The night was heavy, the kind that pressed down on the soul.
Dark clouds strangled the moonlight, and the old village of Duskvale lay in silence. Only the distant hoot of an owl and the whispering of the wind through the cracked wooden houses disturbed the stillness.
Inside a dim hut at the edge of the village, a boy sat with his grandfather.
The boy's name was Kael — thin, sharp-eyed, far too serious for his twelve years of age. Across from him sat his grandfather, a frail man whose trembling hands betrayed not only age but also the weight of the knowledge he carried.
Between them lay a small black stone, etched with faint glowing runes. It pulsed slowly, as though breathing.
"Kael," the old man's voice was hoarse yet firm.
"Tonight, you will attempt your first seal. Remember, once you call upon a Jinn, it will never leave you. It will be your burden until the day you die."
Kael clenched his fists, heart pounding. He had heard the stories of the Karabasan — nightmare spirits that pressed upon the chest of sleepers, suffocating them until they awoke screaming, or never woke at all.
"But Grandfather," Kael whispered, "what if it devours me instead?"
The old man's eyes darkened. "Then you will die, as many of our bloodline have before you. But if you succeed… you will no longer be prey in this cruel world."
The stone quivered. The runes glowed brighter. A cold draft swept through the hut, and Kael felt it — a presence pressing on his chest, invisible fingers tightening around his breath.
From the stone seeped a shadow, thin as smoke but heavy as despair. A whisper slid into Kael's ears, a voice not of man but of darkness itself:
"Do you wish for power, child? I will give you nightmares… and in return, I will feed upon your soul each night you sleep."
Kael's body shook, but he did not look away. Instead, he bit his lip until blood trickled down his chin and smeared across the stone.
"Then take my fear," he hissed. "I will not be prey."
The shadow surged, coiling around him like chains of mist. The stone burned in his hands as the seal etched itself into his Essence Core.
The old man's eyes widened — Kael had done it. But as the boy gasped for breath, he already felt it: a gnawing, icy terror lodged deep in his mind.
The seal was complete. But the price had only just begun.
---
That night, sleep came like a thief.
At first, warmth cradled him — but soon darkness smothered everything. Kael found himself in an endless void, shadows writhing like serpents. Whispers echoed in countless tongues, but all carried the same meaning: fear.
A figure emerged from the blackness.
Tall. Faceless. Skeletal, with fingers long as daggers. Its presence pressed upon him with unbearable weight. The Karabasan.
"Mine," it whispered, voice like a coffin's lid slamming shut.
"You gave