Night settled over the Takashiro home like a heavy velvet curtain—quiet, comforting, and familiar. The smell of simmering miso drifted through the wooden walls, mingling with the scent of pine smoke from the hearth. It was peaceful in a way that felt timeless.
Inside, Kaito sat on the tatami floor with Yuki curled against his side, both listening to the rhythmic sound of their mother chopping vegetables.
"Mother," Yuki asked, "why does Father always look tired?"
Their mother paused mid-cut, knife glinting in the warm lantern light. She smiled gently, but there was tension in the way her shoulders stiffened.
"Because he works too hard," she answered. "He cares deeply about people… sometimes too much."
Kaito didn't miss the second meaning.His father wasn't just a follower of the Church—he held a position of respect, trusted to handle ancient texts and lead rituals. Yet lately, his duties seemed less ceremonial and more secretive.
"Mother," Kaito spoke cautiously, "are the old books dangerous?"
She froze.
For a long beat, the only sound was the bubbling pot on the stove.
Then she exhaled, placed the knife down, and walked over. Kneeling in front of both children, she tucked a strand of hair behind Yuki's ear and cupped Kaito's cheek with her other hand.
"Books aren't dangerous," she said softly. "People are."
Her voice trembled just slightly. Kaito felt a cold weight settle in his stomach.
Before he could question her further, the front door slid open.
Rei Takashiro entered, snow melting in his dark hair and on his travel-worn coat. But tonight, he carried something new—a weathered leather scroll case.
Kaito noticed his father's hands were shaking.
"Rei?" his mother whispered. "What happened?"
Rei looked at her, then at the children.
"After dinner," he said. "I'll explain everything after dinner."
The unease clung to the room like frost.
Dinner was quiet. Even Yuki, usually a whirlwind of chatter, ate in subdued silence as she watched her parents exchange troubled glances. When the bowls were cleared, Rei gestured for the children to sit beside him at the low table.
What he pulled from the scroll case was older than anything Kaito had ever seen.
A parchment blackened with age, edges cracked like a dying leaf… yet the ink remained vivid. Symbols in spirals of gold and ink-dark purple twisted across its surface.
The moment it touched the table, the room felt colder.
"Kaito. Yuki." Rei's voice was grave, deeper than usual. "What I'm about to tell you… you must never repeat. Not to your friends, not to the villagers, not even to the shrine elders."
Kaito nodded, throat suddenly dry. Yuki copied him, serious for once.
Rei unrolled the parchment carefully.
"This," he said, "is an original scripture from Erythil. One of the few surviving copies."
Kaito leaned forward. The symbols seemed to pulse faintly, as though alive.
"I found it hidden behind false shelves in the Church archives," Rei continued. "It was sealed away… forbidden."
"Why?" Kaito whispered.
Rei looked directly into his son's eyes.
"Because it contradicts everything we've been taught."
The words hit like a stone dropped into still water.
He pointed to a passage. "This part describes Darkness—not as sin, not as corruption—but as the source of magic and creation. A neutral force. A beginning."
Kaito blinked. "But… the Church says Darkness is evil."
"Yes," Rei said bitterly. "Because long ago, people rewrote the truth. They shaped doctrine to gain control, to unify the villages under fear rather than understanding."
His mother flinched, her eyes darting to the windows as if afraid the shadows themselves were listening.
Rei continued in a hushed tone.
"This text references Ashborn, the Primordial God of Darkness. Not as a devil… but as the first wielder of magic, the guardian of forbidden knowledge."He paused. "Light and Darkness were never meant to oppose each other. They were balance."
Kaito felt a strange pull in his chest—like something ancient was stirring.
"Father…" he murmured, "why show us this?"
Rei hesitated. His expression softened with sadness and pride.
"Because you deserve truth. And because… something is coming. Something the Church is concealing. I don't know what it is yet—but these manuscripts are the key."
He rolled the parchment back up with trembling hands.
Kaito noticed his father wipe a bead of cold sweat from his brow.
Before he could ask more, the paper lanterns flickered.
For a moment, the shadows on the walls twisted unnaturally. Kaito felt an inexplicable chill whisper along his spine.
His mother stood abruptly. "Rei… lock the scroll away. Now."
Rei nodded, rising to obey.
But as he walked toward the storage room, Kaito saw it—the silhouette standing just outside the frosted window.
Tall. Still. Watching.
His heart froze.
Someone had been listening.