The torches still burned within the palace halls as the maid clutched the swaddled newborn to her chest. Smoke and screams lingered behind her, muffled by thick stone walls, but she dared not look back. She knew what had happened — the king's blade had silenced the spies of the First Queen, and his fire had devoured every trace of betrayal. To the world, it would appear an accident, a magical tool gone awry in a desperate attempt to contact him. To the world, the child was dead — a girl, no less — consumed alongside the loyal head maid.
But in truth, the boy still breathed in her arms.
She ran, heart hammering, toward the vaults beneath the castle. Her feet struck marble slick with ash, her breath ragged. Within the treasury chamber, a single chest layed unguarded — the king had meant for her to take what she could. Her trembling hands reached not for gold nor silver, but for the one thing she knew belonged to the boy's true bloodline: a necklace of moonstone and black steel, once worn by his mother. The empress who had been half-elf, half-demon… the woman who had borne him into a cursed destiny.
The heirloom was cold to the touch, humming faintly with a power she could not name. She slipped it into the swaddling with the babe, pressing her lips to his forehead before fleeing into the night.
---
The forest swallowed her.
Branches clawed at her gown, roots tore her shoes, but still she ran. The baby — Kaid, though no one yet knew his name — stirred faintly in her arms, eyes still sealed to the world. Behind her, the clang of steel and cruel laughter broke the silence.
"Stop, witch!"
Two soldiers emerged from the shadows, armored in plate that caught the moonlight. The crest upon their pauldrons bore the sigil of the First Queen. Their eyes gleamed with malice beneath their helms, like carrion birds scenting blood.
"You thought you'd run forever?" one jeered, lowering his spear. The iron tip gleamed, slick from the dew. "Hand over the brat. His blood belongs to Her Majesty."
The maid pressed forward, limping. She said nothing, clutching the child tighter.
"Silent, are you?" The second soldier spat, dragging his sword along the bark of a tree, leaving sparks. "Good. It'll make your death quieter."
They rushed her. The first spear lunged. She twisted, the haft grazing her arm — but the second soldier was faster. His weapon thrust low, piercing her thigh.
A cry tore from her lips as she stumbled, blood splattering the undergrowth. Still, she ran, dragging her broken body deeper into the forest.
"Look at her crawl!" one mocked. "Like a bitch with her whelp!"
Their laughter echoed through the trees.
---
Then the world changed.
The forest stilled. The insects quieted. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath. From the shadows between the trees, something vast emerged. Eyes the color of molten amber, fur bristling like blades, claws the size of sickles. A wolf — no, something older, more monstrous than any wolf. Its howl split the night like a horn of war.
The soldiers froze. One stammered, "W-what… what is that—" before the beast was upon them.
Steel met fur, but it was nothing. The wolf ripped them apart, jaws closing with the crunch of bone, scattering blood across the leaves. Their screams rose, then were silenced in an instant.
The maid collapsed, gasping for air, her body failing her. She cradled the child beneath her, shielding him with her own flesh as the monster turned its eyes toward them.
Her blood ran warm, soaking his wrappings. With trembling fingers, she pressed them to his tiny chest.
"Live…" she whispered, voice breaking. "Micah."
With her last strength, she dipped her fingers into her own blood and scrawled the name across his swaddling cloth. MICAH.
Then, her body stilled.
---
The infant stirred.
Kaid's eyes opened — golden, glimmering, unnatural. He found himself lying in the still-warm pool of blood, his tiny body shielded by the woman who had given her life for him. Confusion and grief struck him in a wave. And then — the voice came.
Not hers. Not any voice of this world.
His own voice. From his past life.
Kaid Richards… "awaken".
The newborn's vision split. Sigils, older than the world, burned across his sight. Frost curled along the trees, as if the air itself recoiled.
Your true name is Lexum Nilfheim. Bearer of Ruin. Heir of Frost.
The wolf growled, sensing the shift. It lunged.
But the child was no longer helpless. His cry rose — not a wail, but a scream that split the air like shattering glass. The ground buckled. Frost surged outward, spikes of ice tearing through the beast's flesh. Its body convulsed, unraveling under an unseen law.
Ruin. That was the power — to bring all things to nothing.
The wolf collapsed in ruinous silence.
---
The world held still again.
The god's voice spoke once more, calm and terrible:
> "Do you wish to make her one of your own(kin)? To bind her soul through the Ill-Doom, and make her the second of your kind to walk this earth?"
The baby turned his eyes to the broken body of the maid, blood still streaking her pale lips. His tiny hand reached out, trembling. He remembered — she had named him. She had shielded him. He owed her everything.
The answer came without hesitation.
"Yes."
---
And then reality broke.
The voice that followed was not the god's. It was softer, familiar, and yet it carried with it the weight of eternity. When she spoke, even the god fell silent.
"Bureau of Ruin."
The trees groaned.
"The Ego."
The stars dimmed.
"The Forgotten."
The world itself stilled, listening.
And then, a whisper that shook his soul:
"…Liohboa."
Designation complete.
> Quest: Avenge me.
The child's golden eyes widened. That voice — so tender, trembling.
"…A-r-i-u…"