The sound of footsteps echoed through the dying forest, sharp and frantic—like hunted prey darting through dry leaves. Shadows stretched longer in the fading dusk, and the air grew thick with the scent of damp earth and blood.
A boy ran—no, staggered—deeper into the heart of the forest. His breaths came in ragged gasps, chest heaving as if each inhale was a battle. Behind him, no voice called his name, no help followed—only silence and the ever-hungry woods that seemed to swallow light.
His legs buckled at last, and he collapsed beside an old oak, its roots twisted like grasping hands. For a long moment, he sat still—chest rising and falling rapidly—before slowly lifting his head to look around, as if unsure whether he was still being chased.
His name… was Aiden.Though once a child of nobility, now he looked no different than a wounded animal left to die.
His clothes, once fine silk lined with silver thread, were torn and stained with mud, blood, and ash. His left sleeve hung in tatters, revealing a faint, glowing sigil etched into his skin—crimson, pulsing softly with each heartbeat. His skin was pale, not from birth, but from the blood he had lost. A thin trail of it dripped from his side where a deep cut marred his ribs, partially bandaged with a strip of cloth torn from his own shirt.
His face was sharp yet too young for the weariness it held. Dirt clung to his jawline, and a bruised shadow darkened one eye. His lips were cracked, and there was something hollow in the way he stared at the ground—like someone who had stopped hoping to be saved.
But his eyes…One was a soft storm-grey—the color of quiet winter mornings.The other, cursed by fate, burned crimson—a trait that had damned him since birth.
The villagers called it the Ruin Eye.
To them, he was not Aiden. Not a boy. Not a son.Just "the cursed one."Just a burden to be hidden.Just a weapon to be used.
Now, even that role had ended. He had been chased out like a beast, hunted by those who once fed him, clothed him, smiled at him across dinner tables.
And yet—he was still breathing.
The boy leaned his head back against the tree, his breath fogging slightly in the cooling air. Branches creaked above as the wind stirred the forest, carrying distant howls from creatures that smelled blood. But Aiden didn't flinch.
He had nothing left to lose.
Not yet, he told himself.Not until they pay for what they did.Not until I learn why this curse chose me.
As the first star pierced the darkening sky, the forest went silent—unnaturally so.The cursed boy closed his eyes.
Somewhere, the mark on his chest pulsed again—brighter this time.
And something old and sleeping… stirred.