Kael moved like a shadow himself, gliding through the forest with the infant pressed against his chest. Every branch, every root that caught underfoot could mean death. His heart pounded, not from exhaustion, but from the fear that had gripped him the moment he realized the full scale of the night's disaster.
Isolde was gone. His wife, the mother of the Chosen, had sacrificed herself so the child could live. Kael's teeth clenched, not from hunger or pain, but from rage that scorched through his veins. Every step, every leap, every heartbeat was fueled by a single thought: they will pay. Every last one of them will pay.
The child in his arms was quiet now, but Kael could feel the pulse of power emanating from him, subtle yet undeniable. He had seen a hint of it in the clearing. Shadows fleeing, vampires turning to ash. It had been the child. Not fully awake, not fully in control, but already capable of feats Kael had never imagined.
He had to get them to safety before that power drew more attention.
The forest seemed endless, a maze of trees and dark whispers. Kael didn't trust a single sound. Every rustle could be an enemy hiding, every shadow a predator waiting for a chance. He ran, faster than the wind, leaping over fallen logs and weaving through thick trunks. The child's tiny head rested against his chest, his soft breath warm, almost serene. Kael's hand rested protectively over it, fingers splayed to cover the faint glow he could feel pulsing through the baby's body.
Obsidian Fang would not let this go. They were hunters bred to track and kill, and the prophecy was a threat they could not ignore. Kael could feel their presence even now, lingering at the edges of the forest like smoke. Quin had fled into the shadows after his initial failure, but the other vampires were already regrouping. Kael knew it would not be long before they were back, stronger, smarter, more determined.
A sudden movement to his right made him freeze. He barely had time to react as a vampire lunged from the underbrush, claws extended, fangs bared. Kael's hand snapped, grabbing a nearby branch, twisting it, and sending the attacker sprawling backward. The vampire hissed, recovering instantly, but Kael was already moving, faster than the eye could follow.
The infant stirred, small hands clenching and releasing in the rhythm of his power. Kael glanced down for a moment and his breath caught. The child's eyes, though tiny, flickered with light, a strange, ancient light that seemed impossible for someone so young. The forest itself seemed to react, the air thickening, leaves trembling in response to the energy pulsing from the infant.
Kael ignored the warning in his chest. There was no time to pause, no time to analyze. Survival demanded movement. He ran, leaping higher than humanly possible, climbing tree trunks when the ground became too dangerous. Each moment, he could feel the forest shifting, aware of the life he carried. Shadows retreated slightly, almost instinctively, when the child stirred.
Hours or maybe minutes passed. Time had no meaning in the frantic race through the trees. Kael had never felt more alive and more desperate at the same time. He had known battle, had faced enemies countless times, but nothing compared to this: the weight of a future resting in his arms, the burden of loss pressing down on him, and the knowledge that failure was not an option.
They reached a clearing near a stream, and Kael paused, crouching low, scanning the forest for any sign of pursuit. The child had quieted, resting against his chest, the faint glow around him dimming to a subtle pulse. Kael allowed himself a single breath, one that did not tear through his chest in panic.
And then he heard it.
A voice, low and deliberate, carrying through the trees.
"You cannot hide from us forever," Quin said.
Kael's head snapped toward the sound. Quin had returned, stepping from the shadows with a confidence that did not match the fear still evident in his eyes. His hands were empty, but Kael knew better. Quin would not confront him without some dark, forbidden magic at his command.
"Step aside," Kael said, voice low and deadly. "I will not ask again."
Quin smiled, a cruel twist that made Kael's blood boil. "You cannot protect him forever, Kael. He is not just a child. He is a weapon, a force beyond your control. One day, even you will see that."
Kael felt something stir in response, a surge of instinctual fury. "You do not know what he is," Kael said. "And you will learn the hard way."
The forest seemed to grow darker as Quin stepped forward. Shadows coiled around his fingers like snakes, eyes glinting with malevolent intent. The wind rose, carrying the faint hiss of unseen creatures gathering in anticipation. Kael's muscles tensed, and instinctively, he felt the child respond. The faint glow returned, stronger now, almost like a heartbeat expanding outward.
Quin's eyes widened ever so slightly, the first hint of true fear visible. "Impossible," he muttered, barely audible.
Kael saw his chance. He sprinted forward, faster than light, moving in a blur that made the shadows hesitate. Quin raised his hands to cast, but Kael reached him before the spell could leave his fingertips. The air ripped with power as Kael's fist collided with Quin's chest, sending him crashing into a tree.
But Quin was not finished. Shadows leapt from his body, striking toward Kael, wrapping around him, trying to drag him to the ground. The child cried out, a tiny sound that resonated like thunder. Kael felt the shadows recoil violently as if something ancient had woken in the child. Quin's eyes widened in terror.
"You… you cannot…" he whispered.
Kael ignored him, gripping the infant tighter. "We run. Now."
The forest itself seemed to part before them, an unseen force guiding their path. Kael ran again, faster than before, climbing, leaping, and disappearing into the shadows. Quin's voice followed them, trailing through the night, a bitter mixture of fear and rage.
Kael knew this was not the end. It was only the beginning. Every step carried weight, every heartbeat a reminder that the Chosen had awakened. And yet, in that moment, as the forest whispered around him and the child stirred softly in his arms, he felt something he had not felt since the night of loss: hope.
The first rays of dawn had begun to creep along the horizon, but Kael did not flinch. Unlike other vampires, he was immune to sunlight. And the child, sensing the power around him, remained calm, unafraid of the first light that painted the forest in gold.
Kael's eyes narrowed. They were not safe yet. Not by a long shot. But for the first time, he believed they could survive. He believed the prophecy could still be fulfilled.
And then, a distant crack echoed through the trees, a sound unnatural, deep, and deliberate. The forest shivered. Kael froze, instincts screaming. Quin had disappeared, but he was not alone. More were coming, stronger and faster than ever before.
Kael tightened his hold on the infant, his jaw set, heart pounding in rhythm with the tiny heartbeat against his chest. "Stay with me," he whispered, though the words were as much a command for himself as for the child.
The forest grew silent. Too silent.
And then the roar came, low and immense, a sound that rattled the leaves and shook the very earth beneath their feet. Kael's eyes widened, and for the first time, the child responded with a voice, tiny but impossibly clear, a single word that echoed through the clearing:
"Father."