Darkness was not absence.
It was presence.
It pressed down like a second skin—suffocating, cold, absolute.
Pain came next.
A slow-burning throb in my ribs. A stab of heat in my side. The faint taste of iron in my mouth.
I was alive.
Why?
Why was I alive?
The faces burned behind my eyelids—Milo and Miko chasing after frogs by the stream. Elda's gentle scolding when I was late for chores. Renji's stupid grin. Hiro's quiet strength. Aya, Theo, Kaela—
Gone.
Then—light. Flickering. Unnatural.
I opened my eyes to fire.
---
A ceiling of wooden beams swam above me. Rough walls. A stone hearth. The scent of herbs and smoke.
And voices.
"He's stirring," said a woman. Her voice was calm, but tired.
I turned my head, wincing.
Three strangers.
A woman with silver-white hair and a mask covering her face. A tall man leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw marked by a long, old scar. And a boy no older than me, sitting by the fire with eyes that watched like a hawk's.
"You shouldn't move," the woman said softly. "You were half-dead when we found you."
My lips cracked. "Colva…"
The word scraped out like ash.
"My… family… my brothers… friends…"
The man's expression shifted. Regret? Pity? I couldn't tell.
"We searched the ruins," he said. "You were the only one still breathing."
---
It broke me.
There wasn't a word. No scream strong enough. No sound large enough to carry the weight of it.
I shattered.
The sobs came raw and broken. My chest heaved until it hurt to breathe. I called their names—Milo, Miko, Elda, Aya, Theo, Kaela, Renji, Hiro—and no one answered. My body twisted with grief, but I couldn't escape it. It lived inside me now.
The woman stayed beside me through it all. Silent. Still.
There was nothing to be said.
---
Later, the scarred man sat near the hearth, sharpening a blade.
"The Demon Realm attacked your village," he said. "We saw the flames from a distance. Got there too late."
I stared at the fire, hollow.
"I saw them," I whispered. "Red eyes. Fangs. Claws. They slaughtered everyone. But… I fought. There was black fire… from me."
"You awakened your aura," said the boy. "A rare kind—darkened by trauma. It saved your life."
The woman added, "Your survival wasn't a blessing. It was a fracture. You walked through death—and came out something else."
---
I didn't speak again that night.
"Who are you?" I asked the next morning.
The man replied without looking at me. "No one important."
"We don't follow kings or priests," the woman added. "We move in shadows. We train the forgotten. The broken. Those denied justice."
"We saw what the world calls 'order,'" the boy murmured. "It's a lie wrapped in gold."
---
They believed the Demon Realm had destroyed Colva. I believed it, too. How could I not?
I'd seen the monsters. I'd felt their claws. I remembered the fire, the screams, the blood.
But something deep inside me—buried beneath the pain—felt wrong.
Like a wound that hadn't finished bleeding.
---
That night, I couldn't sleep. I stared at the wooden beams above me, the fire's glow dancing across the ceiling.
And I stopped.
Stopped asking questions.
Stopped speaking.
Stopped being… me.
Aisu—the smiling fool who woke up late, who dreamed of going to the academy with his friends—died in Colva.
What remained was hollow.
---
A day passed. Then another.
I ate when they gave food. I drank when they offered water.
But I didn't speak.
A week.
Two.
Three.
A full month.
Still nothing.
---
One night, by the fire, I heard them speak when they thought I was asleep.
"He hasn't said a word," the woman said quietly.
"He listens. He watches," said the man. "He's grieving. But not dying."
The boy looked at me from across the flames. "He's becoming something else."
The fire cracked loudly.
"Then the world should tremble."
---
I didn't flinch.
I didn't cry anymore.
I sat, and I watched the flames burn, wishing they'd take what was left of me.
But fire cannot burn ash.