In the midst of a cruel and silent night, a young man ran desperately, fleeing from the death that pursued him. Every step was filled with unending fear. Every breath he took felt heavy, forcing him to gasp for air.
Hundreds of people chased after him with bloodlust in their eyes. They carried long spears, swords, and torches, ready to end his life.
The young man saw a small, collapsed hut, nothing more than a pile of rubble. With all his remaining strength, he hid himself behind the worn-out debris, silently praying that no one would find him.
"Please don't find me... Don't find me..." he whispered repeatedly, as if chanting a spell that could save him.
The sound of footsteps echoed from all directions, making his face grow even paler. He hugged his knees tightly, hoping to survive the hunt.
"Where is he? Find him, then burn it all!"
They searched every corner of the dark forest, leaving no place unchecked.
By some stroke of luck, none of them paid attention to the damp ruins of the hut. But fate was cruel—an old man noticed a small opening among the debris.
The old man frowned. The ruins shouldn't have had any gaps at all.
"Everyone!" he shouted. "Tear down this wreckage!"
The crowd turned toward him, curiosity in their eyes.
"What is it, old man?" asked a younger man gripping a long spear.
"Look at that ruin. Isn't it suspicious?" the old man said firmly, convincing the others to search the remains before them.
"You're right," said a burly man with a deep voice. "Everyone, tear it apart! That filthy rat must be hiding inside!"
The crowd obeyed.
The young man hiding within shut his eyes tightly, panic rising in his chest. He hadn't expected them to suspect the place he chose to hide.
"A-am I going to die... today..." he whispered weakly, as if surrendering to the fate written for him.
"If only I had power... my revenge would become their nightmare."
At that moment, the burly man wielding a sword moved a piece of wood aside—revealing the young man beneath it.
His eyes widened. His heart pounded violently. Cold sweat poured down his trembling body.
The man's lips curled into a sinister grin as he shouted, "Everyone! I found the cursed child!"
"Where is he? Let's skin him alive!"
"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" the mob roared together.
The young man couldn't speak. The sharp edge of a sword hovered inches from his neck.
"It wouldn't be any fun to kill him right away. Let's torture him first!"
"Yes! Torture him!"
The burly man stepped forward, reaching for the young man's leg. But before he could touch him, a blinding light burst forth, engulfing the young man's body.
Everyone instinctively raised their arms to shield their eyes from the searing brilliance.
When the light faded, the young man was gone.
"Where did he go? Find him!" the burly man shouted angrily, destroying what was left of the ruins in his rage.
Confused and panicked, the villagers scattered in all directions, searching every inch of the forest. Yet, no matter how far they looked, there was no trace of him.
---
In a barren, frozen land that night, there was no sign of life—only the whispering wind, sharp as ice over a glacier.
But that eerie calm was shattered when a radiant light burst from within a deep crater, like a meteor crashing down from the heavens.
Amid the dust and shattered stone, a young man with silver hair—bright as moonlight—lay motionless. His golden eyes, half-hidden beneath weary lids, shimmered faintly, marking him as someone extraordinary.
His hand twitched. Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes. Despite the pain coursing through his body, he struggled to rise.
"Cough... cough..."
Realization dawned on him—he had escaped death.
"Damn it... am I really alive..." he murmured weakly, wiping the dust from his cheek with his sleeve. He stood, his heart torn between fear, anger, and confusion.
He took a few steps forward, trying to make sense of what had happened.
"Where am I? Is this some kind of joke?" he muttered, his voice trembling. "Those fools... they dared to try and kill me!"
The memories of his dark past clawed their way back.
---
Flashback
In a prosperous and peaceful land, there once lived a noble couple—generous and firm in their rule. Their people admired and supported them, swearing to protect their land at any cost.
One day, the couple was blessed with a healthy baby boy. But their joy turned to dread when they saw his hair—silver as the moon.
No one in their world had ever been born with silver hair. The couple remembered an old prophecy: a cursed child would be born "one day."
Fearing disgrace and ruin, they hid their son from the world, ashamed of what he represented.
As time passed, they gave him neither affection nor love. Instead, he was raised by a kind maid who served the household. Her warmth and compassion shielded the boy from the coldness of his fate.
Their bond grew. One day, as they sat together in the garden, the maid noticed something—the boy had no name.
Understanding his situation, she smiled softly and pointed toward the beautiful scenery before them.
"I don't care if people call you a sorcerer," she said gently. "There's no such thing. You were simply born special in a cruel world that doesn't understand you. But I believe you'll grow into someone great... Celis."
The young man—Celis—sat quietly against a large stone, feeling its cold surface press against his back.
His tired eyes reflected the weight of his pain.
"How did I end up here?" he whispered. "They call me a sorcerer... but those fools only believe in lies."
He looked up at the dark sky from within the vast crater. There was no one around—only the sound of the wind moving through the silence of the night.
This world was unlike anything he had ever known.
A world shaped by magic itself—something no one from another world could ever understand.