Chapter One: The Girl Who Sees

The first time Aria saw death, she was five years old.

She had been playing outside the old cottage where she lived with her mother, chasing fireflies as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. The world had felt safe then, small and warm, cradled by the thick forests that surrounded their home.

But then—

The vision struck.

It came like a sudden gust of wind, sweeping her away from the present and into something else.

A man. His face was pale, his lips parted as if caught mid-scream. His hands clawed at his throat, his eyes bulging with terror. Behind him, a figure loomed, obscured by darkness, holding a glinting blade.

Then—blood.

A horrible, wet gurgling noise.

The man fell.

And just like that, the vision was gone.

Aria stumbled backward, gasping, her small hands clutching at her chest as she tried to catch her breath. Her head throbbed, her body cold despite the summer air.

She had never seen the man before, yet she knew—he was going to die.

Tears stung her eyes as she ran inside, searching for her mother.

"Momma! Momma!" she sobbed, gripping her mother's skirts with tiny fingers.

Her mother knelt, brushing Aria's wild curls from her face. "What is it, love? What happened?"

Aria tried to explain. The vision. The man. The certainty of his death.

Her mother's face paled. Her hands tightened on Aria's shoulders. "You must never speak of this," she whispered. "Never, do you understand?"

Aria shook her head, confused.

"But I have to warn him—"

"No!" Her mother's voice was sharp. Too sharp. "You cannot. People will not understand."

"But—"

Her mother's hands cupped her face, softer this time. "Promise me, Aria."

Tears slid down Aria's cheeks.

"…I promise."

And so she swallowed her fear, her confusion, her desperate need to help.

That night, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the vision.

The next morning, the village bell tolled.

A man had been found dead.

His throat slit.

Just as she had seen.

That was the first time. But it would not be the last.

Years passed, but the visions never stopped.

They came without warning—sometimes in dreams, sometimes when she touched someone's hand, sometimes when she least expected it. And no matter how hard she tried to ignore them, to push them away, they always came true.

She learned to hide them.

She learned to smile even when she felt like screaming.

Because the world did not take kindly to girls who saw things they shouldn't.

And yet, despite her efforts, the whispers began.

"Strange girl."

"Cursed."

"Unnatural."

The village folk eyed her warily. Mothers pulled their children away when she passed. Shopkeepers hesitated before handing her goods, their fingers grazing hers for the briefest second before recoiling, as if afraid she might see something about them.

She was alone.

Until Callan.

Callan had been different. He was one of the few people who still spoke to her, who still treated her like she was human.

She told herself she wouldn't get attached, that she wouldn't let herself hope—

But she had.

And that hope had shattered the day she saw his death.

It had been the worst vision yet.

Callan, lying in a pool of his own blood. His chest rising and falling in ragged gasps, his hand reaching—toward her.

His lips forming her name.

Then—stillness.

She had warned him. She had begged him not to go into the forest that night.

He had laughed it off, ruffling her hair.

"Aria, you worry too much. I'll be fine."

He wasn't.

The next morning, his body was found exactly as she had seen.

The village turned against her completely after that.

"She knew!"

"She must have done it!"

"She's cursed!"

And Aria—Aria had nothing left to say.

She didn't fight back. She didn't try to plead her innocence.

Because deep down, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, they were right.

Maybe her visions weren't just glimpses of fate.

Maybe they were warnings.

Maybe they were curses.

And maybe—

Maybe she was meant to be alone.

The rain poured heavily as she walked, her cloak soaked through, her boots sinking into the mud.

She didn't know where she was going. She only knew she couldn't stay.

Not anymore.

The village had made that clear.

A sharp gust of wind blew through the trees, sending a chill through her bones. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

She pulled her cloak tighter around herself and pressed forward.

The road stretched on, winding through the forest like a serpent. The trees loomed tall and gnarled, their branches reaching like skeletal fingers against the dark sky.

Then—

A noise.

A rustling in the bushes.

Aria froze.

She wasn't alone.

Her heart pounded as she turned, scanning the shadows.

A flicker of movement.

Something—or someone—was watching her.

She gripped the hilt of her small dagger, the one Callan had given her months ago, and took a cautious step back.

A whisper drifted through the trees, barely audible over the rain.

"Seer."

The word sent a chill down her spine.

It wasn't the first time she had heard it.

But this time—this time, it wasn't spoken with fear.

It was spoken with reverence.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. "Who's there?"

Silence.

Then—

A figure stepped from the shadows.

Tall. Cloaked. Its face obscured.

But its eyes—

They glowed.

Aria's breath hitched.

She should have run.

She should have screamed.

But instead—

She stayed.

Because for the first time in her life, she wasn't just seeing something terrifying.

She was a part of it.

And deep down—deep in the marrow of her bones—

She knew that whatever happened next…

Her life would never be the same.

The figure stood motionless, its glowing eyes locked onto Aria. The rain fell heavier now, drumming against the earth in a steady rhythm, masking the sound of her own erratic breathing.

She tightened her grip on her dagger. "Who are you?" she asked again, her voice steady despite the cold fear creeping up her spine.

The figure took a step forward, slow and deliberate.

"Seer," it said again, its voice a whisper carried by the wind. "You are the one who sees."

Aria's throat tightened. No one had ever called her that so directly before. Even in the village, they only muttered it behind her back, as if saying it aloud would bring them bad luck.

"Stay back," she warned, brandishing her dagger.

The figure halted, tilting its head. "You fear me."

"Of course, I do," she snapped. "You're lurking in the woods in the middle of a storm, whispering strange things. That's not exactly comforting."

A low chuckle rumbled from the figure, though it carried no warmth. "You misunderstand, Seer. It is not I you should fear."

A sudden gust of wind howled through the trees, and the figure vanished.

Aria's heart slammed against her ribs.

Gone.

Just like that.

She spun in place, searching the darkness, but there was nothing—only the rain, the trees, and the distant glow of lightning flickering across the sky.

Had she imagined it?

No. She knew what she saw.

And she had seen him.

But what had he meant? It is not I you should fear.

A shiver crawled down her spine.

She didn't wait to find out.

Tucking her dagger back into its sheath, she hurried down the road, her pulse still racing. She needed shelter. A place to gather her thoughts.

There was an abandoned barn not far from here, if she remembered correctly. If she could just make it there, she could rest, dry off, and—

The air shifted.

A presence.

This time, it wasn't the figure from before.

This was something else.

Something wrong.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

Slowly, she turned.

At first, she saw nothing but the rain-soaked trees.

Then—

Eyes.

Not human.

Too many.

Gleaming in the darkness, watching her from the shadows.

A guttural clicking noise filled the air, something neither fully animal nor human. It sent a pulse of raw fear through her body.

Aria didn't hesitate.

She ran.

Her boots pounded against the muddy path as she sprinted toward the barn, her breath coming in sharp gasps. Behind her, the clicking grew louder, faster, moving in tandem with her own frantic steps.

It was following her.

She could feel it.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the forest for a split second—just long enough for her to see it.

A twisted, gaunt figure, its body unnaturally long, its fingers stretched into claws, its skin a patchwork of deep, jagged scars. It moved in bursts, flickering between the trees, impossibly fast.

Her stomach turned.

She wasn't imagining this. This wasn't a vision.

It was real.

The barn came into view—a dark silhouette against the stormy sky.

She pushed herself harder, her legs burning with effort.

Almost there—

A shriek tore through the air behind her.

Aria stumbled, but she didn't stop. She flung herself toward the barn door, yanking it open just as another bolt of lightning split the sky.

She threw herself inside, slamming the door shut and pressing her back against the wood, her chest heaving.

Silence.

Only the rain and her own ragged breathing.

Had it followed her?

She strained her ears, listening.

Nothing.

Slowly, she peeled herself away from the door, taking in her surroundings. The barn was old, its wooden beams warped with time. Hay littered the floor, and a few rusted tools were scattered about.

It wasn't much.

But it was safe.

Or so she thought.

A faint scratching noise broke the silence.

Not from the door.

From above.

Aria's blood ran cold.

She tilted her head back, her breath catching in her throat.

A shadow shifted in the rafters.

Not alone.

A low, wet breathing echoed in the darkness.

Then—a drop of black liquid landed on her cheek.

Aria's heart stopped.

The thing was above her.

She reacted on instinct, diving to the side just as something heavy crashed to the floor where she had been standing moments before.

The impact shook the barn.

Aria scrambled to her feet, eyes wide as she finally saw the creature up close.

It was worse than she had imagined.

Its limbs were too long, its head tilted at an unnatural angle, its mouth lined with rows of needle-thin teeth. Dark liquid oozed from its body, staining the floor beneath it.

And its eyes—

Its many, many eyes—

They were all locked onto her.

Aria clenched her fists.

She was terrified.

But she wasn't helpless.

Reaching into her satchel, she pulled out a small vial of crushed herbs—one of the few things her mother had left her. It wasn't much, but if this thing was a spirit or some cursed being, it might be enough.

She threw the powder at the creature.

For a split second, nothing happened.

Then—

The thing screamed.

A shrill, unnatural wail that sent a sharp pain through Aria's skull.

It thrashed, its many eyes blinking wildly, its body convulsing as the powder burned through its form like fire.

Now was her chance.

Aria bolted for the back door, fumbling with the rusty latch. It stuck for a moment before finally giving way, and she stumbled into the storm once more.

She didn't look back.

She just ran.

The rain pounded against her skin, her breath sharp and shallow.

She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to keep moving.

Because tonight, she had seen something different.

Not just death.

Not just fate.

But something worse.

Something hunting her.

Something that might not stop until it had her.

And for the first time in her life, Aria wondered—

Had she really been seeing death all along?

Or had she been calling it to her?