Three days passed.
The village was not the same anymore.
People had stopped talking loudly. Kids weren't playing in the streets. Even the animals walked quietly, like they knew something was wrong.
The house where the baby was born was locked. No one dared to go inside.
The woman — Kean's mother — was gone. Her body was buried on the hill behind the village, under an old tree. Some people cried that day. Some didn't even show up.
The baby was given to the elder of the village, Master Reon.
Reon was old, tired, and half-blind. But he still had a voice that could shake a table, and eyes that noticed more than they should.
When he first held Kean in his arms, the baby didn't cry.
Didn't smile.
Just stared into his face.
And Reon felt… cold.
He whispered under his breath, "You're not a normal child… are you?"
Just like the mother had said.
It rained every day after that.
Not heavy rain. Just light, soft drops. Like the sky was sad.
People started calling it "the crying sky."
"It's him," they'd whisper. "He brought it with him."
Kids weren't allowed near Reon's house anymore. Mothers held their babies tighter. Men sharpened their blades a little more than usual.
No one said anything out loud.
But everyone felt it.
Kean was different.
On the sixth night, Reon sat near the fireplace. Kean was lying in a small wooden basket, wrapped in a brown cloth. His eyes were wide open.
Again.
"Sleep, boy," Reon said, sipping his tea.
Kean didn't blink.
Just looked at the fire like he understood it.
Like he belonged to it.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door.
Reon stood up, bones cracking with every move.
He opened the door. A messenger stood there, drenched in rain. His face was pale.
He handed a wet scroll to Reon.
Reon read it. His hands shook.
The messenger said in a low voice,"Something's moving… in the Third Realm."
Reon looked back at Kean.
Then up at the sky.
It was still crying.
End of Chapter 2