The night was cold—bone-chilling cold. The kind that crept under the skin and whispered tales of sorrow to the trees. Moonlight filtered weakly through thick clouds, casting a silver hue over the forest. Deep within the woods, far from the warmth of any village or road, stood a modest wooden house. Isolated, worn, but alive.
Inside this humble shelter lived two souls—Hazel and Luna, a couple in their twilight years. Once respected and wealthy villagers, they now lived far from society, not by choice, but by cruelty. Their kindness had been repaid with greed. Jealousy had poisoned the hearts of their neighbors, and in a cruel twist of fate, the very people they had once helped took everything from them—their home, their possessions, their dignity. All because of their selfless nature and the immense wealth they had refused to wield with arrogance.
Now, deep within a forest that most dared not enter, they found peace. They had no children, no relatives. Just each other—and the sound of the wind dancing through the trees.
That evening, Hazel left early to collect firewood and, if luck favored, catch something to make a decent dinner for Luna. He wrapped his cloak tightly as the cold deepened with every step. The forest was silent—eerily so. The crunch of dried leaves beneath his boots echoed like a ghost's whisper.
But then… a sound.
A soft, fragile cry. Faint, yet distinct.
Hazel froze. The cry rang again, deeper in the woods this time—a baby's cry.
With no hesitation, he dashed toward it, his old legs surprisingly swift. He pushed through thick brambles and twisted roots, following the sound until he reached a small clearing.
There, lying in the snow-covered earth, wrapped in thin cloth—a baby.
Alone.
Crying.
Hazel's heart raced. He rushed to the child, scooping him up gently. The baby was cold to the touch but alive. His hair was pure white, as if dusted by snow before birth. His skin, pale as the winter moon. And his eyes—pitch black, like a well with no bottom, filled with silence and mystery.
Hazel didn't stop to question fate. He wrapped the baby tighter in his cloak and rushed home.
—
When Luna saw Hazel return so quickly, she stepped away from the small hearth, wiping her hands on her apron. "Back already? Did something happen? Did you find something?"
Hazel didn't answer immediately. He simply stepped forward, unwrapping the cloak to reveal the tiny child cradled in his arms.
Luna gasped.
"A baby?" Her voice trembled.
Hazel nodded slowly and shared what he'd seen.
Luna moved closer, her eyes widening, and tears welled up without resistance. "Oh, Hazel…" she whispered, brushing a trembling hand across the child's tiny face.
Despite the sorrow of the moment, there was something deeply warm in the room—a quiet, radiant joy. Luna, who had never borne children, suddenly felt the weight of a miracle in her arms. Tears of pain and happiness blended as she cradled the child close to her chest.
"No child should be left in the woods to be taken by wolves," Hazel said softly. "Someone abandoned him, Luna. We don't know why… but I couldn't leave him there."
Luna nodded, kissing the child's forehead. "We will raise him," she said with unwavering certainty. "He's ours now."
The baby, as if understanding their warmth, reached up with his tiny, soft hands and gently grasped Luna's finger. Then Hazel's. The couple looked at each other—and smiled.
"It's a sign," Luna whispered. "A new light for our old hearts."
They didn't know where the child came from. They didn't even know his name. But to Luna, he looked noble… almost otherworldly.
She smiled down at him.
"We'll call him… Kyle."
And thus, under the shadows of the ancient forest and the quiet witness of the stars, a new chapter in both their lives began. One filled with mystery, warmth, and the promise of something far greater than they could imagine.
They had no idea… that this child, Kyle, was unlike any other.
Not in this world.
Not in any.
---
[End of Chapter 1]