Chapter 1 – The Night the Moon Watched
The night smelled of burning wood and fresh rain.
Ariel sat by the open window of his home, staring at the vast sky above. The moon hung low, pale and unyielding, its light casting silver streaks across the rooftops of Eldrin. The town was quiet, its people already tucked away in their homes, lulled to sleep by the distant chirping of night insects.
He should have been asleep, too. His little brother, curled up in the shared cot behind him, had long since drifted off. His parents' hushed conversation from the other room had faded into silence. Yet Ariel remained awake, drawn to the sight of the sky—drawn to the moon.
It always felt strange when he looked at it. There was something about it that made the air feel thinner, made his chest feel heavier.
Like something was watching him back.
A chill ghosted down his spine, and he exhaled slowly, shaking the feeling away. He was just restless.
Tomorrow, he would turn fifteen.
The Lightbound Order would come, as they did every year, to test those who had come of age. The Awakening. The moment a child's Legacy would either reveal itself—or not at all.
A flicker of excitement stirred in his chest, but it was tempered by something heavier. Something closer to dread.
What if nothing happened?
His father always said that the world didn't favor the weak. That without power, a man was just prey for those who had it.
Ariel clenched his fists. He didn't want to be weak.
The wind carried the scent of wet earth through the open window. Leaves rustled in the distance, a gentle whisper in the night. For a moment, it was peaceful.
And then the screaming began.
Ariel jolted upright.
It came from the far side of town, faint at first—barely more than a distant cry carried by the wind. But within moments, the screams multiplied. Louder. Sharper. Raw and agonized.
Fear.
A terrible, deep rumble followed, like the earth itself was groaning.
Ariel turned sharply toward the window just as a strange violet glow flickered across the rooftops. It wasn't firelight. It was unnatural, cold and twisting, casting jagged shadows along the walls of his home.
The air thickened. It pressed against his lungs, heavy and wrong, like something vast and hungry was pushing into the world.
His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.
Then the first explosion hit.
A tremor shook the ground beneath him, rattling the walls of their home. His little brother stirred in his sleep, whimpering.
Then the door burst open.
His father stood there, his face pale, eyes dark with urgency.
Ariel had never seen him look scared before.
His father was a tall, powerful man, his sharp features worn by time and hardship. His eyes—normally hard and calculating—were now filled with something Ariel had never seen in them.
Dread.
"Get your brother. Stay close."
His body moved before his mind caught up. He turned, grabbing his younger brother from the cot. The boy stirred, blinking up at him in confusion.
"Shh," Ariel whispered, pressing a hand over his mouth. He didn't know why. Just that the night suddenly felt hostile.
His father watched him, his expression softening for only a second before he turned and rushed toward the front of the house.
The next scream came from much closer.
Outside, the world had already begun to collapse.
The town square—once lively with merchants and laughter—was now drenched in flickering violet light. The Rift had torn the sky apart, a massive gash of swirling darkness floating above the ruins of a crumbled building.
And from it, they came.
Their bodies were wrong.
Vaguely humanoid, but stretched, elongated, their flesh shifting and pulsing like something unfinished. Their eyes—if they could be called that—were hollow voids, consuming the light around them.
And they were hunting.
The town guards fought desperately, their weapons flashing as they clashed against the creatures. But even to Ariel's untrained eyes, it was clear.
They were losing.
The creatures were too strong. Too fast.
And there were too many of them.
His mother clutched his arm tightly, her breath shallow. "We have to go—"
The wall beside them exploded inward.
Ariel was thrown to the ground, the impact slamming the breath from his lungs. His ears rang, his vision swimming with dust and debris.
Through the haze, he saw it.
A towering, jagged figure, its limbs too long, its head tilted at a sickening, unnatural angle.
Abyssal energy crackled around it.
Its hollow gaze locked onto them.
Ariel couldn't move.
His father did.
With a roar, he charged forward, axe swinging in a wide arc. The weapon sank into the creature's chest—
—And did nothing.
The monster didn't even react.
Ariel barely had time to process the horror before the creature moved.
A single, effortless swipe.
A wet, sickening sound.
His father stopped moving.
The axe slipped from his fingers. He staggered, mouth opening like he wanted to say something—
And then collapsed.
Ariel's vision blurred. His heartbeat stuttered.
His mother screamed, pushing him backward.
His little brother sobbed against his chest.
"Run," his mother whispered.
The creature lunged.
Ariel felt time slow.
The air around him shifted—something deep inside him stirred, something ancient and cold.
A voice, distant and melodic, whispered in his mind.
Child of the moon… awaken.
Then the world shattered.
Pain ripped through him. A searing, impossible agony that made him feel like he was being torn apart from the inside.
His vision burned white.
His very blood hummed with raw, unfiltered power.
His hair turned silver.
His eyes burned like twin moons.
And then—everything broke.
He didn't control it. He couldn't.
The power exploded outward, a tidal wave of moonlit destruction.
The creature.
His home.
The very earth beneath him.
All of it—obliterated.
Then… silence.
The Lightbound Order's Arrival
Ariel woke to ruins.
The air was thick with the acrid stench of burned wood and something worse—the lingering scent of Blood and Abyssal corruption.
Footsteps crunched against broken stone.
Ariel barely registered them before rough hands grabbed his arm, lifting him upright.
"Alive," a voice muttered. "This one's alive."
He tried to speak. His throat was too dry.
The figures before him were clad in white and gold armor, their crests unmistakable.
The Lightbound Order.
Their leader crouched before him, her sharp gaze scanning him.
"You were at the center of this," she said, not unkindly. "You should be dead."
Ariel couldn't answer.
Because he didn't know, either.
The knight studied him for a long moment before speaking again.
"Take him to the Citadel."
Then in his head he heard A voice. Soft. Melodic.
"Fear not, my child..."
"I will take the pain away."
Darkness swallowed him whole.