The night was restless.
Wind moved through the trees like whispers that did not want to be heard. The sky was heavy with dark clouds, and far away thunder rolled, low and warning.
A woman ran through the forest path, holding a baby tightly to her chest.
Her breathing was uneven. Branches scratched her arms, but she did not slow down. Her only focus was the child wrapped in a dark cloth.
"Please… stay quiet… little one…" she whispered, her voice shaking.
The baby stirred but did not cry, as if he understood the danger around them.
Behind her — footsteps.
Not one.
Many.
Men were chasing her.
Their shadows moved between the trees, fast and silent. Steel glinted whenever lightning flashed across the sky.
Assassins.
She ran faster.
Minutes earlier…
She had been inside a dim chamber lit only by a single lamp.
A tall cloaked figure stood near the window. The wind pushed the curtains wildly, hiding the figure's face in shadow.
The woman — the maid — knelt, her head low, her body trembling.
"My lady…" she whispered.
The cloaked figure did not speak at first.
Only the sound of the storm answered.
Then slowly… the figure stepped forward.
A pale hand emerged from the cloak, holding a small baby wrapped in silk.
The maid's breath caught.
The child's eyes were closed, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the fear filling the room.
The cloaked figure's hand trembled slightly as she held the baby out.
"Take him…" her voice came, soft but breaking.
The maid looked up in shock.
"My lady… I—"
"Go." The voice was firmer now, though pain hid beneath it. "Take him far from here. Do not stop. Do not trust anyone."
A tear fell from beneath the shadow of the cloak, landing on the baby's forehead.
The maid hesitated.
"My lady… what about you?"
Silence.
Only thunder.
Then the cloaked figure gently placed the baby into the maid's arms.
"His life matters more than mine."
The maid's eyes filled with tears.
She bowed her head deeply.
"I swear… I will protect him."
The cloaked figure leaned forward slightly and pressed her lips to the baby's head — a quiet, lingering kiss.
For a moment, lightning flashed outside the window, lighting the room in white.
The maid thought she saw faint sparks dance along the baby's blanket…
…but the light vanished before she could be sure.
"Go," the cloaked figure whispered one last time.
The maid did not look back again.
Now…
She ran through the forest, her lungs burning.
The baby was growing cold from the night wind, so she held him closer beneath her cloak.
The footsteps behind her were getting closer.
She could hear men speaking in low voices.
"Spread out."
"She's heading toward the water."
"Don't let the child escape."
Fear stabbed through her chest.
They were not chasing her.
They were chasing the baby.
She broke through the trees and stumbled onto a riverbank.
The river was wide, its waters dark and fast under the storm sky.
She looked left.
Right.
No bridges.
No boats.
Only the rushing current.
Her heart pounded wildly.
Footsteps approached behind her.
She had no time.
Near the water's edge lay a small wooden cradle boat — used by villagers to send offerings down the river during festivals.
Her hands shook as she pulled it closer.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" she whispered to the baby.
The child opened his eyes for the first time.
Silver.
Bright even in the darkness.
For a moment… thunder roared above them.
She swallowed her tears.
She removed the silk cloth wrapped around him and tucked it more securely, shielding him from the cold.
From within her robe, she took out a small pendant — a half-crest engraved with a lightning symbol.
She tied it gently around the baby's neck.
"So one day… you will know who you are…"
The baby's tiny hand wrapped around her finger.
She froze.
Her composure broke instantly.
Tears streamed down her face.
"I wish… I could stay with you…"
Footsteps snapped twigs behind her.
Closer now.
She quickly laid the baby inside the cradle.
The child did not cry.
He only looked at her quietly.
She pushed the cradle into the water.
At first it rocked near the shore…
Then the current caught it.
Slowly…
It began drifting away.
She walked into the water a few steps, as if trying to hold on longer.
But the river pulled the cradle farther.
Lightning flashed across the sky — bright and blinding.
For a split second, the river shimmered like silver.
The baby's eyes reflected the light.
Then darkness returned.
The cradle drifted farther…
Farther…
Until it was only a shadow on the water.
"THERE!"
Voices shouted behind her.
She turned.
Assassins emerged from the trees, weapons drawn.
Their faces were hidden, but their intent was clear.
One of them looked toward the river.
"The child—!"
Before he could finish, the maid stepped forward, blocking their path.
Her fear was gone now.
Only resolve remained.
"You will not touch him."
Steel clashed as she drew the dagger hidden at her waist.
She was not a warrior.
But she did not step aside.
Behind her, the river carried the child deeper into the night.
Thunder roared once more — louder than before.
Far downstream…
The cradle drifted beyond the forest, beyond the borders of the land he was born in.
The storm slowly quieted.
Clouds parted just enough for moonlight to touch the water.
The baby slept again, calm, as if the river itself protected him.
The pendant at his neck glowed faintly once… then dimmed.
The current carried him toward another land.
Another destiny.
Another life.
The storm had lost its child.
But the storm had not disappeared.
It was only waiting…
…for the day it would return.