town, as only the children could enter the church. Clide, however, was not happy with this; he had never really talked to people by himself, and naturally, he felt scared. But Arthur reassured Clide, telling him it would be alright and encouraging him to go in and do his best.
Eventually, Clide was escorted into the church. The interior was as impressive as the exterior, with colossal spaces adorned with statues along marble walls, and stairs stretching across and downward. Clide could see a massive number of people, most of whom seemed to be around his age—10 years or younger. However, he also noticed a few who appeared to be much older. As he was guided down by two guards, Clide found himself among a bustling crowd of over 300,000 kids chatting away like ants. The atmosphere was noisy, crowded, and unorganized, and Clide had never been very "social" in his life.
The overwhelming number of people made it difficult for him to move, leading Clide to frantically walk through the crowd, trying to find a less congested area, but it seemed never-ending. His breathing became heavy as he pushed through the crowd. One boy even grabbed his hand, shouting, "What the hell is wrong with you!?" Clide brushed the boy's hand off and quickly turned to leave, breaking into a sprint. He ended up colliding with another kid, falling to the ground in front of him. Looking up, he saw it was a little boy with hair as white as the snow Clide played in during winter, and eyes as golden as his mother's jewelry.
The boy looked down at Clide and said, "Can't you use your eyes? Well, I don't expect much from your kind."
Clide sat there with a confused expression, which seemed to only annoy the boy further. "Why are you just sitting there? Get the hell up, idiot!"