Kael sat against a tall tree, his body slick with blood, a sword embedded in the ground beside him. Bodies sprawled across the forest floor as rain drizzled, soaking his clothes. Living among humans had always been tedious; the idea that some lowly ambusher could threaten him was laughable.
He closed his eyes, intending to rest, when the sound of a crying child reached him. His eyebrow twitched. He didn't move—until he felt a tiny hand clutch his.
His eyes snapped open, and his grip tightened on his sword, ready to strike anyone foolish enough to disturb him. But when he looked down, he saw a child staring up at him with wild, uncomprehending eyes—and a smile. Golden hair clung to her soaked face, big watery eyes gleaming. Human, judging by the faint scent—how utterly typical.
With a sigh, Kael impaled his sword into the earth, pushed her away, and attempted to resume his rest. Yet the child leapt at him again, smiling, her small frame clinging as if impervious to his annoyance.
He grabbed her by the clothes and tossed her aside, only to realize they were perilously close to the cliff's edge. She tumbled over, crying—but instinctively, Kael raised a hand, and she floated back up, unharmed. A scratch at most. Carefully, he placed her on the grass and, muttering under his breath, wrapped her in his soaked coat.
Rain poured harder, and he hoisted her into his arms, sword in hand, searching for shelter. Darkness was falling fast, and by the time he found a small cave, the child had already drifted into sleep.
He watched her lying there, tiny and drenched, wrapped in his coat. Something in him twisted—annoyance, maybe… concern? He wasn't sure. He was about to leave, but he found he couldn't. Frowning, he stepped out into the storm, searching for food, anything to warm them both before he had to go.
Kael returned to the spot where he had left the child, only to find a figure lying on the ground. Confused, he dropped the supplies he was carrying. The figure stirred, and with a sharp, impatient motion, Kael kicked them.
The person jerked awake, only to find the tip of a sword pressed dangerously close to their face. Kael's crimson eyes glinted under the dim light of the forest. "Who are you? What are you doing here? And where's the child?" His voice was cold, unyielding.
The figure stammered, voice trembling. "I… I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a boy."
Kael frowned, stepping closer, examining the claim. That delicate body, the slender frame… the bulge confirmed it. And those brown eyes—they were identical to the child's, down to the faint scent that lingered around him.
"A boy?" His voice dropped, deep and commanding, sending a shiver through the figure. "You look like a woman. Are you lying to me? Answer me… or I'll carve your brains out."
His rough hand gripped the pale, smooth chin, feeling the contrast of fragile skin against his battle-scarred fingers. The figure froze under the pressure, cheeks heating, lips quivering.
"I—I'm not lying," the boy whispered. "I… I'm Lilia."
Kael's eyes narrowed as recognition and disbelief flickered across his face. "So… you're the child from earlier?" he muttered, voice low and incredulous. "How is this possible?" He studied Lilia intently, every small motion, every expression. "You… change?"
Lilia blinked, unable to explain, and Kael's grip tightened, forcing a tiny shiver from him. "You're hiding something. I will find out what it is," Kael said, his tone absolute, leaving no room for argument.
Despite the coldness, something stirred inside Kael—a dangerous curiosity, faint but undeniable. He had never met someone like this before. Small, fragile, and yet… unsettlingly bold.
Lilia met his gaze, wide-eyed and trembling, yet there was a strange defiance there. Kael's grip loosened slightly, releasing the chin. He took a step back, but his crimson eyes didn't leave Lilia.
"Stay," Kael commanded, voice low and uncompromising. "Do not move. If you try to run… I will not be so gentle next time."
Lilia's heart raced, not just from fear, but from the intense, suffocating attention. Something about this man was different—dangerous, overwhelming… and utterly captivating.
Kael turned away briefly , he knelt near the small pile of collected wood, arranging it with precise, silent movements. Sparks flew as he struck flint against steel, the flames catching quickly in the damp forest. The fire crackled, casting sharp shadows over his bloodied form and the small figure huddled under his clothes.
Without a word, he gutted a fish he had caught earlier, roasting it over the flames. Lilia watched, wide-eyed, unsure whether to speak or remain still. Kael didn't glance at him, moving with the efficiency of someone used to solitude and survival.
Once the fire died down a little, Kael's crimson eyes flicked to the scratch across Lilia's shoulder. The movement was deliberate, emotionless, almost clinical. He tore a piece of cloth from his coat and cleaned the wound with water from a small flask, pressing it firmly with the same cold detachment one might use to clean a blade.
"Wear this," he said, handing Lilia a short shirt he had been wearing himself. The tone left no room for protest
Lilia hesitated, fumbling with the shirt, but Kael's crimson eyes fixed on him, unyielding. Finally, he slipped it on, still shivering from the rain.
Kael crouched beside the fire, leaning slightly closer. His voice was low, sharp, and unnervingly calm. "Answer me."
Lilia froze. "Answer… what?"
"Why are you here, alone in this forest?" Kael's eyes pierced him. "Why are you dressed like a woman? And… are you cursed?"
Lilia's heart pounded. The questions were direct, relentless, and yet not cruel—though Kael's tone made them feel like threats. He shook his head, trying to explain. "I—I don't know how I ended up here. I… I dress like this… because…" His words stumbled. "I just do."
Kael's hand gripped the edge of his sword beside him. "Just do?" His crimson eyes narrowed. "Do not lie to me. I can tell when someone hides something. Speak clearly, or this ends badly."
Lilia swallowed hard, hesitating. Should he tell him about the curse? Could he? "I… I'm not lying," he whispered finally, voice barely audible. "I… I don't know if I'm… cursed."
Kael studied him, unblinking, expression unreadable. The rain outside had softened to a steady drizzle, the fire flickering between them. "You smell like the child from earlier," Kael said finally. "And those eyes… tell me the truth, or I'll know when you try to hide it."
Lilia's throat went dry. He could feel the weight of Kael's gaze pressing against him, cold and absolute, like ice. He wanted to run, but the exhaustion and wetness kept him rooted.
Kael leaned back slightly, seemingly satisfied for now, though his crimson eyes never left Lilia. "Tomorrow," he said, voice low and final, "I expect answers. Sleep."
Reluctantly, Lilia curled up under the shirt, wrapped himself in Kael's coat, and allowed his eyes to close. Kael remained upright near the fire, silent and watchful, as if guarding both the boy and the dark secret that tethered them together, unwilling to let go—even for a single night.