The night was drenched in a suffocating silence, the kind that weighed on the chest like a curse. The forest was alive — whispering, breathing, watching. Damián's breath came in sharp bursts, his heart pounding so violently that it echoed in his ears like the beating of a war drum. The Joua stood before him — a nightmare stitched together by gods with no mercy, its massive eye gleaming like a dying sun. The earth seemed to bend beneath its presence, the air trembling as if reality itself feared it.
Damián looked at the creature, despair flooding his veins like venom. He turned toward Axir — the old man stood tall and composed, his face eerily calm, eyes glinting with the quiet cruelty of someone who had seen countless horrors and learned to smile at them. Axir's tone was sharp, cutting through the suffocating air."Kill this creature, boy. Show me that you are worthy of an Ecliptica!"
The words struck Damián like lightning. Kill it? His mind screamed. His body refused. Fear shackled his legs. The Joua moved with a disturbing grace, vanishing into smoke before reappearing right before him. Damián stumbled backward, dirt splashing beneath his boots. His voice cracked, trembling like a dying flame.What kind of human being deserves all this? Why me? Why always me? I wish I'd died the day I was born!
"Find your purpose, son!" Axir's voice boomed behind him, commanding, divine, like an echo from the heavens themselves.
Damián clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms until blood dripped down. Purpose? he thought, his eyes burning. I don't have one. But maybe… maybe I can make one. Maybe I can prove that I am not just nothing, but something. Still less than everything—but more than the void.
The Joua let out a guttural screech, its voice a twisted symphony of agony and power. It lunged. Damián barely rolled aside, the beast's claws tearing through the ground where he stood a heartbeat ago. The impact split the earth open, dirt and stone flying like shrapnel. He scrambled to his feet, his breath ragged, his body trembling from exhaustion and terror.
He grabbed a half-broken log nearby, clutching it tight like a lifeline, and pulled out his pocket knife — small, silver, reflecting the moonlight like a tear. He could hear Axir's distant chuckle. "Show me, Damián… show me who you are."
The Joua moved again, faster this time. Its body flickered between shapes — part dragon, part shadow, part nightmare. Its massive eye followed his every move, unblinking, unfeeling. Damián's heart raced so fast he thought it might burst, but for the first time, his fear burned into something sharper — desperation. Rage. Life.
He roared, a sound torn from the deepest part of his soul, and charged forward. The log struck the creature's head with a dull crack, splintering in his hands. The Joua staggered — not from pain, but from surprise, as if amused that a mere mortal dared touch it. Damián didn't stop. He slashed with his knife, cutting through thick black smoke that poured from the beast's wounds like liquid shadow. Each strike echoed with his anger — at himself, at the world, at the gods who watched from above and laughed.
The Joua retaliated. Its claw swiped across his chest, and pain exploded through his body like wildfire. Blood soaked his shirt instantly. He stumbled, choking, the metallic taste filling his mouth. The world blurred, yet he forced himself forward, driven by something raw and animalistic.
He screamed and plunged the knife again — this time into the creature's glowing eye. The Joua shrieked, the sound splitting the air, shaking the trees, shattering the night. The ground quaked as black ichor splattered across Damián's face, burning like acid. He fell to his knees, panting, his vision flickering between light and dark.
The beast reeled back, thrashing violently. Its body dissolved into a storm of darkness that spiraled toward the sky, devouring the moonlight as it went. The forest trembled until, with one last guttural roar, it disintegrated into nothing but mist.
Damián collapsed onto the dirt, his body screaming in agony. His knife fell from his trembling hand. His chest rose and fell as he gasped for air, tears and sweat mixing on his blood-streaked face. The silence that followed was heavy — almost divine.
Axir walked forward slowly, his boots crunching softly against the broken earth. He looked down at Damián, a faint, knowing smile curling on his lips. His eyes, sharp and glimmering with pride and something darker, met Damián's trembling gaze."Well done, boy," he said quietly, his voice carrying both approval and mystery. "You've danced with death and didn't crumble… You've taken your first step toward something greater."
He paused, the night wind tugging at his coat as he turned his back to Damián."Now… I have something to show you."
The moonlight dimmed as the mist from the dead Joua slithered around them like serpents, whispering secrets older than time itself.