Shadowblood: The Legacy Of Cursed
Chapter 1: The Blood of Children
The bells of Kaelith Academy rang across the morning air, echoing through the city of Eryndor. Children rushed through narrow streets, carrying wooden swords, training scrolls, and dreams far too big for their small hands.
Among them ran Kairos, his dark hair messy, his wooden blade bouncing on his back. His eyes held a brightness untouched by the world's cruelty. Behind him walked his older brother, Draven, taller, quieter, his gaze sharp enough to pierce stone.
"Wait up, Kairos!" Draven called, but Kairos only laughed.
"You're too slow! Even Master Fenric's turtles could beat you in a race!"
Draven sighed, though a faint smile touched his lips. His little brother had no idea how fragile their peace truly was.
---
Inside the academy courtyard, instructors barked lessons. Children swung blades, practiced spells, and laughed when one of them tripped over his own staff.
To outsiders, it looked like play. To the elders, it was survival. Every generation studied combat not for sport, but to prepare for something whispered in legends — the curse of the bloodlines.
"Defense is not a game," the instructor warned. "Your families sacrificed for you to be here. Never forget that blood carries a price."
Most children barely listened. To them, curses were stories to frighten little ones at night.
---
At lunch, Kairos sat beneath a tree, chewing dumplings from the small shop near the gates. A girl with pale eyes and a gentle smile sat beside him. Mira.
"You eat too fast," she teased, taking one dumpling from his box.
"Hey! That's mine!" Kairos pouted, but she only laughed.
"You'll be strong one day, Kairos," she said softly. "Maybe the strongest. And when that happens… I'll be cheering for you."
Kairos froze. His face burned red. Words tangled on his tongue, so he shoved another dumpling in his mouth instead. Mira laughed again, and for a moment, the world felt simple.
From the training yard, Draven watched. He said nothing, but a storm stirred behind his eyes.
---
That night, as the brothers walked home, the streets grew silent. Their house, once warm with lamplight, felt colder. Inside, their mother coughed, blood staining her handkerchief. She quickly hid it when Kairos entered.
"Welcome home, my loves," she said with a smile too soft to be real.
Kairos hugged her tightly, chattering about his day. Draven stood in the doorway, silent. He saw the red-stained cloth she tucked beneath the table. He saw her trembling hands.
Their father was already gone. The curse had taken him months ago. On his deathbed, he had whispered something only Draven heard:
> "Protect Kairos. No matter what. The blood will hunt him… but you must not let it claim him."
Draven clenched his fists as those words echoed again.
---
Later that night, Kairos and Draven lay on their straw mats.
"Draven," Kairos whispered, "do you think the curse is real?"
Draven turned away, hiding his trembling hands in the dark.
"No… it's just a story. Go to sleep."
But Kairos did not sleep. He stared at the wooden ceiling, dreaming of becoming a hero, while Draven lay awake, knowing that dreams could turn to shadows in an instant.
---
Outside, the wind carried faint whispers.
And in the distance, where no light touched, the Shadow Bloodline stirred.
---
End of Chapter One
—