The Grand Banquet Hall shimmered under the glow of a thousand lanterns, their golden light reflecting off the lacquered tables and the jeweled robes of the nobility. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats, spiced wine, and the cloying sweetness of honeyed fruits. It was the Prince's Coming of Age celebration, and the King had spared no expense.
Kim Do-hyun moved like a ghost between the revelers, his arms laden with trays of delicacies, his head bowed. He was invisible here—just another faceless servant in a sea of silk and arrogance.
Then *she* spoke to him.
"Your sleeve is torn."
The voice was soft, almost hesitant. Do-hyun froze, his gaze flickering up. Standing before him was **Lady Han Seol**, the daughter of the northern lord. She was dressed in pale blue, her dark hair pinned with silver pins shaped like crescent moons. Her eyes—wide and startlingly clear—held something he hadn't seen directed at him in years.
*Concern.*
Before he could react, she reached out, her fingers brushing the frayed edge of his sleeve. "You'll catch cold like this."
A mistake.
A shadow fell over them.
**Prince Seong-won** stood there, his smile sharp as a dagger. "Lady Han," he purred. "Surely you have better company to keep than *this*?"
The nobles nearby tittered. Lady Han's cheeks flushed, but she didn't recoil. "Compassion is never wasted, Your Highness."
The prince's grin twisted.
Do-hyun knew that look. He stepped back, but too late—the prince's goblet *"slipped"*, drenching him in wine. The nobles erupted in laughter as the sticky liquid dripped down his face.
"Clumsy," the prince sighed. "Perhaps you need a lesson in grace."
He snapped his fingers. The guards seized Do-hyun, dragging him toward the courtyard. The nobles followed, their laughter rising like a pack of hounds scenting blood.
The prince drew his dagger.
"Let's see if you can scream *now*."
The blade flashed down—
—and **the world went black.**
Not the dark of night. Not the dim of a snuffed candle.
*Absolute, devouring blackness.*
The prince's dagger **shattered mid-air**, as if hitting an invisible wall. The nobles gasped, stumbling back. The torches guttered out, one by one.
And from the darkness, **Do-hyun rose.**
Shadows coiled around his arms like serpents. His veins pulsed with ink. When he breathed, the air itself trembled.
The prince's face paled. "*What are you?*"
Do-hyun didn't answer. He couldn't. The power **burned** through him, whispering things he didn't understand.
*Run*, it urged. *Kill. Hide.*
With a final, shuddering gasp, he **vanished**—swallowed by the night.
Leaving behind a shattered banquet, a terrified prince, and the lingering scent of **something ancient and hungry.**