The fire crackled weakly.
Kairo sat across from the girl they rescued, Iri. Her small hands were wrapped in Lira's spare bandages, her eyes still wide with confusion, fear, and something else—recognition.
Lira sat behind Kairo, sharpening her dagger again, though her eyes never left the girl.
"She's hiding something," Lira said softly.
Kairo didn't disagree.
But he also knew that look in Iri's eyes. The same look he once had. The look of someone who had been told they were wrong, broken, unwanted… just because they were born different.
He stirred the flames with a stick.
"Tell me about your mark," Kairo said.
Iri looked down at the glowing red line beneath her collarbone.
"It started showing a year ago," she said. "It doesn't hurt. But sometimes… it feels like it's pulling me. Like it wants me to go somewhere. And when I dream…"
She hesitated.
"You hear a voice?" Kairo asked.
She nodded quickly. "It says your name. Over and over. Kairo Vale. Sometimes I see your face too."
Lira raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's not creepy at all."
Kairo stayed quiet.
The curse… it wasn't just his.
It was reaching others.
Calling them.
He leaned forward. "Iri. Were you always able to use magic?"
"No," she said. "I was born a Void."
Kairo's stomach sank.
"So how did the mark appear?"
She looked away. "I don't know."
He didn't believe her. Not entirely.
But she was just a kid.
He wouldn't push—yet.
Later that night, when Iri had fallen asleep near the fire, Lira and Kairo sat alone under the trees.
Lira tossed a pebble at a broken log. "You know what this means, right?"
Kairo nodded. "I'm not the only one."
"No," Lira said. "You were never the only one. But you're the first who lived long enough to fight back."
He looked up at the moon, pale and far away.
"What is this curse?" he asked. "It's not like normal magic. It's not even dark magic. It's older than that."
Lira was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "It's a root."
"A what?"
"Imagine the world's mana like a tree," she explained. "Light magic, elemental spells, healing — those are the branches. Pretty, controlled, praised. But beneath it all, hidden deep under the dirt, are the roots."
She looked at him.
"Things the gods tried to bury."
Kairo's throat went dry. "You think this curse is one of those roots?"
"I don't think," she said. "I know."
He didn't speak for a while.
Then asked, "So why me?"
Lira shrugged. "Why not you?"
That didn't help.
The next morning, they packed their things and left the forest clearing.
Iri walked beside them, hugging a small, stitched-up plush rabbit to her chest. Her steps were quiet, but she didn't look like she was going to run.
Kairo led the way. Lira watched the rear.
As they reached a ridge overlooking the plains beyond Silverpine, Kairo stopped.
Below them was a village.
Or what used to be one.
The houses were burned down. The land was scarred with dark magic. Not normal destruction. Not war. Something else.
Lira stepped beside him.
"Cursed energy," she said.
Kairo nodded.
But there were no signs of survivors. Just scorched earth and broken stone.
Then Iri gasped.
"There!" she said, pointing at the edge of the village.
A symbol was burned into the dirt.
A perfect spiral made of jagged lines.
Kairo's mark began to glow again.
He staggered back.
"Someone like me was here," he whispered.
Lira narrowed her eyes. "Or worse."
They climbed down and stepped into the ruins.
Ash crunched under their boots. The air tasted burnt.
Kairo knelt near the spiral and touched the edge of it.
A vision struck him like lightning.
Flash. A boy. His age. White hair. Empty eyes. Surrounded by flames. Laughing.
"I'm free now. You all said I was nothing. Look at me now."
Flash. Bodies. Villagers running. Screaming. Mana failing.
Flash. The spiral burned into the earth by a wave of black fire.
Kairo gasped and yanked his hand away.
Lira caught him.
"What did you see?" she asked.
"There's more of us," he said. "But not all of them want peace."
They set up camp inside one of the only buildings still standing — a half-burned chapel. Its stained glass was shattered, and the altar was cracked.
Iri sat against a wall, drawing in the dirt with a stick. She didn't speak.
Kairo watched her. His thoughts raced.
If there were more people like him out there… how many had already been erased?
How many were still hiding?
And worse… how many had snapped, just like the boy in the vision?
That night, he dreamed again.
But this time, it wasn't just the voice.
It was faces.
Flickering between light and shadow.
Dozens of them.
All bearing the mark.
And in the center, a throne of bones.
A figure sat on it.
Not fully human. Not fully monster.
Its eyes were black pits with burning rings inside.
It leaned forward.
"Come find me, Kairo Vale. Bring the others. We are waiting."
Kairo woke up with a jolt, sweat dripping from his forehead.
Lira was already standing by the doorway.
"You heard it too," she said.
He nodded.
She glanced at Iri, still asleep.
"The curse is calling more of you."
"No," Kairo said, staring into the dark.
"It's gathering an army."