chapter 1 - The Blood Omen

Chapter 1 – The Blood Omen

The night the stars bled red, I saw my first death.

I've always lived in the shadow of my unknown past. Raised in the slums of Vaelthar, I had no family, no lineage, just the name Kalen—a name that meant nothing. At least, that's what I told myself. That's what everyone else told me.

I didn't care. It was survival that mattered. Food. Shelter. Freedom. These were the things that kept me going, even if my existence felt empty and hollow.

But tonight, something was different.

The moon was a sickly shade of green, casting an eerie glow over the city. I stood by the alley, waiting for the usual delivery from the black market, when I noticed something—a figure standing motionless at the far end of the street. Their face hidden under a hood, their posture unnaturally still.

Something about the figure made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Before I could react, a man's scream shattered the night, followed by the sickening sound of something wet and sharp cutting through flesh. I turned quickly, my heart pounding in my chest.

The body fell into the shadows, crumpling against the ground. But I didn't run. No. I wasn't afraid. I was curious. Something called to me from the depths of that alley. I stepped forward, my boots echoing against the stone.

Then, I saw it.

A man—his throat torn open, blood pooling beneath him in the damp street. But that wasn't the strangest thing about the scene. It was the mark carved into his chest.

A warlock sigil—the ancient rune of Zeroth, the dead warlock king. I'd seen it in old books, in whispered legends, but to see it carved into a man's skin? That was impossible. The symbol was thought to have been erased from existence centuries ago.

But there it was, burned into his flesh like a brand, glowing faintly in the darkness.

And as I knelt beside the body, my hand brushing against the man's skin, I felt something—something inside me—pulse in response.

A sudden shock. A wave of heat flooding my veins.

I gasped, stumbling backward. The mark on my hand, the one I'd always thought was a birthmark, glowed.

It wasn't a birthmark.

I tried to make sense of what was happening. But the words didn't come. I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like it was tightening, my heart pounding like a drum inside my ribs. I looked back down at the corpse, the mark still glowing in my mind's eye.

That's when I heard it.

A voice.

Low. Cold. It didn't come from the man, but from within me.

"Finally found you, heir of the damned."

I felt my breath catch in my throat. The voice wasn't mine, and it wasn't coming from anyone in the alley. It was like a distant echo, a whisper from the abyss itself, carrying words meant only for me.

But before I could react, the alley grew darker. The shadows stretched unnaturally, like they were reaching toward me. I tried to stand, but my legs were weak, trembling as if they weren't mine anymore.

And then—

A figure appeared.

The hooded figure who had been watching from the shadows.

They stood at the end of the alley, their presence almost suffocating. I couldn't see their face, but I could feel their eyes on me, cold and unfeeling.

Without a word, the figure stepped forward. They didn't walk—they glided, as if the very air around them bent to their will.

I instinctively backed away, but my body felt sluggish, as if the darkness itself had rooted me to the ground.

"You're stronger than I thought." The voice echoed again, though I couldn't tell if it was the figure speaking or the voice inside my head.

I felt power.

It was raw. Untamed. Like a beast held in check by invisible chains. But it was mine, somehow. A power I never knew I had.

The figure reached out, its fingers long and impossibly slender. Their hands were covered in dark gloves, the fabric shimmering with an unsettling glow. Slowly, they reached for me, and I felt a deep pull—something calling to me, drawing me toward them.

"You don't know what you are, do you?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Power. The word flashed through my mind again, this time stronger.

I felt it now, inside me—bubbling to the surface like a storm about to break. It was dark, twisted, but it was there. My hand burned with the same mark I'd seen on the corpse, and I could feel the power churning in my veins, begging to be unleashed.

I screamed.

The power burst.

Energy erupted from my body, a blinding surge of dark light that shattered the silence of the alley. My vision blurred, and I stumbled back, hands raised to shield my eyes.

When the light faded, the figure was gone. The alley was empty.

The corpse remained.

I looked down at my hands, trembling as I tried to process what had just happened. My heart was still racing, but the power inside me… it was there.

That mark. That curse. That voice.

Everything I thought I knew about myself—everything I thought I had lost—was unraveling before my eyes. And I had no idea what was coming next.

But one thing was certain:

I was no longer just Kalen.