The wind howled between the old stone houses. Liven slowly lifted his gaze. The village square was just as he remembered—only more worn, more silent.
The village leader stood before him, eyes sharp.
"What did you say, Liven?" he asked, confusion in his tone.
Liven's voice was cold as ice.
"This village… is where I was born."
The leader chuckled mockingly. "What nonsense is that? I've been here since this village was founded. There was never a child named Liven."
Elya took a step back. That's true, she thought. When we first arrived, no one knew of a boy named Liven…
She glanced sideways. What are you up to this time, Liven?
Liven sensed her doubt. The corner of his mouth curved faintly.
"Corven," he said quietly.
The shadow beside him bowed. "At your command, my lord."
The leader frowned. "I'd like to speak with you in private."
Liven's voice deepened. "That's not a request. It's an order."
The old man stifled his irritation, forcing a smile. "Very well. Come inside, boy. We'll share a drink."
The door creaked open. As they stepped in, Liven's mind filled with whispers—
The cursed child! Hand him over! Give us the demon!
Faces flashed, screaming, burning.
A small child bumped into him. "Wow, you're tall!" the boy laughed, reaching for Liven's hair. "Your hair's so nice—"
But his smile froze. His eyes caught the black gleam in Liven's gaze.
"AAAAHH!" The boy shrieked and ran off.
The leader forced a laugh. "Children… they're not used to eyes like yours."
Liven tilted his head. "Don't worry," he whispered. "Soon you'll say the same."
A chill crept through the man's spine.
Darel looked around. "So many children… they seem happy."
Elya smiled softly. "Yes… they're adorable."
Liven's voice cut through the air. "They're nothing but shackles."
The leader's tone hardened. "Watch your tongue, boy."
Liven turned his gaze on him, red light flickering in his eyes.
"You're alive because I allow it," he said coldly. "Speak one more word, and I'll tear your head off."
The air froze.
The leader's trembling hands were hidden behind his back. "Fine," he muttered. "We'll talk. Alone."
Elya's eyes were filled with worry. "Be careful, Liven…"
Darel placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. He knows what he's doing."
The door closed, sealing the silence.
The leader poured wine into two glasses. "Tell me, boy… why are you here?"
Liven sat down, eyes wandering over the old paintings on the wall.
"Still the same scent," he murmured. "But now it smells of rot."
The leader frowned. "What do you mean?"
Liven placed his hand on the table. "I'll ask one question, old man. Choose your answer carefully."
The leader said nothing.
"Years ago, there was a family who lived here. The mother's name was Elira. The father's, Elendar."
Color drained from the man's face. His voice trembled.
"H-how do you know those names?"
Liven's tone turned razor-sharp. "I'm not finished. What happened to them?"
The leader stammered, "They went on a long journey… perhaps to the elven lands."
Liven's white eye flickered, seeing through the man's aura. Fear. Lies.
"And where exactly did they go?" he demanded.
The leader hesitated, trembling. "I—I don't know!"
Liven slammed his hand on the table. "I told you to answer me!"
The old man gasped. "They might have gone to the elves!"
Liven straightened. "Enough games. Let's get to the real matter—who I am."
He leaned in, voice like a whisper from the abyss.
"Take the letter L in my name… and replace it with an R."
The leader's pupils dilated. His lips quivered.
"You… you can't be… Riven!"
The door burst open. Guards rushed in.
"The cursed child! He's alive!"
Liven lifted his glass. The liquid within rippled—tiny glowing bubbles forming, swirling.
Then they burst outward like bullets. The guards fell before they could draw breath.
Liven turned back to the trembling man.
"Listen, you bastard," he said calmly. "You killed my father. Now you have one chance. Sign this paper, and the village becomes mine. Refuse… and I'll bury you with it."
The leader's fear twisted into a grin. "You're still that cursed child, Riven."
He drew a blade from behind a painting and lunged. Liven dodged, his clothes tearing.
"Damn it… I just wore this today," he muttered.
The old man laughed. "Don't worry. I'll send you to join your family soon."
Liven moved—one step, and he vanished.
In an instant, he reappeared before the man, hand gripping his skull, slamming him into the wall.
"You have no idea how hard it is not to kill you," he hissed.
Cracks spread across the stone. Liven's hand glowed faintly as he pulled away—along with one of the man's eyes.
Corven entered silently.
"My lord," he said, bowing, "shall I finish this?"
Liven turned toward the window. "He's yours. Satisfy your curiosity."
Corven smiled darkly as Liven walked away. Behind him, the screams began.
By the time he reached the door, the village outside was silent again—eerily still.
The wind blew softly through the square.
Once, they had called him the cursed child.
Now… he was the master of the village.
—