For sixteen years, Ashvale was a quiet and beautiful village on the edge of the powerful kingdom of Ravenshire. A boy named Kelvin Sylas Blake lived there with his parents. His father, Sagax Blake, was a skilled hunter. His mother, Julian Kraus, worked as the village healer. Kelvin was their only child.
The villagers spent their days fishing, hunting, forging weapons, and tending to crops. News from Duskmoor, the capital of Ravenshire rarely reached them, and most were content with their isolation.
Kelvin grew up training to become a hunter, just like his father. He started at the age of seven, joining his father on hunting trips. By the time he was twelve, he could bring down a deer on his own. The people of Ashvale praised him as a gifted boy. He was skilled with both the bow and the spear. He also had a natural talent for sword fighting, but he didn't train much with it as he thought it was useless for hunting.
After hunting trips with his father, Kelvin would often join his mother to help treat injured or sick villagers. He also learned how to prepare healing tinctures. Life at home was peaceful. They lived in a small cottage, and during the winter, they'd light a bonfire at night. His mother, Julian, would tell him stories about powerful sorcerers who used magic. His father, Sagax, would always argue and say she was filling the boy's head with nonsense but they'd all end up laughing together.
This went on for years. The family lived happily, going about their daily chores. Kelvin became known as a skilled hunter not only in Ashvale but also in nearby villages. In his free time, he spent time with his friends, and they always made the most of every moment until one fateful day.
It started like any other. The sky was clear and beautiful. The villagers were busy with their daily tasks. Kelvin and his father went out hunting and returned with a deer and four rabbits. As they walked through the village, girls were seen watching Kelvin and whispering to each other. One of them said, "He's very handsome. I'd love to be his wife." An older woman nearby laughed and replied, "That's up to him, dear. Just hope he notices you."
Kelvin was a very handsome boy, with warm brown skin and long black hair that he tied loosely behind his back. His eyes were violet, though they didn't stand out at first glance. He had a lean, strong build from growing up in the forest and learning to hunt. His clothes were simple, a rough brown tunic, wool trousers, and old leather boots. Over his shoulders, he wore a worn-out hunter's cloak his father had given him, fastened with a small bone clasp. A short knife hung at his side.
After returning home from the hunt, Kelvin and his father were greeted by the smell of a warm meal prepared by his mother. The three of them sat together for lunch, smiles on their faces as they enjoyed the food and each other's company.
Sagax looked at Kelvin and asked, "What do you have in mind for your future?"
A smile spread across Kelvin's face as he answered, "I want to travel across the earth and visit different kingdoms, see the world for what it is. Then I'll settle down, marry a beautiful girl, and have children."
Julian chuckled softly. "That's a big plan," she said. "You'll have to work hard to make it happen." She reached over and touched his hand gently. "But we'll always be here for you if you need us. And I hope I get to meet my grandchildren before I leave this world."
Unbeknownst to the villagers that afternoon, a stranger had come to Ashvale seeking refuge. On the outside, he looked like any ordinary man. His skin was pale and clear, without a single scar. To the villagers, he looked too perfect, almost unreal. He introduced himself as Renard and claimed he had been attacked by bandits in the forest. The people of Ashvale, kind and trusting, gave him a place to stay for the time being.
But what they didn't know was that Renard wasn't human at all. He was a vampire and a powerful one. He had been fleeing from a pack of werewolves he had crossed paths with. Their reason for hunting him was simple: an ancient, hidden war. Vampires and werewolves had hated each other since the very beginning of their existence. Each side saw the other as a threat that needed to be destroyed.
Life in Ashvale went on as it always had. Kelvin and his family kept to their daily routines, never suspecting the shadow that waited for them. All was ordinary, until that fateful night of the full moon.
Kelvin and his parents were in their cottage when screams shattered the calm of the village. Alarmed, they rushed outside. The moment they stepped through the doorway, they froze. Their eyes widened, and their breath caught in their throats.
In the center of Ashvale, Renard was locked in combat, not with men, but with monsters.
Bolts of red energy burst from his hands, striking the beasts that circled him. They were not like wolves of the forest, but twisted things that walked upright on two legs. Their eyes glowed with a sickly light, their claws glinted like blades, and their growls carried through the night like thunder. The ground shook beneath their charge as Renard fought desperately to hold them back.
Sagax's face went pale. "We need to get out of here," he said quickly. "If what we're seeing is true, then that man Renard and those creatures are..."
"Vampires and werewolves!" Julian shouted, finishing his sentence.
Kelvin looked at both of them, confused and afraid. "Vampires? Werewolves? What are those?"
Sagax answered, his voice low and tense. "They're beings we only heard about in old stories, legends meant to scare children. I never believed they were real… until now."
They turned their eyes back to the fight just in time to see Renard stumble, blood pouring from deep wounds. With a final cry, he collapsed to the ground, lifeless. Around him lay the bodies of four werewolves he had managed to take with him, their twisted forms twitching in the dirt.
Then came a chilling sound that froze every heart in Ashvale. A long, piercing howl rose into the night, shaking the very air. Out of the shadows stepped a towering figure, half man and half beast. His fangs glistened, his claws dripped with blood, and his voice rumbled deep and cruel.
"Kill them all. Leave no witnesses."
The rest of the pack surged forward. Twelve in total, their eyes glowing like embers, their muscles rippling with unnatural power. They moved with terrifying speed, faster than the human eye could follow, darting between huts in blurs of shadow and fur.
The villagers screamed and scattered. Some stood their ground, clutching wooden clubs, spears, and old swords. Arrows flew, striking true, but the beasts barely slowed. Claws tore through flesh, snapping spears in two as if they were twigs. A single strike from a werewolf sent men crashing against walls, bones breaking on impact.
Blood spilled across the dirt. Roofs caught fire as huts were torn apart in the frenzy, flames licking at the night sky. The air was filled with the crack of breaking wood, the thunder of heavy paws, and the endless chorus of screams. The werewolves were relentless, savage, and unstoppable.
Kelvin's parents knew they didn't have much time. With heavy hearts, they grabbed their son and ran through the trees, away from the chaos, toward the beach that bordered the village.
"What's happening?!" Kelvin cried, struggling to keep up. "We can't leave them, we have to help!"
Sagax held his son's shoulder firmly. "There's no stopping them, Kelvin. You have to survive. That's what matters now."
Julian's hands shook as she untied the canoe and brought it to the edge of the Sea. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "Listen to me, sweetheart," she said, her voice breaking. "You're strong, stronger than you know. You have to live. No matter what happens to us, you have to keep going."
Kelvin's eyes welled up. "No… I won't leave you, please!"
Sagax wrapped his arms around his son in one final hug. "You're my pride, Kelvin. And you must remember what you've learned. Trust your instincts. Be brave."
Julian kissed Kelvin's forehead gently and whispered, "Live, Kelvin. Live… and remember."
Before he could protest again, they lifted him into the canoe. Sagax pushed it into the water, his jaw clenched and eyes glassy with tears.
Kelvin looked back as the current pulled him away. He saw his parents standing at the seaside, side by side, faces full of love and sorrow.
Then, in a flash of firelight and shadow, they turned to face the danger behind them.
Kelvin looked back just in time to see his parents cut down. The village burned. Screams echoed across the water. He gripped the paddle tightly, tears blurring his vision as he moved farther and farther away. His heart was shattered, his eyes swollen with grief.
For days, he drifted aimlessly. The sea stretched endlessly in every direction. Hunger gnawed at his belly. Thirst burned his throat. His skin grew pale, his body thin and weak. But still, he held on, if only out of sheer stubbornness.
On the ninth day, his strength finally gave out. He lay flat in the canoe, staring up at the sky, barely breathing.
With what little life he had left, he whispered, "Please… someone, anyone… give me the strength… to avenge them."
Then, everything went still. Kelvin died.
His body remained in the canoe, untouched by the waves, as if the sea itself refused to claim him. For five days, he drifted lifelessly beneath the open sky.
Then, without warning, a strange energy surged through him.
His heart gave a single beat… then another. His eyes snapped open.
The sky was endless. The water, still.
He sat up with a gasp, his breath ragged and uneven. Confusion clouded his mind. Power surged through his veins wild, raw, and unfamiliar. His vision blurred for a moment before he blinked it into focus, slowly regaining control of his body.
Everything felt... wrong. Foreign.
His muscles tensed, fingers trembling as he raised a hand to his chest. He could feel the pulse of his blood, each beat thudding louder than it should. Something was different. Not just inside him but in the blood itself. He couldn't explain it, but he felt it.
Then came the awareness.
He could sense the sea's currents brushing against the canoe, hear the distant flap of wings and the soft chirping of birds overhead. Every sound, every vibration, felt heightened , too real.
And then, a voice echoed in his head:
"You have been granted another chance at life. But I must tell you, you are no longer a mere human. You are something beyond. To understand what you are, journey to the Kingdom of Brackwyn and find the Temple of the Nine Sigils."
Kelvin froze. His breath caught in his throat, and a chill ran down his spine. He looked around, wide-eyed, heart pounding like a war drum.
What was that?
The voice had felt... real. Too real to be a figment of his imagination.
Then it spoke again, calmer, more persistent:
"Journey to the Kingdom of Brackwyn and locate the Temple of the Nine Sigils."
Kelvin then swallowed hard, shivering slightly.
I don't even know where I am... and there's a voice in my head telling me to travel to some kingdom called Brackwyn?
Suddenly, he turned to his left, instinct guiding his movement. His eyes widened. Far in the distance, about seven kilometers away was land. He squinted against the sunlight, straining to believe what he saw.
How can I see that far? Am I hallucinating?
But the image remained, clear and unwavering.
No... it's real. I can see it. Somehow, I can really see it.
Kelvin's hands, though slightly shaking, gripped the paddle. Determined but uncertain, he began steering the canoe toward the distant shore.
The minutes passed slowly, each stroke through the water steadying his breathing. The sounds of the sea surrounded him, but his mind remained fixed on the voice and the strange power coursing through him.
After about fifteen minutes, the canoe brushed against soft sand. He had reached the shore of a village unfamiliar, quiet, and waiting.
Kelvin stepped out of the canoe and onto the shore, a flicker of relief crossing his face as his feet touched solid ground. He took a moment to steady himself, then slowly scanned his surroundings, hoping to spot something familiar maybe a landmark, a sign, anything he'd heard of before.
But luck wasn't on his side.
Nothing looked familiar. The village was quiet but alive, modest homes made of stone and timber nestled against the coastline. People moved about their day until they noticed him.
He sighed, running a hand through his damp hair, when he began to feel eyes on him. Curious stares. Whispers. He tensed, glancing sideways, catching fragments of conversation.
What shocked him the most was he could hear them clearly.
A girl, no older than sixteen, whispered to her friend, "He looks very handsome... and his silver hair makes him even more attractive."
The other girl leaned in and replied, "He does look handsome... too handsome, to be honest. And that hair color I've never seen anything like it before."
Kelvin froze beside his canoe, a puzzled expression overtaking his face.
Silver hair? Are they talking about me?
He quickly turned his head, scanning the area for anyone nearby with silver-colored hair. No one.
Then, instinctively, his eyes drifted to the water's surface. He took a step closer and looked down.
His breath caught.
Staring back at him was a reflection he didn't recognize.
His hair shimmered silver under the sun, flowing slightly in the breeze. His face was sharper, more defined. His once average frame was now more muscular, his posture straighter, stronger.
How... How do I have silver hair? Kelvin screamed internally. And my body... it's changed. I look completely different.
He stood frozen, eyes locked with the version of himself he didn't know.
Shock settled over him like a wave.
I have to find out where I am, he thought, clenching his fists. And I need to find that damn temple... to understand what's happened to me.