The storm raged outside the old mansion, rain lashing against the windows as thunder cracked through the night sky. Wild animals howled in the distance, their cries echoing like omens of something yet to come.
Inside, a child's cry pierced through the storm. The midwives exchanged relieved glances, one of them whispering, "Madam has given birth to a healthy boy."
On the bed lay Sebrina, pale and exhausted, her body weakened by the ordeal. Yet her lips curved into a soft smile as she whispered to the maid, "Let me see my son."
The maid carefully placed the infant in her trembling arms. Sebrina's eyes softened, filled with warmth as she cradled the tiny life she had brought into the world.
But then… the child stirred. His eyelids fluttered open for the first time.
And Sebrina's breath caught in her throat.
Those were not the eyes of an ordinary child. They glowed faintly—dark, swirling, endless—like a shadow given life.
Sebrina's smile faltered, her heart torn between love and fear. She held her son closer, whispering to herself:"This child… is different."
Sebrina's hands trembled as she gazed into her son's strange, shadow-touched eyes. She was not sure what to do, torn between motherly love and a rising dread.
Before she could speak, the doors to her chamber burst open. A guard, bloodied and breathless, staggered inside.
"Madam!" he cried, his voice strained with urgency. "The Elethels… they've attacked the city!"
Sebrina's heart froze. The Elethels—monstrous beings from another dimension—were nightmares made flesh, creatures that thrived on slaughtering humans. Their sudden raids left nothing but ruin and silence behind.
The storm outside seemed to grow louder, as though echoing the chaos beyond the mansion walls. Sebrina clutched her newborn tightly, her body weak but her will unyielding. She whispered to the child, her words almost lost in the thunder:
"My son… born into shadow, and into war."
The guard raised his sword, his face pale with fear. "We must leave at once, Madam! The city won't hold for long!"
Sebrina looked down at her baby again. His tiny fingers curled around hers, his dark eyes unblinking, as though he already understood the world he had entered.
Outside, the howls of the Elethels drew nearer.
Sebrina's breath was shallow, but her resolve was iron. She turned to her most trusted maid."Lisa," she whispered, her voice trembling yet firm, "take him. Run. Head opposite the Elethels' path, and no matter what happens… make sure my son lives."
Tears welled in Lisa's eyes as she nodded. "Madam… what about you?"
Sebrina unclasped the silver necklace from around her neck—a family heirloom, glowing faintly even in the stormlight. She slipped it carefully over the child's tiny shoulders.
"My child," she murmured, her voice breaking, "you must live at all costs. I don't know what powers you carry within you, but one day… you must use them to protect this world, not to harm it."
The baby stirred, his dark eyes opening again. He raised his tiny hand and wrapped his fingers around Sebrina's. For a moment, it was as if he was pleading with her—asking her not to let go.
Sebrina's tears fell freely, but she forced a smile. "Forgive me, my son… but your path is greater than mine."
With a trembling breath, she placed him into Lisa's arms. "Go. Now!"
Lisa clutched the child tightly to her chest and fled into the storm, her footsteps swallowed by the thunder and the distant roars of the Elethels.
Sebrina watched them vanish into the night. Her heart ached, but her resolve did not waver. If her son was to live, she would have to stand and face what came next.
Outside, the monstrous cries drew closer.
Lisa's legs burned as she ran deeper into the forest, branches slashing across her arms, rain soaking her hair. The child's warmth against her chest was the only thing giving her strength to push forward.
Then—A growl cut through the storm.
From the shadows between the trees, an Elethel emerged. Its monstrous form twisted unnaturally, eyes glowing with hunger as it sniffed the air. Though Lisa froze, heart hammering, the creature's gaze darted past her, confused. The child's dark aura wrapped them like a veil, masking their presence.
But instinct or fury drove the beast forward. With a roar, it lunged.
Lisa screamed, thrusting out her hand. Water surged from the rain-soaked air, forming a sphere around the creature. It howled and thrashed, but the watery prison held firm, tightening until its movements slowed, its shrieks drowning in its own suffocation.
Panting, Lisa released the spell. The beast collapsed lifelessly into the mud.
Her strength was fading, but she didn't stop. She ran. Through the storm, through the night, stumbling over roots and rocks. Her body cried for rest, but Sebrina's last words rang in her ears: "At all costs."
At last, as dawn's pale light touched the horizon, a village came into view. Smoke rose from chimneys, the promise of safety after a night of terror.
Lisa staggered to the nearest house, her body battered and bloodied. She knocked weakly on the door before collapsing to her knees, the child still pressed against her.
The door creaked open. An old blacksmith, broad-shouldered and silver-haired, stared in shock at the sight—a wounded maid clutching a baby.
"Please…" Lisa gasped, her voice breaking. "Help us. We have nowhere else to run…"
The old man looked down at the infant, then back at Lisa. Without a word, he scooped the child into his strong arms and ushered them inside.
The storm faded behind them, but in its wake, the legacy of darkness had just found a new beginning.
The old man laid Lisa gently on a wooden cot, his calloused hands surprisingly careful as he cleaned her wounds. "Drink," he said, pressing a cup of water into her trembling hands.
Lisa obeyed, though her eyes never left the bundle in her arms. Fear gnawed at her. If this stranger discovered the truth about the boy—the strange eyes, the darkness within—would he see him as a child… or a monster?
Her worst fear nearly came true. The baby stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Lisa froze. But instead of the swirling darkness she had seen before, his gaze was ordinary now, no different from any human child. Then he began to cry, soft and desperate, as if pleading for food.
The old man frowned but stood. "Wait here. I'll fetch something for him."
When he returned, he handed Lisa a small bottle of milk. Relief washed over her as she fed the boy, his cries fading into soft, contented breaths. For a fleeting moment, he looked completely innocent—just a baby in need of care.
The man sat heavily on a chair beside the fire, watching her. "I'm Alfred," he said at last, his voice deep and steady. "I've lived in this village for twenty years. Tell me—why have you come here in such a state?"
Lisa hesitated, then whispered the truth. "The Elethels… they attacked our city."
The cup in Alfred's hand slipped, spilling water across the floor. His eyes went wide, shock overtaking his weathered face.
"That's… impossible," he muttered. "The Elethels were destroyed twenty-two years ago. I fought in that war myself. Since then, peace has held—no raids, no signs of their return." He leaned forward, his gaze sharp. "And now you say they've come back? Out of nowhere?"
Lisa nodded weakly, her grip tightening on the child.
Alfred's expression darkened. "If what you say is true… then this is no mere raid. It's a warning. The sign of a new war."
The fire crackled between them, casting long shadows across the room. Lisa lowered her gaze to the baby in her arms, who slept peacefully, unaware of the storm his very existence had already begun to stir.