The wasteland was quiet that night, too quiet. The wanderer's instincts prickled. She had survived too many battlefields not to recognize the stillness of an ambush.
"Stay close, Kael," she murmured as they crossed a narrow ravine, the moon casting long shadows against the jagged cliffs.
Kael nodded, his hand tightening around the wooden practice blade he insisted on carrying. He was only ten, but he refused to be treated as helpless.
That was when the first arrow struck.
It clattered off the rock beside them, the sharp hiss of its flight cutting the silence. The wanderer's sword was in her hand before the echo faded.
"Down!" she barked.
Kael dropped low, heart pounding. From the cliffs above, shadows moved — hunters, cloaked in dust, bows drawn and blades glinting in the moonlight.
"There!" a voice shouted. "The cursed boy! Kill him, and the bounty is ours!"
Kael's chest tightened. His mark pulsed faintly, as if mocking the danger.
The wanderer met the attack head-on. She leapt forward, her blade flashing silver in the moonlight, cutting down the first man who dropped from the rocks. Another lunged from behind, but she turned, her movements sharp and efficient, ending him in a single strike.
Still, there were too many.
"Run, Kael!" she commanded. "Find cover!"
But Kael froze as one of the hunters landed before him, eyes gleaming with greed. The man sneered, raising his dagger. "So this is the monster child. Doesn't look like much."
Kael's body shook. Fear clawed at him — yet something deeper stirred. His mark seared, light spilling faintly through his shirt.
The hunter's sneer faltered. "What—?"
Kael's vision blurred with silver. His small hands gripped the wooden sword. Without thinking, he swung.
The wood should have broken. Instead, it cracked against the hunter's dagger, shattering the metal clean in two. Shock flashed in the man's eyes, but Kael didn't stop. He screamed and struck again, silver light erupting from the broken blade. The force hurled the hunter backwards, slamming him into the cliffside with bone-snapping impact.
Silence fell. Kael stared at his trembling hands, the shattered wood glowing faintly. "I… I did that?"
There was no time to wonder. Another hunter charged him, blade raised. Kael stumbled back, fear surging again — but before the strike could land, the wanderer was there. Her sword cut the man down in a single fluid motion.
She turned sharply to Kael, eyes blazing. "I told you to run!"
"I—" Kael's voice cracked. "I couldn't. He was going to—"
"Excuses later!" she snapped. Her blade whirled again, meeting another attacker.
The hunters, shaken by what they had seen, hesitated. The boy was no ordinary child — the rumors were true. Fear rippled through their ranks.
"Fall back!" one shouted. "The curse is real!"
They vanished into the cliffs as quickly as they had come, leaving only silence, blood, and dust behind.
Kael collapsed to his knees, the broken wood still clutched in his hands. His chest burned, the mark dimming once more. He looked up at the wanderer, fear and awe tangled in his eyes.
"I didn't mean to," he whispered. "It just… happened."
The wanderer's face was grim. She knelt beside him, wiping the blood from his cheek with her sleeve. "That power will draw more than hunters, Kael. You can't lose control like that again."
Kael lowered his head, shame heavy in his chest. But beneath the fear, something else stirred — a spark of exhilaration. For the first time, he had fought back. For the first time, he had not been helpless.
And though the wanderer's warnings echoed in his ears, Kael could not silence the thought that whispered within him.
If this curse gave him such strength… perhaps it could also be his salvation.