The ashes that fell that night weren't black.
They were gold.
Of course, Raizen didn't know what that meant. In that moment, all he felt was warmth - the bonfire crackling in the center of his small village, his father's loud laugh cutting through the noise, his mother's hand squeezing his shoulder as she passed behind him with another skewered fish.
"Raizen, you're going to burn it!" someone shouted from across the fire, pointing at the stick in his hand where dinner was starting to char.
He jerked it back, grinning. "Nahh, It's just called flavor."
"You're just incinerating it!" an older woman clicked her tongue, shaking her head whilst not being able to hide a smile.
Laughter rippled around the circle - the kind that only comes when everyone's full and the night feels safe.
Raizen tilted his head up.
The sky was there, technically. He knew it was there.
But he'd never actually seen it.
Only the strange clouds, always covering whatever was beyond. Thick and unmoving, like someone didn't want them to see what lay after.
His father sat near the fire's edge, fishing spear resting across his knees. His hands were scarred from years of hard work, rough and cracked, but steady as he made gestures in the air while telling some exaggerated story about the huge fish that got away.
He wasn't even trying to make it believable.
…That was the whole point. People groaned and laughed anyway. Someone tossed a pebble at him. He caught it without looking, and flicked it back.
Raizen's mother rolled her eyes as she returned to the circle, careful with the tray of fish so it wouldn't spill. She set it down, then brushed some cold ash from his hair like it was nothing.
"Take a bite, does it need more seasoning?" she asked softly.
Raizen smiled and tasted a bit. It was too hot, but he nodded in approval.
That was his whole world.
Fishing. Firelight. Warm faces. The sound of his father's laugh.
Then his world was torn apart.
The far wall exploded.
Stone and dust burst inward, and lantern light scattered like dying fireflies. The ground shook hard enough to knock bowls off laps.
Raizen's body reacted before his mind – he jumped up, heart hammering.
For a heartbeat, he couldn't understand what he was seeing. The wall wasn't just cracked.
It was... Gone. Obliterated.
A massive hole opened where stone had been, jagged edges bleeding dust into the air.
And through it, something seeped.
Not smoke. Not shadow.
Something blacker than night itself, as if the darkness had a form and was slowly pouring in.
The laughter died so fast it felt like it had never existed.
Sound dulled. The bonfire still crackled, but it came from far away. Panicked voices sounded like underwater noises.
Raizen's throat tightened. His hands went numb around his stick.
And through the dust -
He saw them.
They weren't animals. They weren't people.
They were shaped like ruined humans, but their bodies looked like they were made of... Just pure darkness. Like someone had carved monsters out of a place where light couldn't survive.
Their eyes - if they were eyes - glowed faintly white. Cold. Flat. Emotionless. Watching them the way a predator watches prey.
Nyxes.
The word didn't feel real in his head. It belonged in whispered stories, in weird rumors, in forgotten prayers - not here in front of him.
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. The Nyxes stepped forward, slow and deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world.
Panic hit like a wave.
Men scrambled for anything that could be held like a weapon - rusted blades, hunting spears, even burning firewood ripped from the flames. Someone shoved a child behind them with shaking hands.
A spear flew.
It hit one of the Nyxes. For a split second, it looked like it went in, piercing.
Then the darkness rippled and shattered the sturdy shaft like it was simply a stick.
A torch was thrust toward another Nyx's chest. The flame flickered, then went out.
The Nyx didn't even flinch.
Nothing touched them. Nothing mattered.
But across the village, through the chaos and screams, two figures moved in the opposite direction.
Raizen's parents.
His father gripped his precious fishing spear, knuckles white. His mother stood beside him with a cleaver in her hand. The knife looked too small. Her shoulders looked too thin.
But they stepped forward anyway.
Not because they thought they'd win.
Because every second they could buy mattered.
His father lunged forward.
His spear drove straight into a Nyx.
For one bright, stupid second, hope sparked in Raizen's chest. The tip met resistance. It looked like it passed through.
Then the darkness coiled around the shaft like smoke given form, twisting tighter and tighter.
With a sickening crack, the wood splintered.
Hundreds of shards exploded outward, spinning through the air and falling uselessly to the ground.
His father's eyes widened - not in fear.
In understanding.
The Nyx's hand lashed out and wrapped around his throat.
It lifted him off the ground like he weighed nothing.
His feet dangled, fingers clawed at the grip, frantic and desperate, but the Nyx's hand didn't move.
"Dad!" The cry tore out of Raizen before he could think. His legs finally moved, carrying him forward, blind and reckless.
Beside his father, Raizen's mother screamed and rushed in.
Her blade flashed in the dim firelight.
She stabbed. She slashed. She struck again and again.
Every cut tore through the dark mass.
But every time, it knit itself back together instantly, as if her rage was simply a joke.
No matter how weak, no matter how small, Raizen had to do something. He had to reach them. He had to help.
But his body betrayed him.
A crushing weight pressed down out of nowhere. He was too scared. His knees slammed into the ground. His hands sank into cold soil. He tried to crawl, tried to drag himself forward, but his arms shook and refused.
"Please" he choked out, not even sure who he was begging. "Please, no -!"
The dark hand around his father's throat tightened. His father's eyes flicked toward Raizen, and there was still something there - warm and scolding, encouraging and stubborn.
The light that held his world.
That very light just went out.
His body hung limp, like a puppet with the strings cut.
Raizen's throat ripped open in a sound he didn't recognize as his own.
But his mother didn't stop.
Her hands shook, her breath came in broken gasps, yet she lifted the knife again.
She swung with everything she had left.
The Nyx answered with its other hand.
It moved faster than Raizen's eyes could see.
A sharp strike - a simple, cruel motion - and its claws pierced her chest.
There was a dreadful sound, and her scream cut off.
The knife slipped from her hand and clattered to the ground, stainless and clean, like it had never even touched a Nyx.
She turned her head slowly.
Her eyes found Raizen through the smoke.
They were wide, watery, terrified - yet still full of love.
Her lips moved.
Her voice barely reached him, torn by pain.
"Raizen... Run..."
In that same moment, something whispered inside his skull.
Too close.
Too cold to be human.
Raizen…
You will suffice.
The words weren't heard with his ears.
They were gently placed in his head, like a decision that had already been made.
Suddenly, the Nyx turned toward him.
It stepped forward.
One slow motion.
Another.
Its hand lifted slightly, as if it was about to reach for him.
Raizen couldn't move.
He couldn't breathe.
He couldn't even blink.
But then...
The Nyx froze.
Mid-motion.
Not hesitating or reconsidering.
Stopping.
And in those faint white eyes, Raizen didn't see fear.
He saw recognition.
Like it had been about to do something on deadly instinct, then a leash had snapped tight around its neck.
It hadn't paused because it was afraid.
It had paused because it had received a command.
As if Raizen wasn't prey to be killed –
...But simply a puppet with a higher destiny.