The rain soaked Kalin to the bone, but he didn't care. His small hands gripped the white flower tighter, petals crushed under his fingers, yet still pure. He had survived the first attack, barely, and the shadows had vanished—but their warning lingered. They knew his potential, and they were coming back.
Kala clung to him, trembling. "Kalin… are we going to be okay?" she whispered. Her little voice sounded fragile against the roar of the storm.
Kalin looked down at her, the weight of responsibility pressing on him harder than the rain. "I… I will protect you," he said. The words felt hollow even to himself, but he had to believe them.
The shadows weren't gone—they were watching. Hidden eyes in the darkness, counting every step. Kalin's small body was exhausted, yet adrenaline surged through him. His heart hammered as he realized: this was no ordinary threat.
A sharp pain shot through his arm—his first real wound. The cut was shallow, but the blood startled him. He pressed his hand against it, staring at the red stain spreading on his sleeve. His small body shook, and tears threatened to fall, but he refused. He couldn't cry yet—not while Kala depended on him.
He remembered Anya's words: "Control yourself. Control your power, control your fear."
Kalin gritted his teeth, forcing his legs to move. He ran through the narrow streets, the storm washing over him, his little boots slipping in the mud. Every shadow could be an enemy. Every sound could be death.
Suddenly, a figure leapt from the darkness—a familiar shape from the night of the first attack. Kalin froze. The figure stopped, eyes glinting.
"You have potential," it said. "But you are not ready."
Before Kalin could respond, two more figures appeared from the shadows, flanking him and Kala. His small fists clenched. "Stay behind me, Kala!" he shouted.
The attackers moved fast, precise, trained. One grabbed for Kala, but Kalin threw his body in front, taking a blow to the chest. Pain exploded through him, but he refused to fall. Something inside him ignited—a spark, a fire he had never felt before.
Energy surged through his tiny frame, glowing faintly around him like a pale shield. The attackers faltered, surprised by the force emanating from such a small child. Kalin had tapped into something new—his instinct, his anger, his fear all combined into a raw, uncontrollable power.
Yet with power came pain. His first blood, his first real fight, left marks not only on his body but on his mind. He felt the weight of destruction he could unleash. Could he truly control it?
The attackers retreated slightly, regrouping. One moved forward again, and Kalin lunged, striking with a force that stunned even himself. The shadow fell, then another, leaving only one standing.
"This is only the beginning," the figure said, its voice cold, almost mocking. "Anya knew. That's why she stayed close, and that's why she will never tell you everything. The truth… will hurt more than any wound you can survive tonight."
Kalin's small chest heaved. He realized Anya had protected them not just with kindness but with secrecy. Her secret was bigger than anything he had imagined.
As the rain poured down, Kalin held Kala close. His hands were trembling from exhaustion and fear. Yet he smiled faintly. "I will survive. I will protect you. And I will find Anya's truth."
Above them, the storm seemed endless, but in the dark, hidden eyes still followed. The pursuit had just begun. And the first wound—bloody and painful—was only a reminder of the battle to come.The wind howled through the alleyways as Kalin and Kala held each other close. The memory of the first attack still burned in their minds, and the storm outside seemed to echo the chaos inside.
Anya's words had been left unfinished, her secret lingering in the air like smoke. Kalin's small fists tightened. He had to know.
From the dark corner of the street, a figure moved silently. Eyes like knives, calculating, patient. The shadow that had appeared before was back, and it wasn't alone.
"You're not ready… but you're growing," a voice whispered from the darkness.
Kalin's heart raced. He had to protect Kala. He had to survive. Every step they took was measured, careful. Every sound could betray them.
Suddenly, a sharp blade flashed in the dark. Kalin moved instinctively, catching Kala and dodging. The rain slicked cobblestones betrayed their movements. One small slip, and it could be over.
The attackers circled them, a dance of shadows and steel. Kalin felt his first real panic rise, a fire that pushed his instinct into overdrive. He was no longer just a child running—he was fighting to live.
He threw a stone at one attacker, distracted him enough to push Kala behind a crate. Another swung at him; Kalin's arm glowed faintly with energy, deflecting the strike. His body burned with pain, but he refused to yield.
The shadow laughed. "Your power… it's a blessing and a curse. Will you control it… or will it control you?"
Kalin's breath came in sharp gasps. He felt his first true anger, his first rage. His hands emitted a blinding blue glow, and the attackers stumbled back, shocked.
"Stay behind me, Kala! Trust me!" he shouted.
A silent moment. Only the storm and the pounding of hearts.
Then, the first blood of their pursuers. A sudden strike, a flash, and one of the shadowy figures fell, clutching his side, face twisted in shock.
Kalin knew this was only the beginning. The secret Anya hadn't shared… the shadow's knowledge… it would test him even further. And soon, he would have to make a choice—a decision that could shatter him, or save the only family he had left.The night had fallen completely, but the world outside seemed… sharper. Every shadow felt alive, every sound amplified. Kalin sat alone on the cold rooftop, staring at the faint glow of the city below.
His blue eyes… they were glowing. A faint, eerie light that pulsed with his heartbeat. He hadn't done anything—he hadn't touched anyone, hadn't fought, hadn't even moved—but there it was.
The glow grew stronger, flickering across his irises, and with it came a feeling he had never felt before: power… raw, untamed, uncontrollable.
Kalin's small hands trembled as he pressed them against his chest. "How… how is this happening to me?" he whispered, voice barely audible.
He thought of the fights in the streets, the bullying, the times he had been cornered and left with no one to protect him. Every time, a strange presence had felt like it was watching him, guiding his steps… yet now he understood. It wasn't just watching—it was inside him.
"Am I… weak? Or am I strong?" he asked himself, his voice shaking with the weight of fear and disbelief. "Why do they always chase me? Why do I feel eyes on me wherever I go? Is it because I'm dangerous? Or is it because I carry something… hidden… something that appears and vanishes without warning?"
The glow of his eyes intensified as his thoughts raced. Every unanswered question, every fear he had buried deep inside, seemed to fuel it. He could feel the energy coursing through him, like lightning trapped in a bottle, ready to strike if he lost control.
He clenched his fists. "Is this… my fault? Am I cursed? Or… is this my gift?"
The wind howled suddenly, rattling the rooftop tiles. Kalin shivered. He looked down at the city lights, but they didn't offer comfort. Instead, they reflected his confusion and terror.
"I don't… I don't want to hurt anyone," he muttered, almost pleading to the stars above. "Especially… not Kala."
A sharp gust of wind blew over him, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. He felt the glow in his eyes flicker again, and with it, a tiny flicker of control—he realized he wasn't powerless.
Not yet.
But the realization only deepened his dread. If this power could surface without him willing it… what would happen the next time someone threatened him or Kala? What would happen if he couldn't contain it?
Kalin swallowed hard. "If this is who I am… if this is inside me… then I have to learn it. I have to understand it. I have to control it… before it controls me."
The glow slowly faded, leaving only the reflection of the city lights in his deep blue eyes. His heart was pounding. His hands were shaking. But Kalin lifted his head, staring at the stars above.
No one else could teach him this. He would have to face it alone.
And yet… a part of him was excited. A tiny spark in the fear—a thrill that perhaps, just perhaps, he could become more than the weak child everyone thought he was.
For the first time, Kalin didn't just feel fear. He felt possibility