The sun was low in the sky, spilling long golden streaks across the valley. Kaelen carried Rayne carefully, her tiny form wrapped snugly in a large blanket that swaddled her like a bird in a nest. Her small fingers curled against his chest, her violet eyes blinking sleepily up at him.

“I’ll protect you, Rayne,” he whispered aloud, his voice firm with all the conviction of a boy who had already weathered too much. “No one will ever hurt you, I promise.”

The words felt heavier in the quiet than he had imagined. He glanced toward the edge of the property, where the wooden fence marked the beginning of the wild forest beyond. That’s when he noticed them — two women standing just beyond the fence, silent and still. Their gazes lingered, too long, and Kaelen felt a shiver creep down his spine.

Instinctively, he tightened the blanket around Rayne, pressing her closer. He stepped carefully toward the house, keeping his back to the forest. The women didn’t move, just watched, pale faces unreadable. A pit of unease settled in his stomach.

Finally, after a long moment, they turned and walked off, disappearing into the brush as quietly as they had appeared. Kaelen exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the chill that had settled over him.

He turned back toward the fence line, unaware that the women’s silent observation had left a trace of tension behind him. The mound of rune stones sat in a neat line along the fence — small, blackened, etched with symbols of protection and warning. Kaelen didn’t think much of them at first. They had been there for as long as he could remember, a subtle boundary between his home and the forest beyond.

Rayne stirred in his arms, a tiny cry escaping her lips. It was the first time Kaelen had heard her cry — a sharp, clear sound that made his heart lurch. Then, just as quickly, it softened into a wail, and Kaelen’s heart swelled. She was alive. She was real. She was normal.

He smiled, cooing at her, bouncing her gently. “Shh… shh, it’s okay, Rayne. You’re safe. You’re safe with me.” Her small hands reached up to his face, patting at his cheek. He let her, grinning through the fear and uncertainty.

For a moment, the rune stones along the fence were forgotten, their dark warning fading into the background. Kaelen focused entirely on Rayne, carrying her back inside the house with careful steps, a warm pride swelling in his chest. She was his little sister. He would protect her, no matter what.

—

The morning sun filtered weakly through the slats of the loft, casting long shadows across the floor. Kaelen stirred in his small bed, half-asleep, half-worried, glancing at the swaddled bundle of Rayne beside him. Her hair, once stark white at birth, had darkened to a soft slate grey, and it seemed to absorb the light around her, making her tiny head look like a shadow against the pale blankets.

Kaelen’s fingers twitched nervously. “She’s… changing,” he whispered to himself, as if saying it out loud would make it stop. “She’s like the egg… she’s meant to be protected.”

Draven, sitting on the edge of his own bed, frowned. His dark eyes followed his younger brother’s gaze. “Kaelen… don’t hold her so tight,” he muttered, voice low but sharp. “She’s just a baby. If you squeeze her too hard, you could hurt her.”

Kaelen paused, looking down at Rayne, her tiny body curling naturally against his chest. “I… I just want to keep her safe,” he said softly, tightening his arms a little, unwilling to let go.

Draven ran a hand down his face. The rumors had started already. Whispers, quick as shadows, snaking through the village: “A crow’s omen…” “A fae’s influence…” “That child… she’s different.” Even the elders had murmured something when Eira brought Rayne to the long house the other day, a glance at her hair, a shake of a head, quiet words he wasn’t meant to hear.

“I don’t know what to believe,” Draven admitted aloud, though mostly to himself. He wanted to trust his mother, to trust Rayne, but the valley had eyes everywhere. Fear made people sharp and cruel, and he had seen how quickly suspicion could turn to action.

Kaelen tightened his arms around Rayne again, ignoring the gentle scolding. “I don’t care what they say. I’ll protect her. Always,” he insisted, glancing at his brother with fierce determination.

The quiet was broken abruptly when a shout echoed from the village. Draven and Kaelen scrambled to the window, peering through the misty morning air. At the edge of the forest, villagers had gathered around a goat, its body intact but wrong somehow. Its eyes glowed unnaturally bright, a pale yellow that seemed too intelligent for an animal. Mothers whispered for their children to stay back, and the elders muttered among themselves, voices tight with worry.

“The fae,” someone hissed, low enough for the boys to hear. “The curse of the fae… it’s coming.”

Kaelen pressed Rayne closer to his chest, his small hands shaking. She’s like that, he thought. I have to protect her… just like the egg.

Draven’s fists tightened at his sides. He wanted to believe it was only a strange animal, a fluke, something explainable. But the sight of the goat’s unnerving eyes, the hushed panic of the villagers, and the murmured warnings of the elders gnawed at him. Maybe the rumors are true. Maybe something is coming.