Chapter One: The Night of the Red Sky
They feared what they could not control. So they chose to destroy it.
In the year 8000, the red moon rose high — a rare and terrible sign. For centuries, the Bloodmoon Clan had guarded ancient power passed down through blood. Each child born under their crest carried two marks: glowing red eyes and crimson hair. They were protectors. They were cursed. And now, they were hunted.
All around the mountain citadel, the world had gathered — old allies turned traitors, fearful of what the Bloodmoon bloodline might become. Armies swarmed the valley like insects. Machines hovered. Magic cracked through the skies. The betrayal was complete.
Inside the crumbling fortress, Alan, leader of the Bloodmoon Clan, held his infant son for what might be the final time. The child's small fingers clutched a glowing red pearl tied to his chest — a sacred relic of the bloodline. His eyes, barely open, gleamed faintly with the unmistakable shine of his father's lineage.
Alan's long red hair was streaked with dust and blood, his crimson cloak torn. The world was collapsing outside, but his focus remained steady. He looked across the hall to his younger brother, Min, who stood shaking, trying to hide his fear.
"They've broken through the second barrier," Min said, voice cracking. "There's too many. They brought everyone. Even the ones we helped."
Alan didn't respond immediately. He simply stared down at his son, memorizing his face. The explosions grew louder. Each one a reminder that time was running out.
"They don't want surrender," Alan finally said. "They want extinction. Every last drop of our blood."
Min stepped forward, desperate. "Then let me fight. We can—"
"No." Alan looked up, eyes glowing brighter. "You will take him. You'll run through the western path. You know the forest. You know where the wards are hidden. Go beyond the hills. Raise him in silence."
"You can't ask me to leave you behind."
"I'm not asking."
Min hesitated. The child cried softly. A piece of the ceiling cracked and fell behind them. The end was near.
Alan walked forward and placed the baby into Min's arms. He touched his brother's shoulder — firm and final.
"You are his shield now. Let the world believe we are dead. One day, when he's ready… he will rise. But not now. Now, he is only a boy."
A distant roar echoed through the mountains. The gates had fallen. The enemy was inside.
Min, with tears in his eyes, nodded. "I'll protect him. With everything I have."
Without another word, he turned and vanished into the secret passage hidden behind the stone altar. Alan watched them go until the echo of footsteps faded.
Alone, he stood in the collapsing hall, surrounded by shadows and silence. He did not draw his sword. He did not raise his hand to fight.
He simply closed his eyes… and waited.
Far beyond the mountain, under the shadowed trees, Min ran without looking back. In his arms, the infant boy cried, unaware of the fire consuming his home. Behind them, the skies glowed red with the light of destruction. The Bloodmoon burned.
And with it, an entire legacy vanished.
Or so the world thought.
---
Whispers would remain. Of a child with red eyes. Of a clan erased by fear. Of a name buried by betrayal but not forgotten.
One day, the moon would rise red again.
And when it does…
The bloodline will return.