The Basilisk's corpse was gone by the next morning. Burned. The elders had ordered the hunters to drag its hulking body beyond the village walls and set it ablaze, lest its blood poison the soil. By dawn, only ash remained.
But ash didn't erase memory. Nor did it erase fear.
The whispers began before the smoke had even settled.
Children asked why the hunters wouldn't look Aiden in the eye. Mothers hushed them, pulling them close, while fathers muttered about "keeping distance."
In the tavern, mugs clinked against wood as conversations bent in hushed tones.
"…a boy shouldn't have that kind of power."
"…what if he loses control?"
"…or worse, what if he's already lost it?"
The once-warm hearth of Blackwood Village had chilled, and Aiden could feel it in every passing glance, every murmured word cut short when he entered a room.
---
The elders gathered again that evening. This time, Elias was not invited.
The hall's shutters were drawn tight, candles flickering against faces lined with worry and age.
Elder Harren spoke first. His voice was steady, though the tremor in his hands betrayed him. "You all saw it. That glow. That hunger. A human doesn't devour poison. A human doesn't slaughter a Rank 6 as though he were born to it. That boy is a danger. If we leave him here, we invite ruin."
Several nodded, their faces grim.
But Miriam stood, slamming her hand on the table. "And if you cast him out? What then? Do you truly think someone with power like his will just vanish into the forest and never return? Or worse—be taken by the forest instead?"
A murmur rippled.
"Taken?" Harren scoffed. "He is already half-claimed. Did you not see the look in his eyes? That wasn't a boy fighting for survival. That was something savoring the kill."
The words cut deep. Too deep.
Elder Mara, the oldest among them, leaned forward, her voice a cracked whisper. "Once, long ago, there were tales… of mortals touched by hunger. They became neither man nor beast, but something between. Devourers. Walkers of the Abyss. And wherever they went, calamity followed. Perhaps the boy is one of them."
The hall fell silent. The weight of her words pressed down like a shroud.
Finally, Harren spoke again. "We cannot allow him to stay. The longer he remains, the greater the danger. I propose exile."
The word echoed like thunder.
Exile.
Miriam's eyes widened in fury. "You would cast out the very one who saved you? Hypocrites! Without him, that Basilisk would have razed this entire village!"
"And what of the next?" Harren snapped back. "What if the next beast comes not for us, but for him? Will you stand beside him then, when the forest answers his hunger with more monstrosities?"
The council fractured. Voices rose, shouting, accusing, pleading.
And outside the hall, unseen in the shadows, a figure lingered.
Aiden.
His back pressed to the wooden wall, his fists tight at his sides. He had come seeking truth, seeking some explanation for the way the villagers looked at him. Now he had it.
Exile. Curse. Hunger.
The words burned.
He stumbled away before they could hear his ragged breath, before they could smell the faint edge of copper on his tongue—the hunger gnawing again, awake and restless since the Basilisk's death.
---
The forest stirred.
Far from the village, deeper than even hunters dared to tread, something awoke. The death of the Basilisk had left a void in Blackwood's balance, and power never stayed unclaimed.
From the cavernous depths of a forgotten ruin, eyes opened.
Amber. Slitted. Cold.
The scent of blood, of a Devourer's hunger, carried on the wind. The creature inhaled, tasting it, savoring it.
A low rumble shook the stone around it, dislodging dust from ancient carvings etched with runes long dead.
The forest whispered back. Leaves trembled though no wind stirred, animals fled though no predator stalked them.
Something was coming. Something drawn to Aiden.
---
Back in the village, Elias found him sitting on the roof of the abandoned granary, staring into the trees.
"You heard," Elias said quietly, climbing up beside him.
Aiden didn't answer. His eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, though he tried to hide it by lowering his head. His voice cracked when he finally spoke.
"They want me gone."
Elias was silent. He couldn't deny it.
Aiden's fists tightened. "Maybe they're right. Maybe I don't belong here."
Elias studied him for a long time. "Do you believe that?"
"I don't know." His voice was barely a whisper. "When I fought the Basilisk, I felt… alive. Too alive. Like something inside me wanted more. Wanted to consume. It wasn't just survival. It was… hunger. And I wanted it. I still want it."
Elias's face hardened, but his voice remained steady. "Then you fight it. Every day. You fight it until the fight becomes who you are. Because if you don't, yes—you'll become what they fear. But if you do… then maybe you'll become what they need."
Aiden looked at him sharply. "And if I lose?"
"Then I'll be the one to put you down," Elias said without hesitation.
The words hit like a hammer, but strangely, they steadied Aiden. For the first time that day, the tightness in his chest loosened.
At least one man still saw him not as curse or salvation, but as a person.
---
But in the shadows beyond the walls, glowing amber eyes watched.
The hunger had called.
And something had answered.
---