Kael woke up to his mother's voice drifting up to his room through the floorboards.
"Kael, come downstairs."
He blinked at the ceiling beams, still caught between sleep and waking. The morning light poured through the small circular window above his bed, warm and golden. It was his tenth birthday, and he had almost forgotten.
He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. The nightmares had stopped a few days ago, just like they always did right before his birthday. That was normal. His mother said it was part of growing up—something about the body changing as you got older. He didn't really understand it, but he still trusted her words.
She called again, but softer this time. "Kael."
"Coming," he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed.
He stood and stretched, his worn brown shirt hanging loose on his small frame. It was time for the ritual. She always did it on his birthday. Every single year for as long as he could remember.
Kael padded barefoot down the narrow staircase, with one hand trailing along the wooden rail his father had carved before he was born. At the bottom, his mother stood waiting near the fireplace.
The chalk circle was already drawn on the floor.
It glowed faintly in the morning light—intricate patterns and symbols that looked almost like they were alive. He'd seen it so many times that he didn't even think about it anymore. It was now just part of the routine.
His mother looked up as he stepped off the last stair. Her dark hair was pulled back in a braid, and her warm brown eyes softened when they met his.
"Good morning."
"Morning, Mom."
She gestured toward the circle. "Come. Sit."
Kael crossed the room without hesitation and pulled off his shirt, tossing it onto the back of a nearby chair. The air was cool against his skin, but the fire crackled softly beside him, warming the space.
He sat down cross-legged in the center of the chalk circle with his back facing his mother.
There was a mark—dark lines forming a strange symbol right in the center of his back. He was told that it was a birthmark. Something he was born with. It didn't hurt or anything, so he never thought much about it.
His mother knelt behind him, her hands hovering just above his shoulders.
"Ready?"
"Yeah."
She took a slow breath, and Kael felt the shift in the air. It pressing down around him, making it feel like the room was holding its breath.
Golden light began to glow beneath her palms. The chalk circle on the floor lit up, glowing brighter and brighter until the entire design shined like the sun. The lines pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, and Kael watched the light spread across the floorboards, creeping up the walls in delicate patterns.
Then his mother placed her hand on his back. The mark flared to life.
Purple light burst from the symbol, spreading across his skin like roots digging through soil. It crawled up his spine, over his shoulders, down his arms—intricate lines tracing paths he couldn't see but could feel.
And then came the sharp sting. Like a needle pressing into his skin.
Kael winced. He curled fingers into fists against his knees, but remained still. It was always like this, and all he had to do was wait it out.
His mother's hand remained steady on his back, her magic flowing through the mark in controlled waves. The golden circle around them pulsed—and then the purple glow began to fade.
The lines retreated, pulling back into the symbol at the center of his back. The light dimmed and the weight lifted.
And just like that, it was over.
Kael exhaled slowly, relaxing his shoulders. The sting feeling was now gone. The mark went dark again, dormant.
His mother pulled her hand away and rested it on his shoulder instead, her touch warm and gentle.
"Happy birthday, Kael."
He turned his head and grinned up at her. "Thanks, Mom."
She smiled back, but there was exhaustion in her eyes. He didn't understand it, but he didn't ask either. She always looked like that after the ritual.
Kael grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on, standing up and brushing off his knees.
"So… do I get my gift now?"
His mother let out a quiet laugh and reached into the small pouch at her waist. Then she pulled out something wrapped in cloth and held it out to him.
"Here."
Kael took it carefully, unwrapping the fabric to reveal a necklace.
His eyes widened.
The pendant was incredible—dark metal shaped like a dragon with its wings spread wide. At the center sat a black gemstone that gleamed faintly in the firelight. The craftsmanship was detailed, almost too detailed.
He'd never seen anything like it.
"Whoa…"
"It's for extra protection," his mother said, her voice steady but warm. "Always put it on."
Kael didn't even hesitate. He slipped the cord over his head and let the pendant rest against his chest. It felt heavier than he expected, solid and real.
He looked up at her, his grin splitting his face. "This is amazing, Mom. Thank you!"
Before she could respond, he threw his arms around her and planted a quick peck on her cheek.
She laughed softly and hugged him back, her arms wrapping around his small frame. "You're welcome, sweetheart."
Kael pulled back, already bouncing on his heels. "Can I go now? Eren and Torin are probably already at the tree."
His mother hesitated, her smile fading just a little.
"Stay close to the village today, alright? Don't wander too far."
"I know, I know. I won't cross the boundary."
"Promise?"
He rolled his eyes but grinned. "I promise."
She studied him for a moment longer, then nodded.
"Alright. Go on."
Kael didn't need to be told twice. He bolted for the door, his bare feet slapping against the wooden floor as he grabbed his worn shoes by the entrance.
"Love you, Mom!" he called over his shoulder.
"I love you too," she replied quietly.
But by the time the words left her lips, he was already gone.
Kael burst through the cottage door and took off running. His bare feet hit the dirt path, kicking up small clouds of dust as he sprinted toward the village center. The pendant bounced against his chest with every step, solid and reassuring. He couldn't stop grinning.
Ten years old. Finally.
The village was already awake. Smoke curled from chimneys. Voices drifted through open windows. A cart creaked past, loaded with freshly cut timber.
"Morning, Kael!" called a woman hanging laundry outside her cottage.
"Morning!" he shouted back without slowing.
An older man sitting on his porch raised a hand. "Happy birthday, boy!"
Kael waved but didn't stop. He had places to be.
He cut past the woodworking workshop, where the rhythmic thunk of hammers echoed through the open doors. The smell of oak shavings filled the air—sharp and earthy. A few of the craftsmen glanced up as he flew past, grinning at his speed.
The great oak tree rose ahead, its massive branches spreading wide over the village square. The trunk was thick enough that it would take four grown men holding hands to circle it. Its roots broke through the ground in twisted knots, and its leaves rustled softly in the morning breeze.
Eren and Torin were already there.
Eren sat perched on one of the lower branches, legs dangling as he leaned back against the trunk. His black hair stuck up in every direction, and his grin was wide and reckless. He wore a patched shirt that looked like it had seen better days, but he didn't seem to care.
Torin stood at the base of the tree, adjusting his glasses nervously. His black hair was neatly bobbed, falling just above his shoulders, and his clothes were cleaner than Eren's but just as simple. He held a small wooden stick in one hand, scratching patterns into the dirt.
"Took you long enough!" Eren called down.
Kael slowed to a jog, breathing hard. "Mom made me do the ritual first."
"The birthday thing?" Eren wrinkled his nose. "That's so weird."
"It's not weird," Kael shot back, climbing onto the lowest root. "It's just… tradition or something."
Torin glanced up, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. "Did it hurt?"
"A little. But it's over now." Kael grabbed a branch and pulled himself up beside Eren. "So what are we doing today?"
Eren's grin widened. "I have an idea."
Torin groaned. "Of course you do."
"What?" Eren spread his arms wide. "Of course it's a good idea."
"Your ideas always get us in trouble," Torin muttered.
"That's what makes them good." Eren leaned forward, with gleaming eyes. "Listen. You know those two women who always tell on us?"
Kael raised an eyebrow. "The ones from last week?"
"Exactly." Eren pointed toward the dirt path leading past the tree. "They walk by here every morning around this time. We hide up here, wait for them to pass, then jump out and scare them."
Torin frowned. "That's your plan? Just… yell at them?"
"Not just yell. We scream like fiends." Eren demonstrated, throwing his arms wide and letting out a mock roar.
Kael laughed. "That's actually pretty good."
"See? Kael gets it." Eren clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, Torin. It'll be funny."
Torin sighed, pushing his glasses up again. "If we get caught—"
"We won't get caught," Eren said confidently. "We're demon hunters, remember? Stealth is what we do."
"We're not demon hunters," Torin said flatly. "We're ten."
"Details." Eren was already climbing higher into the tree, finding a branch with a better view of the path. "Come on. They'll be here any minute."