Important: The main character is a transman who accepts his female body. This story will contain explicit sexual scenes and descriptions that may cause gender dysphoria to some readers. This story is intended for a mature audience.

Prologue

“The child born from a witch will bring destruction to the Kingdom. A wave of evil and darkness will wash away the lands and purge everything in its wake. The only way to stop this plague is to kill the cursed child.”

Those were the last words uttered by the oracle before she died in her sleep.

The First Queen of Cahayaranga of the South ordered a witch hunt, leading to the death of many innocent people and children. Those who practised minor religion, those who were outcast by the villagers, those who expressed their disdain of the royalties were captured and executed as a warning to the public.

Do not question the Royal Bloodline.

Do not hide the cursed child.

Soon enough, the gallows were soaked in red, the smell of death seeped into the back alleys.

Acknowledging the severity of the oracle’s words and with the reluctance of bearing the risks of negligence, the other four kingdoms, Lekasi of the Central, Shewei of the East, Balklanak of the North, and Agreya of the West, did the same and stained their swords with blood.

Please, Your Majesty. Kill me all the same, but please spare my child!

But the Kings and Queens gave the victims no second glance as they burned on the stakes.

To protect themselves, people accused each other of treachery and witchcraft. Villages that once used to boast harmonious lives and unity fell apart with the simplest words thrown into the air.

Flames consumed the houses. Mountains of corpses filled the land, turning the soil black.

There were no Bloodline discriminations to suspicions. Between a common Mouse Bloodline and a rare Leopard Bloodline, if a person was suspected or accused of witchcraft, they were taken to the guillotine, one swing after another, like the rise and fall of the crimson sun in the far horizon.

Fear ruled the people.

Blood drenched the lands.

Years passed.

No plague destroyed the continent and the witch hunt eventually died down.

As the generations lived on, the words of the oracle were soon forgotten.

And as if it was an existence made out of misfortune and evil, the cursed child was never found.

Chapter 1

Darkness.

The moment he opened his eyes, darkness greeted him, followed by echoing screams in the distance, screeching, grating noise akin to the gurgles of a dying animal. He reached out and pushed against the wall in front of him, breaking it and shrinking back at the dim light filtering through. The smell of earth. And blood.

Fear.

He shoved his way out of the bindings cocooning him and fell onto the ground with a loud thud. White threads clung onto his pale body and light pink hair. His bare feet and thighs scratched against the rocks, each miniscule pebble dug into his skin like a reminder of what physical pain felt like and a sudden chill ran across his naked back, whispering to his instincts of how vulnerable he was. A cold sensation in his grip was the only thing that grounded him to reality. He slowly unclenched his fist to reveal a metal identity tag which read:

Fuxiao
Combat Medic Unit

Fuxiao.

…Is this my name?

He glanced at the corpse next to him. The slender body lay motionless with a large gash across their neck. Bright crimson stained the ghastly face and a silver rose hair pin hung loose in the braided blond hair.

What is happening? Where am I?

And just then, a loud screech snapped his attention back to the scene in front of him.

A monster.

A gigantic body of black mass with a gruesome wooden mask protruding where its face should be. The mask was held onto the body by thick veins, distorting its boar-like features. Multiple vacant eyes stared at nothing. Grotesque fangs lined its jaws where globs of black matter dribbled down and sizzled the dirt floor. A monster so huge, it almost reached the ceiling of the rocky cave.

Smaller monsters scrambled across the shadows of the cave, fangs clicking, claws clattering, and with a snarl, they jumped at the group of soldiers bunched together.

“Do not fear the hudoqs!” The leader yelled. “As long as we fight and survive, we’ll get out of here!”

“Leader, Fuxiao is–”

“Pay attention!” Brown fur appeared around the leader’s eyes as his Brown Bear Bloodline awakened. His muscles bulged, power coursing through his body and he slashed at a hudoq, “Everyone! Into Bloodrush now! We have to keep fighting!”

Against their fear, the soldiers’ Bloodlines manifested and took over their bodies to fight. Visual markings of their Bloodlines flared around their faces, regressing them closer to their ancestral animals and giving them the abilities to protect themselves. But it was clear that they had no chance against the monsters. Every animal instinctively knew when they couldn’t fight against a predator and when the undeniable time came, their Bloodline could only freeze in fear.

The giant boar hudoq pulled apart its jaws and spewed out a torrent of black matter which burned the soldiers’ bodies upon contact. Screams echoed throughout the cave. Screams of the intense pain destroying their bodies, and screams of dying animals begging to survive.

The only word that could describe the scene was Hell.

A nest of monsters devouring the preys that had walked into their territory.

His heart thumped in his chest, ringing in his ears like warning bells telling him to

Get out of here!

He didn’t know where he was, who these people were, or what the hudoqs were, but the only thing he knew was the danger looming and the need to escape.

Run!

Carefully, he got to his feet, grabbed the white robe off the corpse and held it tight against his breasts. He kept low to the ground as he hurried off. The cave, while crowded with hudoqs, was simply a rocky nest with uneven terrains. Low ceilings and dark holes in the walls. The only light filtering in was from a tunnel on the other side of the battle.

One entrance, one exit.

This nest was a trap for unsuspecting prey.

He stayed close to the wall and shadows, controlling his breathing so neither the hudoqs or soldiers could notice him. One step at a time. Carefully. Quietly.

But just before he reached the exit of the cavern, multiple white eyes stared down at him from the dark ceiling. A cluster of bat hudoqs peered at him.

He couldn’t breathe.

Animals would freeze in fear.

But fear also drove another instinct within.

Flight.

He jumped to his feet and before his mind could think of anything else, he bolted out of the cavern into the tunnel, leaving the soldiers in the midst of hell.

But escape was never easy.

The hudoqs crashed through the tunnel right on his heels. They skittered and clattered, screeching and shrieking in a nauseating noise that struck him in the guts.

Sharp rocks crumbled under him. Breathing hurt. He took whatever first turn he reached, not caring where it would lead to. All he needed was to get away from the monsters behind him. The tunnel grew smaller, forcing the monsters to crash into the walls, caving themselves in. And even when the hudoqs could no longer chase him, he didn’t stop running.

It felt like forever.

The drumming of his heart was the only sign telling him that he was still alive.

His breaths came out in short steady bursts and his dark eyes solely focused ahead of him, driven by the primal instincts to escape and survive.

A light gleamed at the end of the tunnel. Wind fluttered his short pink hair. He sucked in the air, willing his legs to keep on running, just a bit more.

And finally, he stepped out into the open, his bare feet kicking sand. The sudden flood of light hit him to a full halt.

Rocky mountains stretched across the dry lands in the horizons. A warm breeze carried dust and the scent of earth from the multiple sand dunes sitting between cliffs. The landscape was a dull colour against his light pink hair and pure white robe.

His feet stumbled on the dirt as he slowed down to a jog, leaving behind the dark towering cave, the hudoqs’ nest.

He took in a deep breath to calm his nerves but it didn’t last long.

Fear still bubbled inside him.

He needed to leave.

Go as far away as he could.

But where?

He had no memories, no destination, no one. He was alone after leaving those people to die in the cave. He had no one to rely on but himself.

The cave behind burst open as a large hudoq crashed through, sending rocks into the air, looming over him. A giant monster ten times his size. A giant monster with fangs that cut through rocks. The loud screech startled him but another instinct roared to life.

If an animal was backed to a corner with nowhere to escape, then it had to

Fight.

Kill.

Blood rushed through his entire body and his senses amplified to a level that shook his core. The sides of his face cracked and morphed. Vertical sets of three black gemstones rolled open underneath his eyes and the surging inside burst forth as bright white energy surrounded him. Like wings unfurling to take flight, the energy spread into glowing threads, poised to attack.

The hudoq roared and hurled itself towards him. But he didn’t take a step aside. Instead, the threads spiralled together into hardened spears and without missing a beat, they pierced through the hudoq.

He breathed in, willing the spears to twist and stab the hudoq again, and again, and again, criss-crossing and rendering any futile movement useless.

By the time his heartbeat settled down, the hudoq’s black body was a lattice of glowing threads.

He straightened his posture, glancing up at the giant monster. The gemstones on his face rolled in anticipation and when he finally breathed out, the threads ripped apart the monster from the inside out.

Pieces of the hudoq’s body splattered to the ground. Where the black matter fell, the soil dried up and cracked.

Silence settled in.

He stood alone in the rocky desert, studying the monster’s corpse and what had become of himself. His blood was steady.

Cold.

The fear had passed.

His heartbeat slowed down to a rest even when his mind still couldn’t comprehend what just transpired.

The dry air danced around him like a mocking whisper of his forgotten identity. What he was capable of, who he was, what he had to do now, all lay under a blanket of mystery that he had no way of knowing.

But it didn’t matter.

No.

As long as he survived and lived another day, it didn’t matter.

He closed his eyes, took another deep breath. The sound of his pulse. The rhythmic flow of his blood. The air rippled and the marks on his face dissipated.

When an animal was thrusted into an unknown environment, complicated things didn’t matter. All it needed to do was fight to survive and live another day.

-

A distance away, a man with a black cloak stood atop a large rock, the remains of a hudoq crushed under his feet. His senses perked up at the shift of the stagnant air. Rough black hair fluttered in the breeze.

In this empty wasteland, something was calling him. Something had woken up, calling for his Bloodline to return home, to return to his origin.