The night was colder than it had any right to be.
The house creaked around them, its wooden frame old and weary, as if it too had survived battles long before Kairis and his siblings stumbled inside. The shutters rattled whenever the wind pressed too hard, and dust fell from the beams whenever the earth shivered beneath distant roars.
Kairis sat near the window, back straight, knife across his knees. His eyes never left the darkness outside. He could hear his little brother breathing heavily in his sleep, clutching at his shirt even though he wasn't beside him. His sister, only a year younger than him, sat against the far wall, hugging her knees. She hadn't spoken since their parents fell.
Kairis tightened his grip on the blade. His knuckles whitened, but his face stayed calm.
Inside, though—inside was chaos. Every flicker of shadow felt like it might tear through the walls. Every gust of wind carried the stench of smoke and blood in his memory. He wanted to cry, to scream, to break. But he couldn't. Not in front of them. Not ever again.
"I'll keep you safe," he whispered, so softly it was almost like he was telling himself.
Then the scratching came.
At first, it was faint, just a drag across the outside wall. Then another. Slow, deliberate. His sister's head jerked up, eyes wide, but Kairis raised a hand and she froze. His heart was hammering now, but he forced his breathing to steady. Step by step, he moved to the door.
The scratching turned into a low growl.
He pressed his ear to the wood. On the other side, the monster shifted—heavy, wet footsteps dragging across the dirt. The kind that carried hunger. The kind that remembered blood.
Kairis swallowed. His first fight. No parents to shield him, no soldiers in sight. Just him, the knife, and the weight of two lives clinging to his back.
He opened the door.
The night air slapped his face, cold and sharp. The street was empty except for it.
The creature stood hunched, its limbs too long, its skin stretched like burned leather. Its mouth hung open, dripping strands of dark saliva that hissed as they touched the ground. Its eyes were pits—hollow, lifeless—but they locked onto him with a predator's certainty.
Kairis tightened his jaw. His legs trembled, but he forced them still. He remembered his father's last look—the silent plea to protect them. His mother's final push that got them through the flames. Their faces were burned into him. He wouldn't let that be in vain.
He lifted the knife.
The monster lunged.
It was fast—faster than he expected. Its claws sliced the air where his head had been a breath earlier. He threw himself to the side, rolled across the dirt, and barely came up in time to meet its second swipe. The impact rattled his bones, the knife sparking as claw met steel. His hands burned, his wrists screamed, but he held.
The world shrank to the sound of his breath and the weight of the beast pressing down. His arms shook violently, but he didn't break. Somewhere deep inside him, beneath the fear and the pain, something pulsed—like a second heartbeat.
"Not tonight," he growled through clenched teeth.
He twisted his body, forcing the claws aside, and with a desperate cry, drove the knife upward into its throat. The blade sank deep, and the creature shrieked, black ichor spraying across his face.
But it didn't fall.
It thrashed, clawing wildly, and one strike tore across his shoulder. Pain exploded, hot and raw, but he refused to let go. He drove the knife deeper, leaning all his weight into it. His vision blurred, his arms heavy, but he kept pushing.
Then—
The world cracked.
It wasn't sound, not exactly. More like the air itself split. His eyes flared with a light he didn't understand, a violet glow bleeding out of the darkness of his pupils. Space warped around his blade, pulling, bending, compressing.
And then—silence.
The monster's body folded inward, crushed as if an invisible hand had clenched around it. Bones snapped like brittle twigs. Flesh collapsed in on itself. And in the next breath, there was nothing left but dust scattering on the wind.
Kairis fell to his knees, gasping. His knife clattered to the ground, now etched with faint lines of light. His hands shook violently, blood mixing with the black stains across his skin.
His sister's voice broke through the haze, trembling but filled with awe.
"Kairis… your eyes…"
He didn't answer. He just pressed a hand to his chest, feeling that strange new pulse. Heavy. Ancient. Powerful.
He had killed.
He had survived.
And something inside him had awakened.