The wind softly drifted through the tall trees, rustling the shimmering green leaves in the sunlight. The smell of moist earth combined with pure magical energy flowing from the roots of ancient trees.
The forest wasn't just a place to live—it was alive. It breathed. It protected.
At the heart of that enchanted forest stood a simple wooden house.
That was where the small family lived.
Astra ran lightly between the trees, his laughter soft and innocent. His hair was split into two colors—purple on the right, blonde on the left—glimmering under the sun. His glowing red eyes stood in contrast to his still childlike face.
He was only twelve years old.
The third child of four siblings.
Kuro, the eldest, always smiled gently, patting Astra's head whenever he fell. Emma, his strict yet caring older sister, never hesitated to pull his ear when he got too reckless. And Yuki, the quiet youngest, often watched the world with an unreadable, expressionless face.
Their life was simple.
Their father was a high-level adventurer who chose early retirement. Their mother was just a mage with basic abilities. They weren't nobles.
Not important people. Just an ordinary family who chose to live far from the noise of the world, within the territory of the Tabirris Kingdom.
And for Astra, that was more than enough.
He thought that happiness would last forever.
He was wrong.
.
.
.
The first sound wasn't a scream.
It was an explosion.
The ground trembled. Birds scattered in panic.
The once gentle wind turned wild.
The smell of burning crept into Astra's nose.
He turned around.
The sky above the forest had turned red.
Horned creatures with black wings descended like a rain of death. Their laughter was hoarse.
Giant trees collapsed one after another, consumed by flames that were anything but normal.
"Demons…" someone whispered.
Astra couldn't remember who.
Everything happened too fast.
His father leapt forward without hesitation, sword in hand. His mother chanted a spell with a trembling voice, a magic circle glowing beneath her feet.
"Kuro! Take them and go!" his father shouted.
Kuro clenched his teeth.
Astra hid behind a bush with Emma and Yuki. His hands trembled. His body refused to move.
He saw it.
He saw black claws pierce through his father's chest.
He saw his mother's body thrown violently against a tree trunk.
He saw blood.
Too much blood.
"We're leaving. Now." Emma's voice shook, but her grip was firm.
"No! I don't want to!" Astra struggled, tears blurring his vision. "Dad! Mom! Kuro's still there!"
In the distance, Kuro stood, swinging his sword, drawing the demons away from them.
For a brief moment, he looked back.
That faint smile—just like always.
And then he disappeared, swallowed by flames and darkness.
"Quiet!" Emma snapped, her voice breaking. "They're already dead! If we stay, their sacrifice will be meaningless!"
Astra froze.
Yuki ran beside him, her face still expressionless. But tears silently fell from her eyes.
The forest that once felt warm had turned into hell.
And all Astra could do…
was run.
That night, for the first time, he slept without the sound of the forest.
Without his father.
Without his mother.
Without Kuro.
Inside a cramped room at an inn in the port city of Yucon, Astra lay staring at the wooden ceiling. Emma slept beside him, exhausted.
Yuki curled up with her back turned.
Astra clenched his fists.
"I'll kill them…" he whispered. "Not a single one will be left."
Darkness doesn't come with a sound.
It comes slowly… growing alongside the hatred of a twelve-year-old child.
.
.
.
Six years passed.
The world waits for no one.
Astra grew taller. His body hardened through training. Thin scars lined his arms and legs—the marks of practice and the small battles he sought out himself.
He learned to push his body beyond normal human limits.
He learned to control the elements.
And one day, in a moment of uncontrollable rage, something inside him answered a call that should have never existed.
From that day on, Astra realized one thing.
He didn't just hate the darkness.
A part of him… was that darkness.
But he chose to seal it deep within.
His revenge had to remain human—not a monster's.
Morning light slipped through the window of the small room.
Astra opened his eyes.
The once unfamiliar wooden ceiling now felt normal.
He was no longer the child crying behind the bushes.
He stood up, walked to the window, and pushed it open with a faint creak.
The city of Yucon greeted him with sunlight.
His journey had just begun.