Kevin remembered her laughter first. It echoed through the guild halls like firelight—warm, full of mischief, impossible to ignore. She was the kind of woman who moved with rhythm, spinning through life with the grace of a dancer and the recklessness of someone who trusted they'd always be caught. Her magic was radiant. Golden-orange flames that pulsed with personality, neither wild nor tame, but always alive. And Kevin was the only one who could match her tempo.
He had been the rising star of their generation. A high-ranking battle mage with five regional commendations, a reputation for discipline, ruthless focus, and a presence that commanded every battlefield he stepped onto. People called him the First Ember—the fire that taught others what it meant to burn with purpose, a man whose flames shielded others and gave them strength.
But back then, he hadn't been quiet.
He laughed easily, challenged captains to arm-wrestling matches between missions, and made reckless bets he almost always lost. His flame wasn't just strong, it was bold, cocky, and alive. He was the kind of young man who stood at the pinnacle of life. He lit up every room he entered, loud, reckless. He could turn the mood of an entire squad with a single grin. Even the strictest instructors found it hard to stay mad at him for long. He could see it in their faces. The way they smiled when he walked in. The way even the instructors softened. Everyone seemed to love him.
When Callista Bright joined the guild, the whispers began. They clashed in duels, bantered between missions, challenged each other for who could clear a dungeon fastest. But no one expected them to fall in love.
Not like that.
Not with that much joy.
He couldn't forget how everyone talked about them. But after they became a couple, the stories had spread faster than he could stop them. The fiery girl who laughed at death, and the blazing fool who dared fate to laugh back. Together, they weren't just strong. They made people believe that legends weren't just stories—they could be real, and beautiful. Their bond burned so brightly, the guildmaster joked that their wedding could melt snow off the northern peaks. It wasn't far off. Even strangers stopped to watch when they walked through cities. He had noticed it too. Their flame, both literal and not. The way strangers lingered. The way people smiled when they passed, as if some part of that warmth reached further than it should have.
When she became pregnant during the spring harvest, the entire guild celebrated. Even rival adventurers sent gifts. Some said their child would be a prodigy. Others swore they'd seen sparks dance in the air as soon as the news was announced. That day had never left his mind. The day she found out. They had been training in the open field. She had just landed a hit on him, gloating, glowing, grinning with her usual overconfidence. Suddenly, she froze. She looked down and traced her stomach with slow fingers. And smiled. Not her usual grin. Not the smile she gave after a good spell or a lucky dodge. This one was smaller.
Softer.
It was the kind of smile that carried a secret. A promise of something he could not understand. A smile that would haunt him later. And without realizing it, Kevin memorized that smile. She smiled again in the months that followed… but that one never returned. He would see it only once more—at the very end.
Nine months passed in peace.
Or what peace looked like for them. She trained, laughed, cast spells, and scolded him when he forgot the chores. She pouted whenever he got too overprotective, and let him win arguments only so she could claim the moral victory later. And more than once, they laughed in astonishment when faint words, "Mom" and "Dad," echoed softly from within Callista's belly. Word of it reached the guild soon enough, only fueling the legend of the prodigy to come.
He had never known a happiness like that.
It had seemed so simple back then. So easy to believe it would last. He had caught himself dreaming too. Of the child they would raise. Of the life they would build. Even the guild had celebrated. Everyone had called their child a genius before he was even born. A child born of the guild's two greatest prodigies. Kevin had dreamed it all too easily. But looking back now, the shadows had already been there. Beneath the joy. Beneath the light. He just hadn't seen them.
Then came the final night. The day before the birth, she laughed like always. Held his hand. Kissed his forehead. Told him she was craving soup again—burnt, just the way he made it. But the next morning, something had changed.
Callista woke in silence. She rose from bed slowly, without her usual groan or playful complaint, and moved with a strange quiet that didn't belong in their home. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, almost too calm and too formal. Her eyes didn't shine. They held no warmth. The way she looked at him was measured and detached, and it made something deep inside Kevin's chest tighten in ways he didn't understand.
She was still Callista Bright, and that was the problem. She felt like someone else wearing her smile. Something between them had vanished. When he joked about her acting like a noblewoman, trying to earn points for the baby's first impression, she smiled in that quiet, distant way that felt wrong in all the worst places. She was cold, answered his questions, but never asked her own. She touched his arm like it was a routine to follow, not a feeling to share. Kevin lingered for a few extra seconds, hoping she would say something to break the tension.
Anything.
But the silence stretched too long, and the air in the room felt too thin. He stepped out to make breakfast, telling himself she just needed rest. That everything would settle once the tea boiled and the smell of eggs filled the house. That she was probably just nervous about delivering the baby soon. He wanted to believe it. He needed to believe it. This was his wife. The woman who had laughed beside him for years. He had no reason to have second thoughts, no reason to imagine things that were not there.
Then she called out to him, asking if he could buy some flour. She said she wanted to bake a cake to celebrate the baby's arrival. Flustered by how the morning had unfolded, Kevin left the house without thinking.
And for the rest of his life, he would never forgive himself for walking out of that room.
***
Callista Bright's POV:
Behind the bedroom door, Callista stood alone. The cold mask she had worn minutes ago had vanished. Her breath came quick and uneven. Her shoulders trembled at her sides. Fear clouded her gaze as her thoughts spiraled, scattered and frantic.
"Focus," she whispered to herself, though her voice cracked. "You have to finish this..."
Her hands trembled as mana gathered, dense and swirling at her fingertips. The energy twisted into a black shape, heavy and silent, moving with a purpose she could no longer resist. She placed her palms over her belly. Her breath caught. Tears welled in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, little one," she whispered. "This will hurt... but this is the only way."
A pulse of shadows surged through her hands. Agony flared along her arms, searing her nerves with each passing moment. Her breath shuddered. The more the shadow pressed inward, the deeper the pain clawed through her bones and heart. Yet she kept going. Her body shook with each wave, caught among the force driving her hands, the desperate ache rising in her chest, and the fragile soul struggling beneath it. And then it came.
A sound too faint to be real, too clear to be a dream.
"Mom?"
A voice rose from within her. A child. Unborn and unseen, calling out through the bond that should have meant safety. She staggered and collapsed, her breath shallow.
"Son...?"
The word slipped from her lips, trembling. The black shadow vanished from her hands. Gasping, she pressed both palms over her mouth, eyes wide as tears spilled down her cheeks. Her chest tightened. That voice still echoed in her mind, soft and innocent.
"Let this be known, my child..." Her breath trembled. "Your mother loves you... always." She pressed her trembling hands to her belly, voice breaking.
"I love you... I love you... please forgive me..."
Tears slipped down once again as her hands flared once more, the shadow surging again as she prepared a second strike.
***
That was when Kevin burst through the door.
He had been halfway down the path when a thought struck him. Callista never baked. She hated cakes. The request made no sense. Unease rising, his gut twisted. He stormed back toward the house. What he saw burned itself into memory. The woman he loved, casting death toward their unborn child with shaking hands and glassy eyes.
"Ca... Callista?"
She looked at him. Her eyes held a pain deeper than anything he had seen in his life, wide with silent pleading, as if begging him to stop her, begging for mercy she could not give herself.
A silent plea he knew would haunt him forever.
But her hands moved with a will of their own. The black shadow coiling from her fingers burned her skin as it surged toward her belly. He moved without thought. His mana surged, wrapping around her like chains. He pinned her to the floor as she convulsed, the shadow hissing against his barriers.
"Release me!" she cried, voice shaking but laced with the command of one born to lead.
"You do not understand—please, I beg you! This child cannot be born into this world like this!"
Her eyes brimmed with tears. Her body strained against the bindings.
"Let me finish it! I must... for his sake—let me finish this!"
"I beg you—this cannot be undone!" Her voice rang with the last shreds of will she could muster.
A black torrent of mana spiraled around her body, lashing violently as it gathered at her belly. The shadow surged in a violent pulse—building toward something Kevin couldn't name. He braced for whatever would come.
Kevin moved on instinct, driven by fear and the need to protect.
He knocked Callista out. A final convulsion wracked her body. With a final, shuddering breath, her limbs went still. Kevin froze, breath caught. Her eyes, so full of pain an instant ago, fluttered closed, leaving only the memory of that desperate plea. Then, slowly, a faint smile curled her lips. Empty. Detached. A smile that belonged to the woman he loved.
And in that instant, Kevin felt a shiver of recognition.
He had seen that smile once before.
But in that moment, Kevin didn't understand what he saw.
He only knew it would stay with him, whether he wanted it to or not.
That smile.
The start of a nightmare he would never escape. The memory that haunted him even now.