The night in Kael's village was quiet. Too quiet.
Even the beasts in the woods didn't howl. The wind passed through the trees like it was afraid to touch the ground.
Kaen couldn't sleep.
That symbol — the one on his palm — still burned in his thoughts. He didn't tell anyone. Not even Master Thorne. Not even his mother.
He stared at the ceiling of his small room, his hand wrapped in cloth.
Suddenly, he felt it again.
A gaze.
Someone — or something — was watching.
He sat up, slowly. Then he heard it.
A knock.
Not on the door.
On the window.
He turned. No one was there.
But the window was open now.
And on the floor below it… were three drops of blood.
They weren't his.
---
The next morning, a rumor spread across the village: A scout had gone missing during a night patrol near the western cliff.
Found dead. His body dry, like all blood had been drained.
Kaen listened quietly as others gossiped in fear.
Thorne called him aside. "Stay away from the west for now."
But Kaen wasn't thinking about the west.
He was thinking about the voice.
The voice under the tree. The one that said "You can't hide me forever."
And now… a new whisper.
This time, inside his own head.
"Soon, you'll bleed for real."
---