It was a freezing night. A house stood silent in the cold until an earsplitting scream pierced the air. Inside, a brown-haired woman lay in bed. Two men sat nearby—one was a handsome young man with brown hair, who is my dad, the other was old, tired and has white hair.   My grandpa,

“Don’t worry, honey, you’re going to be alright,” the young man said, to his wife. “Aiden and Luke will have friends to play with soon.” 

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The old man spoke next. “Zepher, stop. One of them will have to be killed. The curse still lives on.” 

“Stop, Dad. Maybe none of them will be Jacob,” Zepher replied, his voice tense. 

The woman screamed again, louder this time. The old man put on a pair of gloves. After several agonizing minutes, the child was born, his hair shining golden blonde. 

“Jacob… forever suffering... bless the poor lad. may bellos take care of him” the old man muttered. He traced a circle in the air, marking it with a 'Z' and a line through the center. In a low voice, he incanted, “Draconic array.” 

A green laser shot out from the circle, filling the room with an eerie green glow.

The Child was gone...