Mael's eyes snapped open, his heart thudding wildly against his chest. The world around him was still cloaked in darkness, but something in the air had changed. The vision Selona had shown him lingered in his mind like smoke that refused to clear—a vision of a throne wrapped in shadow, blood rituals echoing in ancient tongues, and the cold, watching eyes of something vast and ancient. He blinked rapidly, but the images remained etched behind his eyelids. Kael's Kingdom wasn't just a distant threat. It was moving. Breathing. Reaching.
He sat upright, rubbing his hands together for warmth, only to notice that the heat he felt wasn't from the fire—it was radiating from beneath his skin. His veins pulsed faintly with an unnatural glow. Something inside him was shifting again, something deeper than the beast he'd already begun to fear. He stared at his hands, and for a second, they didn't feel like his own. They were instruments—claws waiting to be unleashed, bones restructured by a curse that was no longer dormant.
"Selona," he murmured, voice dry and rough. "If what you showed me is real, then we're not just standing at the edge of a war. We're already falling into it."
Selona didn't answer immediately. She stood a few paces away, her cloak brushing the grass, eyes fixed on the spaces between the trees as if she were listening to a language only she could hear. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm but heavy. "It is real, Mael. And you're more tangled in it than you realize."
He rose to his feet slowly, the weight of his body strange beneath him. "What do you mean? Why me?"
She turned to face him, and in her gaze, he saw something he hadn't expected—pity. "The curse in you… it's not just a punishment. It's a signal. A beacon. And Kael's forces, those creatures bound to the blood moon—they've been watching. Waiting. Either to take you… or to stop you before you become something they can't control."
Mael's jaw clenched. "So I'm a weapon now? A tool for someone else's war?"
"Or the one who ends it," Selona replied.
He looked away, anger and fear boiling in his gut. The fire's light flickered low, casting wild shadows. He hated the feeling of being trapped in a fate he didn't choose. But deep down, a voice—cold and primal—whispered that he had already started changing the moment the blood moon marked him. This wasn't just transformation. It was evolution.
Later that night, long after Selona had curled beneath her cloak and drifted into uneasy rest, Mael sat alone by the dying fire, lost in thought. The embers glowed faintly, crackling in the silence. Every time he blinked, the images returned—Kael's black-armored soldiers, the crimson-eyed priests, the throne of bones. He clenched his fists and whispered, "Why me? What have I done to deserve this?" But the night offered no answers.
Then it happened again. A twitch beneath the skin. A flash of heat in his spine. His breathing grew erratic, his chest tightening. He stumbled back from the fire, hand clutching at his ribs as something surged through his veins. The world twisted around him—trees warped into monstrous silhouettes, and the forest floor pulsed like a heartbeat. He heard the voice again, soft but sinister, crawling out from the deepest pit of his mind.
"They'll betray you… they fear you… let the beast loose…"
"No," Mael growled, staggering to his knees. "I'm not one of them."
The whisper hissed back, amused. "Not one of them… not one of us… then what are you?"
A broken laugh echoed around him like dead leaves skittering over a grave. His vision blurred once more, and the world shifted.
He was no longer in the forest.
A blood-soaked field stretched before him, and standing in the center was a creature wearing his face. Eyes glowing red, claws outstretched, breath steaming like smoke from a forge. It smiled—a twisted, knowing grin.
"You keep running from what you are," the thing said. "But every step you take brings you closer to me."
Mael stumbled back. "You're not real. You're a trick. A shadow."
The creature took a step forward. "No. I am truth. I am what the blood moon made. And you? You're just a cage waiting to break."
Mael screamed, but no sound came. Just silence. And the low growl of something awakening beneath his skin.
He jolted awake, breath ragged, sweat pouring from his forehead. He was back in the forest, on his knees, hands clawing at the dirt. The fire had burned down to nothing. His arms trembled, and as he raised his hands, he saw them again—half-shifted, the nails sharp, the bones thicker than before.
His transformation was no longer just physical. It was spiritual. Something was invading his soul, turning him into a vessel for something darker, something older than he understood. He wasn't sure if he was losing control… or if control had already been taken from him.
The first golden rays of dawn began filtering through the canopy above. The forest, moments ago a nightmare realm, now seemed almost calm under the morning light. Birds stirred. A cool breeze whispered through the trees. But Mael remained frozen, still kneeling, as if afraid to stand.
Selona emerged from the shadows, having woken silently. She knelt beside him, her expression unreadable. "It happened again, didn't it?"
He nodded. "It's growing stronger. And it's not just rage anymore. It speaks. It… it shows me things."
Selona placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then it's time to stop running from it. Time to face it—and shape it before it shapes you."
Mael turned to her, the morning sun catching the gold flicker still lingering in his eyes. "Teach me," he whispered. "Before I become something I can't live with."
She reached into her cloak and withdrew a pendant—a black stone etched with runes, its surface cool to the touch. She placed it in his hand gently. "This won't stop what's inside you. But it may help you remember who you are… when the time comes."
Mael stood slowly, eyes drifting toward the horizon. The sun had risen. Home lay beyond those trees, beyond the silence. Faces he once knew. Roads he once walked. But now, he would walk them changed.
"I need to go back," he said. "No matter what I find. They may hate me. They may fear me. But I need to see them. Protect them… if there's still anything left to protect."
Selona gave him a slow nod. "Then go. But be careful. They'll sense the difference in you… and not all will welcome it."
Mael started to walk, his figure casting a long shadow behind him, the wind tugging gently at his clothes. But just before he reached the edge of the clearing, he stopped and looked back.
"Will I see you again?"
Selona's cloak fluttered slightly in the morning breeze. Her lips curved into a faint smile. "Yes. Maybe even before tonight ends."
And with that, Mael turned and continued down the path—back towa
rd a past that no longer knew him, and a future that no longer waited.