The night smelled of ash.
The sky above Ember Hollow was blackened with smoke, its stars drowned in the glow of distant fire. Somewhere in the Charred Forest, something howled — not the cry of a beast, but something twisted. Something wrong.
Seventeen-year-old Kaen Ryo stepped through the scorched grass with bare, blood-caked feet, a broken katana in one hand, and a torch in the other. His robe was torn. His skin was blistered. The left side of his face still stung from the explosion. But none of that mattered.
Because his entire village was gone.
"Father… Mother…"
Charred bodies. Collapsed houses. Craters where children once played. The main shrine reduced to a pile of shattered stone and scorched bones. The ceremonial lanterns still flickered from the earlier festival — a cruel reminder of what was.
The Gloamspawn had come during the flame dance.
And they had taken everything.
Kaen stopped at the center of the village, where the shrine bell once stood tall.
He dropped to his knees.
There were thirteen corpses laid before him — elders, neighbors, even little Ina, the girl who used to sneak fireberries from his stall. His throat tightened as he placed his hand over her tiny face, now stiff and twisted.
But Mira was not among them.
His heart stirred. Hope? Fear?
He ran.
Past the rice paddies. Past the old smithy where his father once molded Embersteel. Past the fallen watchtower.
To the edge of the woods.
And there, beneath the twisted arms of a burned maple tree, he found her.
"MIRA!"
She was curled beneath its roots, her kimono soaked with blood — but not her own. Her long black hair clung to her pale cheeks. And her eyes… her eyes now shimmered violet in the dark, like dusk-glass.
"Kaen…" she whispered, voice cracked. "I'm… cold…"
He dropped beside her, cradled her against his chest.
"You're safe. I'm here now."
She didn't respond. Her hand gripped his robe, and that's when he saw it:
Black veins creeping up her arm, like spreading cracks.
"No… no, no…" he choked.
The curse rot.
She had been touched by a Gloamspawn.
Suddenly—
A sound. A thud. A growl.
Kaen turned.
From the shadowed treeline, a hulking figure emerged — nearly eight feet tall, draped in chains and torn silk, with bones jutting from its back like broken wings. Its face had no eyes, only a gaping, smiling mouth filled with yellow teeth.
It sniffed the air and turned to them.
A Gloamspawn.
"Mira," Kaen said slowly. "Don't move."
But she was unconscious.
The beast charged.
Kaen rose, screamed, and grabbed the broken katana his father had crafted — once ceremonial, now survival.
He swung.
The blade shattered on impact with the creature's hide.
Kaen was thrown back, crashing into a tree. His ribs screamed. The torch rolled away. The beast loomed over Mira now, its jaw unhinging with a hiss.
"No…"
He tried to crawl.
Tried to stand.
But he couldn't move.
He was going to lose her too.
Then—
A flicker.
A pulse in his chest.
A warmth.
His hand burst into crimson flame.
Not heat. Not burning.
Something… alive.
Instinct took over. He reached for the ruined sword hilt and, without thought, thrust it forward.
The flame flowed through the blade, reforging it for an instant — and as the Gloamspawn lunged—
Kaen slashed upward, carving through the beast's jaw and skull in a wave of searing light.
It roared. Screamed.
And exploded into black ash, scattering like snow.
Silence.
Kaen dropped the hilt. His hand smoked. His eyes burned.
Mira stirred.
"Kaen…?" she whispered.
"I'm here," he said, tears streaking down soot-covered cheeks. "I won't let it take you."
❖❖❖
Morning broke with red skies.
Kaen buried the villagers one by one, digging graves with bleeding hands. Mira lay under a shelter of branches, shivering from the curse rot. Her voice came in whispers. Her skin shifted between human and something else.
By the last grave, Kaen lit incense — but it wouldn't burn.
He reached out with his hand again.
And the same crimson fire danced to life on his fingers.
It wasn't just flame.
It was… memory. Emotion. Soulfire.
He used it to light the final pyre.
A voice came from behind him.
"You used Soulfire without training."
Kaen turned.
A man stood by the treeline — tall, cloaked in gray armor that shimmered with ghoststeel. A long sword rested on his back, wrapped in black cloth.
His face was weathered, but his eyes… sharp. Judging.
"I'm Daizo, of the Ashen Blades," the man said. "You're lucky you're still alive."
Kaen rose, chest heaving.
"She's cursed," he said, pointing to Mira. "She didn't choose this. I want to save her."
"No one saves the cursed," Daizo said. "Only releases them."
Kaen's hand flared with fire again. "Then I'll find another way. Even if I have to burn down this whole damned world."
Daizo looked at him for a long moment.
Then nodded once.
"You've been chosen by the Soulbrand. That fire is rare. Dangerous. It can save… or consume."
"I'll use it to kill them all," Kaen said. "Every Gloamspawn. Every thing that did this."
Daizo's voice dropped low.
"Then come with me. Learn to control that fire. Become one of us."
Kaen looked back at Mira.
Then the graves.
Then the forest.
He sheathed the broken hilt at his side and stepped forward.
"I'm ready."
❖❖❖
Far beyond the forest, in the ruins of a forgotten temple, a figure in bone-white robes stood before a mirror of blood.
"The boy awakened," the figure whispered, voice sharp and serene.
A dozen Gloamspawn knelt behind him.
"And the girl… the Half-Cursed. She lives."
The mirror pulsed with violet light.
The figure smiled.
"Let the fire come. We'll feed it."
✴️ END OF CHAPTER 1