I've always taught myself to treasure and guard the things that I care for.
But what happens when I no longer have something to protect and love?
The night wind softly beat against my face, carrying the scent of roasted fish from the small bonfire. Shadows stretched farther and farther, as if trying to engulf the peaceful village in darkness. The faint glow of lanterns brightened the wooden walls of the houses, while distant laughter and the crackling fire broke the silence.
I pulled my cloak tighter, even though the cold never bothered me—the faint warmth of the fire barely reaching me. Despite my fourteen years alive in a small family of fishermen, I had always struggled with fishing. Today, however, the small victory of my catch felt like the whole world belonged to me, and only me.
I tilted my head back, staring at the endless expanse of clouds we called "sky," stretched on forever. That everlasting blanket was always there to remind me how small and fleeting I really was. Familiar, yet strangely ominous—as if it were foretelling misfortune.
For now, though, the feeling was distant, like a shadow at the edge of happiness that I wasn't ready to notice.
But then the shadow moved.
The village wall, quite a ways off, shattered in an instant, torn apart with a thunderous crack that split the night. Stone and dust erupted into the air, lantern light scattering like Mad fireflies.
I immediately stood up, startled.
Laughter died in everyone's throats. The warmth of the bonfire faded... It felt miles away.
Through the fresh wound in the wall, something crept inside. It didn't charge, it didn't stumble. it simply seeped.
A presence of darkness thicker than night itself, dragging with it a silence so heavy that even the wind, so gentle a moment ago, dared not
speak.
My breath didn't want to leave my lungs. I couldn't move. my legs rooted as if the earth itself refused to let me flee. All of the fibers in my body begged to move. To run. As far as humanly possible. Something about that malevolent presence made my heart shrink, and my eyes wide in pure, genuine fear
Around me, voices rose in panic - yells, shouts, the rush of footsteps scattering in every direction. but it all sounded muffled, like I was trapped beneath water. My eyes stayed locked on the walking darkness. In the midst of all of the screaming, I could faintly hear Fragments of words, but barely enough to understand anything.
They were Nyxes. Creatures of pure darkness and chaos, spoken of in whispers and forgotten prayers. Their bodies shifting and emanating shadows, hinting to a degraded humanoid form. It was as though reality itself rejected them. The eyes (if they could be called that), burned faintly within the black mass, unblinking and cold, watching the village with a strange hunger that no wall, no light, could keep away.
The fire crackled, a fragile defiance against the overwhelming black. Sparks lifted, only to vanish as the air grew heavier, colder. The Nyx crept farther into the village, slow, deliberate, each step stretching the silence until it threatened to tear me apart.
My mind was too blurred. I couldn't think straight. Someone screamed. Wood splintered. The once-peaceful village dissolved into chaos, but I remained still, swallowed by fear, by awe, by the certainty that this was no nightmare.
The screams spreaded, infecting the air. Men scrambled for weapons - rusted blades, hunting spears, even firewood torn from the flames. Anything that could keep them safe. Mothers pulled their children close, dragging them away through the smoke and dust. Panic twisted the familiar faces I had known all my life into strangers, desperate and wild.
The Nyx crept forward. Every movement was deliberate, silent, yet crushing. When a spear was hurled, it appeared to stab the being, but it was untroubled, simply ignored. A torch was thrust forward, its flame flickering bravely, but the darkness smothered it in seconds. Nothing touched them - nothing mattered.
Through the blur of noise and terror, a good distance from me, I caught sight of two figures who didn't run. My father's hand gripped the handle of his precious fishing spear, knuckles white, his body trembling but unyielding. My mother stood beside him, a kitchen blade glinting in her hand, her eyes filled with a savage determination. They didn't shout. They didn't hesitate. They stepped forward, placing themselves between me and the malice, as if their bodies alone could suffice as a shield from the inevitable.
Father lunged first, thrusting his spear straight into the shifting darkness. For a heartbeat, I thought it worked! The tip met resistance, piercing through. But then the darkness coiled around the shaft like smoke given form. With a sickening sound, the wood cracked.
A violent twist splintered it in hundreds, if not thousands of pieces, shards flying uselessly across the ground. My father's eyes widened-not in fear, but in grim understanding - just as the damned creature's hand lashed out and coiled around his throat. His body was lifted upward, feet dangling, air choked from him as he clawed desperately at the strong, unnatural grip.
"Dad!!" The cry tore from me before I could think. My legs carried me forward, blind and reckless. Beside him, my mother screamed his name. Her small blade flashed in the lantern light, cutting with wild, furious strikes. Every slash tore through the mass, but it knit itself back together instantly, taunting her efforts. "Let him go!" she roared, her voice raw.
I stumbled closer, the world a blur of noise and fire and choking black. In my chest, a wild determination sparked-I had to reach them. I had to help. No matter how weak I was, no matter how small, I would not stand by. My heart pounded as if it could burst me forward, faster and faster.
But my body betrayed me.
A crushing weight suddenly pressed on me, heavier than my own limbs, heavier than the earth itself. My knees buckled. I collapsed into the dirt, hands sinking into the cold soil as I tried to drag myself forward. My voice cracked, breaking into sobs.
"Please, PLEASE, NOT THEM-"
For a brief moment, I thought I saw the monstrous eyes looking at me, with that empty, emotionless gaze. Then, the nyx pulled away for a fraction of a second. My father's body convulsed, eyes wide and bloodshot, before the strangling darkness silenced him. The small light, the fracture of a star, faded from his eyes. The same caring yet scolding, encouraging and determined, warm and reassuring eyes. The same ones that looked like they held the entire world inside. Now empty, with a void them that I could not describe in mere words.
His head leaned forward. His body dangled, limp.
"No!" Another scream shredded my throat. Tears blurred the shadows until I couldn't tell where the night ended and the Nyx began.
But my mother didn't stop. Her blade rose again, trembling, defiant. She stabbed and swung with all the strength she had left, a cry of rage and despair echoing in the chaos. The Nyx answered with another tendril, striking faster than I could even see. It pierced her chest, clean through, the sound inhuman and final.
Her scream cut short.
The knife slipped from her hand, clattering to the ground. Stainless, as if it never even touched a nyx.
Then she turned her head. The eyes, still burning with love even as the light faded, found me. Her lips moved. A whisper, faint, torn by blood and shadow, barely reached my ears.
"...Raizen... run..."
The word shattered everything. The world I once thought I knew was broken in an instant
I crawled forward, sobbing, shaking, begging for my body to move faster, to fight, to do something. My arms gave out. My hands clutched the soil as if I could hold the world together by refusing to let go.
Then her body fell. First to her knees, then forward into the earth, beside my father's.