The sky over Eldrath had not been blue for days.
It wept.
A thick crimson mist drifted through the air like a dying breath, staining rooftops, soaking into soil, and whispering to those who listened too long. The elders called it a bad omen. The priests called it punishment. But Kael… Kael felt something else.
A calling.
He stood at the edge of Orun Vale, staring into the forest that no one dared enter anymore. The trees were tall and crooked, their branches like fingers clawing at the bleeding sky. People said the forest had a will. That it watched. That it chose.
And today, it had chosen him.
His fingers tightened around the hilt of a broken sword. Rust clung to its edges, and the blade was chipped beyond repair—but it was all he had left of his father.
"You don't have to do this."
Kael turned. It was Mira, her eyes filled with worry. She had followed him, as she always did.
"If you go in there," she continued, "you won't come back the same."
Kael let out a quiet breath. "I'm already not the same."
Three nights ago, the Souleaters came.
They tore through the village like a storm of shadows—silent, merciless. His home was gone. His father… gone. And the sky began to bleed the moment it ended.
Something had changed.
Something had awakened.
"I need answers," Kael said, his voice steady but low. "And they're in there."
Mira reached out, grabbing his arm. "Or death is."
He gently pulled away. "Then I'll meet it."
Without another word, Kael stepped into the forest.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the air grew heavier. The sounds of the village faded, replaced by a deep, unnatural silence. Even the wind seemed afraid to move.
Then came the voice.
"You are late, heir of ash."
Kael froze.
"Who's there?" he demanded, scanning the shadows.
A figure emerged.
A girl.
Her hair was long and dark, but her eyes… her eyes glowed silver like moonlight on water. Curved horns rose from her head, elegant and terrifying. She did not walk—she drifted, as if the ground itself refused to touch her.
"I have waited long enough," she said calmly.
Kael raised his broken blade. "What are you?"
She tilted her head, studying him. "I could ask you the same."
There was something in her voice—something ancient.
"I'm Kael," he said cautiously. "And I'm looking for answers."
The girl smiled faintly. "Then you have already found them."
The ground trembled.
A low, bone-chilling sound echoed through the forest. From the darkness, shapes began to form—twisted figures made of shadow and bone.
Souleaters.
Kael's breath caught. "No… they followed me?"
"No," the girl said softly. "They were waiting."
The creatures lunged.
Kael swung his blade instinctively, but it passed through one like mist—only slowing it for a moment. Panic surged through him.
"They can't be killed like that," the girl said.
"Then how?!" he shouted.
She stepped forward, raising her hand. The air warped.
"Choose, Kael," she whispered. "Run, and live as nothing… or fight, and awaken what sleeps inside you."
Another Souleater leapt.
Time slowed.
Kael's heart pounded. His grip tightened. Something burned in his chest—hot, violent, alive.
"I'm not running," he said.
The broken blade began to glow.
And the forest… screamed.