The night sky over the Heliodor Region was unlike any other place in the world. Half of the heavens glowed in eternal daylight, where the last fragments of the sun still shone. The other half bled with shadow, where the Eclipse reigned supreme. Between them, a jagged line divided day and night—a scar across the Earth that had never healed since the Fall.
Levi Arclight often stood on the roof of his family's small cottage, gazing at that unnatural divide. To the east, he could see the faint outline of a Light Pillar in the distance, blazing like a star that had been anchored to the ground. Its golden glow was a promise of safety, a promise he and his parents had chosen not to trust.
"Father says those pillars are nothing more than cages," Levi whispered to himself, staring at the glow. "Cages that shine."
At only twelve years old, Levi was unusually thoughtful. He was a quiet boy, dark-haired and sharp-eyed, always more curious than his parents liked. They warned him never to wander too far from the cottage, never to stray too close to the shadowed half of the world, never to speak to strangers who came offering "contracts."
And above all, never to mention the Eclipseborn.
He didn't understand what that word truly meant. He only knew the way his parents grew pale whenever the word was spoken, as if the sound itself could summon monsters from the dark.
That evening, the house smelled of stew. His mother, Elira, stirred the pot over the hearth, while his father, Ardan, polished an old blade at the table. Levi sat by the window, sketching the strange divide in the sky.
"You'll break the quill if you press that hard," Elira said gently.
"I want it to look real," Levi muttered, chewing his lip. "Like it's splitting the sky in half."
Ardan glanced up, his jaw tightening. "Don't draw it so often, boy. The more you look at it, the more it looks back."
Levi frowned. His father's words rarely made sense, but there was always weight in them.
That was when it happened.
The air changed. A chill seeped through the wooden walls, extinguishing the warmth of the hearth. The stew pot hissed as the flames faltered, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Then came the sound.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Knuckles rapped against the door.
It was late. Too late for visitors. The nearest settlement was miles away, and no traveler would dare cross the Divide after dusk.
Elira froze, ladle in hand. Ardan's grip tightened on his blade.
"Levi," his father said slowly, his voice a whisper edged with steel. "Go upstairs. Hide under the bed. Do not come out until I call you."
Levi's heart began to hammer. "But—"
"Now."
He obeyed. His legs trembled as he scrambled up the creaking stairs, crawling beneath the bed in his small room. Dust clung to his nose and lips, and he pressed a hand over his mouth to muffle his breathing.
From below, he heard the door creak open. His father's voice, stern. "Who goes there?"
A silence. Then a reply—smooth, distorted, dripping with amusement.
"Just a traveler, good sir. Lost between night and day."
Levi shivered. The voice didn't sound human. It stretched like a shadow, curling around the words.
His mother's voice followed, sharp with fear. "Leave this place. You have no claim here."
The stranger laughed. A sound that made Levi's skin crawl.
"No claim? But everything under shadow belongs to us. And tonight, the shadow has chosen you."
The sound of wood splintering rang through the cottage. Furniture crashed. His father roared, steel clashing against something that screeched like claws raking stone.
Levi couldn't stay hidden. His chest felt like it was going to burst. Crawling out from under the bed, he crept to the stairwell and peered down.
What he saw would burn into his mind forever.
Two figures stood in the broken doorway. One was tall and gaunt, its body stretched unnaturally thin, its skin rippling like smoke. Its eyes glowed red, burning like twin coals in the night. The other was hunched and feral, its mouth gaping too wide, filled with teeth that gleamed wetly in the dim light.
Nightborn.
He had heard the word whispered in stories, but never imagined they could be real.
His father swung his blade, golden sparks flying as steel met shadow. The thin one dodged with inhuman grace, laughing. The hunched one leapt, crashing into Ardan and sending him sprawling.
Elira screamed, hurling the boiling stew into its face. Steam hissed. The Nightborn shrieked, clawing at its flesh—but the damage was brief, and its gaze turned toward her with murderous hunger.
"No!" Levi cried, his voice breaking.
The thin one's head snapped up, eyes locking onto him at the top of the stairs.
"There he is," it purred. "The boy. The one we came for."
Before Levi could run, the creature blurred. One moment it stood at the door, the next it was beside him, shadow stretching across the wall like wings. A hand—cold, clawed, impossibly strong—clamped over his face.
Ardan's roar echoed. "Let him go!"
Steel struck. The clawed hand jerked, slicing across Levi's eyes. White-hot pain exploded through his skull. He screamed, thrashing, but the world was already fading into darkness.
The last thing he saw was his mother falling to the floor, her lifeless eyes staring upward.
Then came silence.
And then came the whispers.
Levi awoke in a world of black. Not the soft black of closed eyes, but a living darkness that shifted and writhed. He felt himself floating, weightless, as shapes moved around him. They were monstrous, jagged forms that clawed at the edges of sight—yet he could see them, even without eyes.
"You are ours now," a thousand voices murmured, overlapping in a chorus of shadow.
Levi screamed.
But no sound came.
When he awoke again, he was lying on the floor of the cottage. The smell of blood and smoke choked the air. His father's body lay twisted near the hearth. His mother's hand stretched lifelessly toward him.
Levi reached for them, tears streaming down his ruined face. But when he touched the ground, he realized his hands were trembling—not from weakness, but from something else.
The world was no longer dark.
He could see.
But not like before.
Everything was layered in shades of shadow and light, as if two realities overlapped. He could see the lingering glow of the Light Pillar in the distance, but also the tendrils of shadow writhing around it. He could see faint silhouettes moving beyond the walls—shapes not of this world, crawling in the dark.
And worst of all… he could still hear them.
The whispers.
"You belong to us now."
Levi stumbled outside, clutching his face. The night air bit cold, but it was the sky that drew his gaze.
The Divide above him seemed sharper, brighter, more alive. The eternal sun burned with searing brilliance to the east, while the eclipse glared red to the west. And for the first time in his life, Levi felt both burning inside him.
He screamed at the sky.
But the only answer was the whispering chorus of shadows, laughing softly in his mind.
End of Chapter 1Preview of Chapter 2 – Under the Pillar's Light
Levi awakens days later, rescued by strangers who carry him toward the Light Pillar's sanctuary. But within the city's radiant glow, not everyone welcomes him. The priests sense corruption in his soul, and whispers of "Eclipseborn" begin to spread.
And as Levi struggles to hide the truth of his new sight, a familiar shadow watches him from the city walls…
Next time: Levi learns that sometimes, the brightest light casts the darkest shadows.