The wind whispered through the ruins of a once-peaceful village.

Lanterns flickered in the night, casting trembling light over shattered homes and bloodstained earth.

A boy stood among the rubble.

Kael.

His eyes—far too old for someone so young—stared at the smoldering remains of what once was his home.

Smoke curled in the air. Silence pressed in on him, heavier than the darkness.

The bodies of those he loved lay broken.

The scent of death and ash clung to his skin like a curse.

In the distance, flames still licked at the sky.

Somewhere deep in his mind, a scream echoed—a memory from moments ago.

Then, a figure.

A silhouette moving through fire. Tall. Unfazed. Familiar.

Kael’s body froze.

His voice never came.

The figure turned its head slightly, acknowledging him with a cold gaze… and vanished.

He didn’t cry. He didn’t scream.

He walked.

And the silence followed.

Years passed.

Kael wandered the wasteland—older now, hardened by loss.

A sword strapped to his back. A jagged mark burned into his right hand, like a promise that refused to fade.

Villages whispered of something called the Umbra—a force in the shadows.

A name that made grown men shiver. Children were told never to speak it after dark.

Kael didn’t fear the Umbra.

Not because he was brave—

But because fear was something he had buried a long time ago.

One evening, as the sun dipped behind broken cliffs, he heard screams.

Bandits had ambushed a caravan.

Torchlight twisted into monstrous shadows.

Kael moved without thought.

Silent. Sharp. Deadly.

By the time the raiders realized someone had arrived, it was too late.

The clash of metal rang out briefly. Then—silence.

Bodies dropped.

The survivors trembled.

“Who… what are you?” one asked, barely able to stand.

Kael sheathed his blade.

“Not a hero. Just someone passing through.”

He walked away before they could thank him.

Days later, his strength failed him.

A wound had gone untreated.

Blood soaked his shirt.

He collapsed on a forest path.

The trees around him—silent witnesses.

And then… a glow.

Soft. Golden. A hand pressed to his wound.

Gentle energy pulsed through his body.

He opened his eyes and saw her.

Rin.

Eyes like starlight. Voice like calm water.

“You don’t speak much,” she said gently, not moving away.

Kael coughed, barely able to sit.

“There’s not much to say.”

Rin smiled faintly, a hint of sadness behind it.

“Then maybe I’ll stay quiet with you.”

That night, she remained by his side.

She didn’t ask questions.

She didn’t try to fix him with words.

And for the first time in years—Kael didn’t feel completely alone.

But sleep brought no peace.

That night, Kael dreamed of fire.

A black flame erupted from his chest, devouring everything around him.

He screamed, but no sound came.

Shadows danced like demons.

A voice echoed inside his skull:

“Burn… or be broken.”

He saw faces—his mother, his father, the silhouette from that night—

staring as the world crumbled.

Kael awoke with a gasp, drenched in sweat.

His mark glowed faintly, pulsing with dark energy.

And then… light.

A being hovered above him.

Radiant. Alive.

Lux.

A spirit of pure energy. It shimmered like a star.

Its voice was neither male nor female—just soft. Eternal.

“You carry something cursed,” it said. “But also… something chosen.”

Kael’s eyes were heavy.

“Then why does it feel like I was left behind?”

Lux hovered in silence, as if searching for an answer.

It didn’t find one.

And so the three of them—Kael, Rin, and Lux—remained there, beneath a starless sky.

The world had forgotten what heroes looked like.

But Kael wasn’t here to be a hero.

He was here to survive.

And to burn.