The outskirts of Eryndur did not look cursed.
That was what made the silence unsettling.
Far from the crowded stone roads of the kingdom, beyond the villages that paid taxes to distant lords and beyond the farmlands where peasants bent their backs beneath grey skies, the land grew strangely untouched. The roads narrowed into muddy paths swallowed by tall grass and crooked trees. Fog often lingered there even during warm mornings, drifting lazily between the woods like wandering spirits.
It was a forgotten corner of the kingdom.
Or perhaps abandoned.
Yet amidst the quiet wilderness stood a single home.
Not a ruined shack.
Not a broken hut.
A real house.
Aged, but cared for.
Built from dark timber and pale stone, the house sat beside a narrow stream that flowed quietly through the forest. Moss crawled along the edges of the roof, and old vines wrapped themselves around wooden pillars near the porch. Time had weathered the structure, but not destroyed it. The windows remained whole. Smoke still rose from the chimney most nights.
It looked like a family home.
The kind built for warmth.
The kind meant to hold laughter.
But no laughter lived there anymore.
Only silence.
And occasionally screaming.
Aldreic carried a bucket of water across the yard as rain drizzled softly from the morning sky.
The cold mud beneath his bare feet squelched with every step, yet he barely noticed it anymore. His arms trembled slightly beneath the bucket's weight. He was still young—too young for the hardness already visible in his movements—but his body had learned labor long ago.
He pushed open the wooden door with his shoulder.
The smell hit him immediately.
Alcohol.
Burnt herbs.
Medicine.
Blood.
The house was dim despite the daylight outside. Curtains covered most of the windows, allowing only thin strips of pale grey light to enter. Shelves filled the walls, crowded with jars containing powders, roots, dried plants, strange liquids, and things Aldreic had stopped trying to identify years ago.
His mother stood near the table grinding dark leaves inside a stone bowl.
Her once-beautiful hair had become rough and uneven, tied carelessly behind her head. Deep shadows rested beneath her eyes. Burn scars marked parts of her fingers from years of potion work.
She did not look at him when he entered.
"You spilled some."
Aldreic glanced down.
Water dripped from the side of the bucket onto the floorboards.
"…Sorry."
"Sorry doesn't refill it."
Her voice sounded hollow.
Not angry.
Just exhausted.
Aldreic quietly set the bucket down beside the fireplace.
From the far side of the house came coughing.
Heavy.
Wet.
Followed by the sound of glass breaking.
His mother closed her eyes briefly.
"Go check on your father."
Aldreic did not respond immediately.
The coughing continued.
Then came shouting.
"Where's the damn bottle?!"
The boy walked toward the back room silently.
The wooden floor creaked beneath his steps.
He already knew what he would see before opening the door.
His father sat beside the bed surrounded by empty bottles. A large man once built like a soldier, now reduced to something swollen and bitter. His beard had grown unevenly across his face, streaked with grey despite not being old. One sleeve of his shirt hung empty where his left arm should have been.
His remaining hand gripped another bottle tightly.
Bloodshot eyes turned toward Aldreic.
"There you are."
The boy said nothing.
His father stared at him for several seconds before scoffing.
"Always staring."
Another cough escaped him.
"You think you're better than me?"
"No."
"Liar."
The bottle slammed against the wall beside Aldreic's head, shattering into pieces.
The boy did not flinch.
That seemed to anger the man more.
"You don't fear anything anymore, do you?"
Aldreic quietly bent down and began picking up the glass pieces from the floor.
His father watched him bitterly.
"I fought for this kingdom," he muttered. "Lost my arm for it."
No response.
"And what did they give me?"
Silence.
The man suddenly stood.
Or tried to.
The alcohol made him stagger forward violently before grabbing Aldreic by the collar.
"I asked you a question."
The smell of wine on his breath was overwhelming.
Aldreic looked at him calmly.
"…Nothing."
For a moment the man simply stared.
Then he struck him.
The blow sent Aldreic crashing against the wooden cabinet nearby. Glass jars rattled loudly above him.
Pain spread across his cheek slowly.
Strangely slowly.
Years ago he would have cried.
Now he mostly observed it.
His father breathed heavily above him.
"You think I wanted this life?"
Aldreic said nothing.
That was usually safer.
Another strike came.
Then another.
The room blurred briefly.
Yet even as pain spread through his body, Aldreic noticed something strange again.
The feeling was duller than it should have been.
Far away somehow.
As though the pain belonged to someone else.
His father eventually stopped, exhausted more than satisfied.
The man staggered backward toward the bed again.
"Get out."
Aldreic quietly rose to his feet.
Blood trickled from the corner of his lip.
He wiped it away with his sleeve before leaving the room.
His mother never looked up from her work when he returned.
"Sit down."
Aldreic obeyed.
The wooden chair felt cold beneath him.
On the table rested several small glass vials filled with dark blue liquid.
He stared at them silently.
His mother finally met his eyes.
"You know the routine."
The boy nodded once.
She handed him the first vial.
The liquid smelled metallic.
Almost sweet.
Aldreic drank it slowly.
At first nothing happened.
Then came the burning.
Not ordinary heat.
Something deeper.
It spread through his veins like liquid fire crawling beneath his skin. His hands tightened instinctively around the edge of the table as his breathing became uneven.
His mother watched carefully.
Observing.
Studying.
Not comforting.
"How much pain?"
"…Less than yesterday."
"Dizziness?"
"A little."
"Vision?"
"…Sharper."
She wrote something quickly onto parchment.
Aldreic stared at the flickering candlelight nearby.
Lately everything felt strange.
Sharper.
Louder.
Faster.
Sometimes he could hear rain before it began.
Sometimes he woke before nightmares happened, as though his body sensed them first.
Other times…
He felt nothing at all.
That frightened him more than pain.
The more potions he drank, the less certain he became of himself.
Emotions that once came naturally now felt distant and difficult to understand.
Fear faded first.
Then sadness.
Even happiness had become harder to recognize.
As though pieces of him were quietly disappearing one by one.
His mother handed him another vial.
"Again."
Aldreic hesitated slightly.
Not because he feared it.
But because part of him wondered if he should.
His mother noticed.
"You want to survive, don't you?"
The question lingered heavily.
Slowly, Aldreic took the second vial.
Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows.
The forest beyond the house swayed quietly beneath grey skies while the isolated home remained hidden from the rest of Eryndur like a secret buried beneath dirt.
No neighbors visited.
No merchants passed nearby.
No children played outside.
Only the three of them lived there.
A broken soldier.
A hollow sorceress.
And a boy born from both worlds.
A boy of violence and intellect.
Of steel and sorcery.
Two origins living inside one body.
That night, Aldreic sat alone outside the house beside the narrow stream.
The rain had stopped hours ago.
Moonlight reflected gently across the water while cold wind drifted through the trees.
His cheek still ached from the beating.
Yet the pain already felt faded.
Muted.
He touched the bruise lightly.
Nothing.
Or almost nothing.
For a while he simply listened to the forest.
Owls somewhere deeper in the woods.
Branches swaying.
Flowing water.
Then footsteps approached behind him.
His mother.
She stood silently near the porch holding a lantern.
For several moments neither spoke.
Finally she said quietly:
"When you were born… you cried louder than any child I had ever heard."
Aldreic looked toward her.
She rarely spoke like this.
The woman's tired eyes remained fixed on the dark forest ahead.
"I thought perhaps that meant you would live a happier life than ours."
Her voice trembled slightly near the end.
Then hardened again.
"But happiness is expensive."
She turned away before he could answer.
"A storm is coming tomorrow. Bring the firewood inside before morning."
And just like that, the moment disappeared.
Aldreic watched her reenter the house slowly.
The lantern light vanished behind the door.
Silence returned once more.
The boy lowered his gaze toward his reflection in the stream.
For a moment…
He barely recognized the eyes staring back at him.