Chapter 1: Brother and Blood

The sky above Pax Crossing was a dull shade of gray, as if even the heavens had long abandoned this land. The air smelled of damp earth and smoldering wood, carried by the wind from distant farmsteads. The dirt roads were uneven, lined with wooden houses that leaned on each other like old drunks. Life here was hard, and survival meant toil.

Among the many laborers of the slums, two brothers worked tirelessly to earn their keep. Kaiser and Kevin Reiss—born into hardship, raised by their own sweat and calloused hands. Their father was long gone, their mother buried beneath the fields they now tilled.

Kaiser, the elder, was built lean but strong, with a sharp gaze that carried defiance. Kevin, though younger, was more disciplined, his hands steadier, his temper more controlled. Together, they had forged a life in Pax Crossing—a life of struggle, but a life nonetheless.

At midday, they took shelter beneath a crumbling wooden awning, sharing a meal of stale bread and salted meat. Around them, laborers and merchants spoke in hushed tones.

"They say a man in the capital turned to smoke and vanished. Quas blood, they

say."

"Nonsense. Those stories are for children."

"You wouldn't say that if you saw it yourself. They say those with Quas blood can call upon creatures not of this world."

Kaiser scoffed, biting into his bread. "Every time someone does something unnatural, they blame 'Quas blood.'" Kevin smirked. "And yet, if it's real, wouldn't that mean we could have it too?" Kaisers hook his head. "If we had it, would we be living like this?" He gestured to the slums around them, where children begged for food and old men coughed into rags. "Face it, Kevin. We're nobodies." But as he spoke, he felt an uneasy shiver crawl up his spine, like something inside him disagreed.

By evening, after hours of hauling sacks of grain and repairing wooden carts, they made their way to the market square. A food stall sat at the corner, its scent of roasted meat tempting them. But before they could approach, a group of thugs stepped in first. The stall owner, a frail man, looked up in fear as the largest thug—a man with a scarred lip and a cruel grin—slammed his fist onto the counter.

"Time to pay up, old man." The brothers watched from a distance. Kevin exhaled slowly. "Not our fight, Kaiser." Kaiser's fists clenched. "Bastards like them shouldn't be allowed to do this." Scarred-lip man grabbed the stall owner's collar. The old man pleaded, "Please, I have children—" before being thrown to the ground. That was the last straw. Kaiser took a step forward.

"Oi," Kaiser called. The thugs turned, amusement flickering in their eyes. The thug laughed. "You got a problem, kid?" Kevin grabbed Kaiser's arm, whispering, "Don't. We can't win." But it was too late. he first punch came like a hammer to Kaiser's gut. He staggered, coughing as dirt and blood mixed in his mouth. Kevin tried to pull him away, but another thug grabbed him and slammed him against the wall. The beating was swift and brutal. Fists crashed into ribs. Boots struck against flesh. Kevin felt his lip split open, Kaiser tasted blood pooling on his tongue.

Soon, both brothers lay in the dirt, motionless The thugs laughed. "Next time, mind your own damn business." A thug pulled back his foot for one last kick— Then he froze. The air turned unnaturally cold. The laughter died in the thugs' throats as an eerie whisper slithered through the

alley. "You...dare... touch... my vessel?" From the shadows, a figure emerged. It was tall, cloaked in black mist, its form flickering between solid and spectral. Hollow eyes glowed like dying embers, and its jagged mouth curled into something inhumanly sinister.

The thugs barely had time to scream before the entity lunged.

A blur of black claws tore into flesh. Bones cracked. Blood splattered against the dirt walls. One by one, they were dragged into the darkness, their cries fading into nothing. Kaiser, barely conscious, felt the cold touch of something against his cheek. A voice, deep and ancient, whispered in his mind: "You are mine now." Darkness swallowed him.

The morning light seeped through the cracks of the worn-down wooden walls, casting

thin streaks of gold over the dirt floor. The air inside the small home was thick with the scent of dried blood and sweat. Kaiser Reiss stirred awake, his entire body aching from the brutal beating the night before. As soon as he moved, pain flared in his ribs, but... it wasn't as bad as it should have been. He shouldn't have been able to move at all.

Across the room, Kevin sat on a stool, wrapping a fresh bandage around his arm. His expression was distant, his body tense. The bruises on his face were a stark reminder of what had happened. "You're awake," Kevin muttered without looking up. Kaiser sat up slowly, gritting his teeth. "Barely." Kevin exhaled through his nose, finally meeting Kaiser's eyes. "Do you remember what

happened?" Kaiser hesitated. He remembered the thugs, the pain, the helplessness… and then—

"Call upon my name."

The voice from the dark. The thing that appeared. The way the air had turned cold and wrong before the screams of their attackers filled the night. "Not everything," Kaiser lied. Kevin studied him carefully before shaking his head. "Whatever that was… it wasn't

normal. I don't think we should talk about it. Kaiser clenched his fists. He could feel something different inside him, like an ember

waiting to be stoked into a wildfire. But he nodded.

"Fine. We move on."

Outside, Pax Crossing was waking up. People moved through the streets, carrying sacks of grain, hauling lumber, tending to livestock. Life continued as if nothing had happened.

But the moment the brothers stepped out of their home, they felt it. Eyes on them. Villagers stopped their work to glance at them—some in shock, others in suspicion. The brothers weren't supposed to be alive after a beating like that. Kaiser overheard whispers as they passed through the market.

"They should be dead."

"No one survives a beating like that."

"Maybe… maybe they're not normal."

Kevin kept his head down, pushing forward. Kaiser, however, felt his fists tightening. He hated being watched like an animal in a cage. "They're acting like we're monsters," Kaiser muttered under his breath.

Kevin didn't respond at first. Then, in a low voice, he said, "That's because they think we are."

They continued their work as if nothing had changed. Lifting, hauling, enduring. Their muscles ached, their bruises burned, but they couldn't afford to stop. But Kevin was watching. Kaiser

was recovering too quickly. The pain that should've crippled him was already fading. His movements were smoother, his strength returning faster than it should.

At the well, Kevin grabbed Kaiser's arm, his grip firm. "You need to be careful." Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "Of what?" "You're healing too fast," Kevin whispered. "People are already talking. If anyone thinks you have Quas blood—" "They'll turn on us," Kaiser finished for him. Kevin

nodded, his face serious. "Don't let anyone notice. If something feels… different, you tell me first."

Kaiser scoffed but didn't argue.

That night, as they sat on the floor of their home, sharing a modest meal of bread and soup, Kevin finally spoke the thought that had been eating at him all day. "I heard something today," he said, staring at his bowl. "In the capital, Quas-blooded people live better lives." Kaiser raised an eyebrow. "How so?" "Some join powerful factions. Some get recruited by nobles or become warriors. People

respect them, even fear them—but they don't starve like we do."

Kaiser leaned back, thoughtful. "So you're saying, if we had Quas blood, we wouldn't be nobodies anymore?"

Kevin hesitated. He didn't want to admit it, but deep down… he envied those people. The ones with power. The ones who weren't stuck in places like Pax Crossing, breaking their backs just to live another day.

And now, Kaiser had something that felt different. Something powerful. Kevin clenched his fist under the table.