Far away from the village, deep at the center of Darkwood. There was a large iron pillar, there were many such things scattered across the world. Each of them etched in with strange Magi incantation across its surface, each possessing immense power.
It was these pillars that had sealed the invading void creatures that had wreaked havoc across the old world, corrupting the very fabric of magic that flows through it. But this particular one, was cracking, slowly these cracks began to enlarge.
A loud rumbling followed soon after, and eventually, the ground gave way. Collapsing into a massive sink hole, bringing the pillar down with it.
Basira jolted from his slumber, sweat pouring from every pore in his body. He could feel something wriggling under his skin. In a panic he struggled to get off from the floor only to fall back down, a nauseating sensation wreaking havoc upon him. With a loud retching noise he lets out a torrent of black liquid from his mouth, his body shivering and straining itself.
The clanking of metal could be heard, catching his attention. He was chained, in a barred room underground. This is a cage room that the village would use to handle beasts that were set for the initiation ritual of younglings.
what was he doing here? How did he get here?
A massive migraine attacked his tired mind as he tried to remember what had happened, he was sleeping with his mother, and then… and then…
He couldn’t remember.
Something was wrong, but what? Wracking his mind to make some sense of of the scenery, not noticing the sound of footsteps coming closer and closer.
“Basira”
A voice echoed through the entire chamber, as he looked over to see the grand elder staring down at him. His eyes full of grief, sadness, and loss. The grand elder, leader of the Bleakridge village, a powerful man, and above all else.
His great-grandfather.
The grand elder sat down on the ground opposite his great-grandson, facing his confused face behind metal bars. Silence was all that transpired. No sound was spoken, no noise was made, no mice nor roaches dared to move in these few moments.
“Grand elder, what’s going on.” His great-grandson spoke, he could see it in his eyes. Innocence, confusion, fear.
He could few his throat go dry, what would happen to him if he told him that he was the one who killed his own mother?
What would he do?
How would this affect him?
The boy had just lost his father barely a week before, and now this?
“Grand elder?” the boy spoke once more, his eyes were smeared with black liquids, it seemed he didn’t notice the changes that were happening to him, not yet.
Like his father, and his grandfather before him.
“Grand elder, What happened? Where’s my mom?” the boy asked, his voice soft and frail, too frail. He could feel his heartbreak at every question asked.
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“Your mother is dead.” The grand elder spoke, each words was like a hammer striking into the boy’s head, his lips started quivering as black tears pooled beneath his eyelids.
His hands shook violently as he curled down, and bawled.
while the boy cried, the grand elder simply did nothing but watch as he used his fist to punch at the ground violently. Each strike violently cracked the ground beneath him, the boy oblivious to the fact.
It was not until the rays of light poured in from one of the air vents that he stopped crying, and noticed the black puddle that had formed beneath him. he stared wide-eyed at the puddle before rubbing his face, smearing it all over his arms, falling silent at the sight before meeting looking back at the grand elder.
“What happened to me?”
The grand elder breathed a heavy sigh, shutting his eyes before opening them, showing a sight that struck Basira dumb.
Stars, shining softly within a deep blackness. They move in erratic directions, colliding and extinguishing each other in spectacular lights. All of it happening within the boundary of the grand elder’s eyes. And just as abrupt, he blinked, returning them back amber-colored eyes.
“In the past, our family was not always isolated. We were… nobles once, when the empire fell, we were cast out into the wilds. With so much danger looming over us, our forefather did something none dared to do.” The grand elder reached into his linen shirt to pull out a small hunting knife, its edges were so chipped that it could be used as a saw.
“With this very knife, he had managed to wound and kill a creature of the void, we called them ‘Kaidans’. There is much I want to teach you, but this will suffice.”
He shoved his blade into his left hand, Basira flinched at the sight, he watched as what poured from the elder’s hand was not red blood, but black.
“Our forefathers, out of sheer desperation, had casted a blessing and curse to our bloodline.” Pulling out the knife from his hand as he displayed the bloodied wound, the wound slowly but surely healing in real-time. “Within a few seconds, it will heal, until there is not one single scratch left. One of the many gifts that we have received from our fusion with the ‘Kaidans’ blood. ”
“You, are also capable of this now, though to a lesser extent. I heard you were quite curious about the process of becoming an initiate yes?” the elder asked, Basira nodded absentmindedly.
“One of the key ingredients to the process is our essence, our blood.”
Basira shivered when he heard the words voiced aloud, swallowing his own saliva, “Do… do the people in the village know?”
“No, and I suspect that they don’t really care. Their fathers, and grandfather before then, all of them have been receiving our ‘gifts’ for the last few hundred years. Heh, ‘gifts’, a strange word that is… not to mention, in such a dangerous world, one can not fight against monsters without turning into a monster them self” he dipped his head in resignation, shaking them before looking at the boy one more time, so weak, and so frail. Forced to bear such a thing within him.
“Normally, it should have awoken within you when you reach 16 years of age. As it has for mine and your father and uncle, but you… too soon, too young. I am sorry boy.” His voice strained, causing Basira to frown.
“What happened to me, grandpa Eksa… and my mother, how… how did she die?” his voice cracked as he spoke, his fist clenching so hard that they turned white, Something is definitely wrong.
“When… one’s blood is awoken, they would go into an unstable state. Driven by hunger to the extreme, devouring everything within their sight.” When the last words exited his lips, he could see the boy’s eyes fade.
His arms slumped on the ground, his head slack and drooped shoulders, he knew what had happened.
“You need rest, so get some sleep, and don’t even try… We can’t die, I’ve attempted many times.” The grand elder spoke as he got up and left the room, leaving the boy behind in the darkness.
No amount of assurance can help him, no blame, no condolences, nothing.