The valley lay quiet at night. Fires smoldered low, thin smoke curling into the darkness, while the huts of the tribe crouched in a loose ring against the wind. Above, the sky stretched vast and endless, filled with stars that shimmered cold and bright, like a thousand distant eyes.
Kael had always stared at those stars longer than he should. Perhaps it was because they never looked away.
He had no parents, no family name, no place among the clansmen. He had been left here as a baby, swaddled in rough cloth, spared only by the pity of the elders. Pity did not fill a stomach, nor did it win him a place in the tribe.
At ten years old, Kael sat near a dying fire, his body small and thin, ribs pressing against his skin. He watched as the other children tore into roasted meat, grease dripping down their fingers. By the time the platter came near him, only bones remained.
"The orphan eats last," one boy sneered, tossing a scrap into the dirt before him.
Laughter followed. Kael lowered his gaze, though his hands clenched into fists against his knees. He did not argue. The weak did not argue. The weak survived by thinking.
That night, while the others slept on full stomachs, Kael lay awake, hunger twisting inside him. Long before dawn, he rose and slipped into the forest with a crude spear he had shaped from bone and wood.
The elders forbade children from hunting, yet Kael had been watching for years. He knew where animals passed, where dry leaves would betray a careless step, where roots curled in the dark soil like waiting snares. He had no strength to match the others, but he had patience, sharp eyes, and an instinct that guided him through the trees.
Hours passed in silence. Then, with one swift thrust, his spear pinned a hare that had strayed into a snare he had hidden days before.
Kael carried it back as the sky bled red with sunset. He roasted it alone, far from the others, chewing each bite slowly, memorizing the taste.
If they denied him food, he would take his own. If they denied him a place, he would carve one.
When the fire burned low and only embers glowed, Kael leaned back against the earth, staring at the stars. A sudden thrum stirred in his chest, faint yet undeniable, like the beat of a second heart. The stars above seemed to flicker in answer, pulsing once before returning to stillness.
Kael's hand flew to his chest. His breath hitched. Then the sensation faded, leaving him shaken and cold beneath the vast night sky.
He did not understand what had stirred within him. He only knew one truth: something vast was sleeping inside him.
And one day, it would wake.