Chapter One: The Night ,the Sky Burned
By Chizzy
The sky bled fire.
That's how the elders will remember it—if any of them had lived.
But I remember something else.
The sound of silence before the screams. The way the river froze mid-flow, though it was summer. The sudden stillness of the wind. Like nature itself knew something was coming… and dared not move.
We didn't.
Not until it was too late.
I had only just returned from the herbal grove, clutching a basket of bitterroot and moonflower, when the first spark lit the treeline.
At first, we thought it was lightning. But lightning doesn't crawl. It doesn't slither across the ground like a living thing.
And it doesn't whisper your name.
> "Ewura…"
I dropped the basket. Spun around. No one. Just trees and ash and fear.
The next scream tore through the village like a blade. Then another. Then another.
I ran. I don't remember where to—just… away.
But the fire found me.
So did he.
When I woke up, my body was broken—ribs cracked, skin bloodied, the world spinning in orange flames and black smoke. I should've died there. I wanted to.
Then I saw him.
A shadow standing against the fire, taller than any man, cloaked in darkness and flame. His eyes glowed silver—not bright like moonlight, but cold like metal.
Not merciful. Not kind. Just watching.
> "This one is marked," a voice snarled behind him.
"Shall I finish her?"
A second figure—this one monstrous, horned, claws dripping with blood.
But the silver-eyed one lifted a hand.
> "No. She's mine."
Mine?
I tried to speak. I tried to scream. My mouth wouldn't move. My body was nothing but pain.
He knelt beside me. His hand, warm yet terrifying, touched my arm—
—and I burned.
Not from the fire around me, but from within. Something ancient seared into my skin, branding my shoulder with a glowing mark I didn't recognize.
I should've cried.
But all I felt was… silence.
> "Run," he whispered. "Run far. But know this—"
His eyes met mine.
> "You will come back to me. And when you do… you will hate me for what you become."
Then he vanished.
And I crawled away from the ruins of my home, bleeding and broken, carrying the memory of his voice like a curse.
---
I've never told anyone what really happened that night.
Not about the mark.
Not about the demon with silver e
yes.
And definitely not about the fact that sometimes…
…he still visits my dreams.
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