She was standing in the middle of a ruined field.
Fire was burning everywhere.
Ash floated through the air like snow, and the sky above was cracked — purple, broken, bleeding flame. The trees were only shadows, and the wind carried the sound of something lost… something screaming in silence.
Yuhi didn't know how she got there.
She was barefoot. Her hands glowed faintly — a soft light pulsing through her fingers, like moonlight trying to remember itself.
She looked down and saw blood.
Not hers. Not anymore.
But—
In the distance — a figure.
He stood at the edge of the smoke, tall, unmoving, like a ghost carved from shadow and fire. His coat billowed in the dying wind, and his eyes burned through the ash.
He didn't move.
"David? You idiot..." Yuhi snapped, more furious than afraid.
But this wasn't the time to focus on him.
She felt it before she saw it — a presence. No, someone.
Then her eyes caught the glow. A tiny figure, trembling, dangerously radiant.
The toddler.
She didn't hesitate.
She ran through the scorched grass and picked him up — the child glowing like he'd swallowed the sun.
"Just scream once, my dear," she whispered into his hair.
And he did.
A sound split the sky.
Everything went still — and then shattered.
Only the strongest demons survived the wave. Most fled, terrified. And then silence fell again, the kind that only comes after something greater than a storm.
Yuhi crumpled to her knees, exhausted, holding the toddler close.
"Thanks, love," she murmured with a tired smile, setting him down carefully.
But before she could even speak to the child—
Someone grabbed her wrist.
And then, she was pulled into someone's arms.
"You didn't recognise me, did you?" a voice whispered against her ear.
His breath on her neck sent chills down her spine. She tried to pull away, but he held her tighter.
"I'll always be near you," he murmured, "so close, even the wind that touches you will know me."
"Leave me…" she breathed, almost pleading.
"Never."
He turned slightly, eyes locking on something behind her.
"Hey—look."
Yuhi turned.
The toddler was glowing again, more dangerously this time. His small body shook, breath short and ragged. His power was spinning out of control.
She froze.
"What should I do?" she whispered.
"We can calm him together," the man said. "Let's try."
"But...?"
"Why? Don't you want to save him?" His voice softened. "I know you, Yuhi. Better than anyone."
"Yeah but..."
"What?"
"I'm cursed."
He smiled—not cruelly, but knowingly. "We're demons, love. You can't be more dangerous. Now come—before it's too late."
Yuhi picked up the toddler and held him tightly to her chest.
The baby instantly leaned into her warmth. His eyes, once wild and red, began to blink more slowly. His breathing softened… but the energy — the power — still raged.
Then, the man placed his hand gently on the boy's head.
The power bent.
The boy sighed. His little body relaxed, and his eyes slowly turned green, shimmering like new leaves after fire.
And then something happened.
Yuhi's eyes began to glow — golden-brown.
His eyes shimmered — deep, unnatural blue.
She looked up at him.
"…Demon?" she whispered.
"It's a soul-bond, Yuhi," he said softly. "We'll protect him. Forever."
"Mmm…"
"Let's get him to the palace."
"Should we?" Her voice trembled.
He understood instantly.
She didn't want to let the boy go.
"Yeah," he said gently. "We should, my dear."
"I can go alone," she said quietly, turning.
"You always leave," he said behind her, voice low and distant, like thunder behind the mountains.
"And I always follow."
Yuhi opened her mouth, but no sound came.
Only her heartbeat — too loud.
Too fast.
She held the sleeping boy tighter.
He stepped closer.
And in his hand — she saw it.
A locket.
Old. Cracked. Faintly glowing.
He held it out to her, but made no move to cross the space between them.
"You gave this to me," he said. "In another life. Before the fire."
Yuhi stepped toward him, trembling.
The baby breathed softly in her arms.
"I don't remember," she whispered.
But her soul was already crying.
"You will," he said. "And when you do… everything will burn again."
The sky cracked open.
The field trembled.
And then—
He was close.
Too close.
She smelled him — stormwind, ash, something ancient.
His hand brushed her cheek gently, trying not to wake the child.
Like a man afraid to touch a sleeping god.
"I never stopped waiting," he breathed.
And then—
She was falling.
The world vanished beneath her feet.
The fire returned.
The memory roared.
And just before she was swallowed—
"I'm going to protect you two this time," he whispered.
"Even if you don't want me to.
I'm fed up with watching you die in front of my eyes."