"Death to you. I don't have what you're after…"The familiar brisk voice echoed through the room.
She remained hidden inside the narrow closet of her bedroom, knees pressed to her chest, heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Silence followed the two men's voices—tense, waiting, dangerous. Then came a thunderous blast, shaking the walls, followed by a piercing cry that tore straight through her heart. Her father's voice.
"Useless beast."
That calm, cold voice drifted through the hallway next, cruel and deliberate. She risked a tiny peek through the thin sliver between the closet doors.
A tall, slender man stood in the hallway, his face concealed beneath a rough, dark robe. The hood cast a shadow where his eyes should have been, yet she could feel his gaze cut through the dim air. Her small hands tightened over her mouth as her eyes widened at the sight of what he held, a wand.
It looked exactly like the one from her dreams. The same kind her mother used to hold.
She slid back inside, trembling. The conversation between the two men grew more unpleasant, words snapping like whips and punctuated by violent thuds that made the floor tremble. She pressed her palms against her ears, tears spilling freely. Her tiny fists clutched at her frock that mimicked a sunset dew, a cheerful shade that mocked the room's dull, gothic gloom.
"Kaasan…" she whispered between hiccups, curling tighter into herself.
Her father's voice came again, hoarse and desperate."I have no enmeshment with your lot. I don't know where you get your facts from—"
"How dare a lowly beast speak on level with a wizard of my status?"
The calm voice sliced through the air like a blade, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Then, unexpectedly, another voice joined them, soft but unshakably firm."The Ministry would love to hear from you."
"Kaasan…" The little girl's breath caught. That was her mother's voice.
"Very well," the calm voice replied. "Your beast of a husband was no use. Perhaps you could tell me then, where is it?"
She dared another glance through the slit. Her mother stood alone now, poised and unflinching.
"You've got the wrong house, Riddle," she said, her tone even, "I do not know what you're seeking."
A cold, mirthless laugh filled the house, and the very walls seemed to flinch. The girl shrank further inside the room, her tears running faster.
"You swore alliance with me," the man said, each word dipped in venom. "You won't be accepted in the wizarding world, not with your husband, at least. You're an outcast, both of you. You don't want that, do you? Not for your daughter."
For a moment, silence. Then,
A flash of blinding light burst through the air, flooding the cracks of the room's closed door. Her mother's wand had flared in defense. When the light faded, her mother was on the floor, motionless.
Her father screamed, a guttural, broken sound, and dropped beside her.
Standing above them, the man in the hooded robe watched, unflinching. The girl could see only the faint curve of his mouth, a faint curl of disgust, as if this scene were beneath his attention.
"Kaasan…"
She was about to rush out when soft hands suddenly clamped over her mouth, silencing her whimper.
Startled, she turned and met a pair of piercing golden eyes staring down at her. They glowed faintly in the darkness, not entirely human.
"You had to make things difficult," came that calm, cold voice again, this time directed at her father.
The tall man in the hood stood not far away, his wand still raised, his tone composed as though they were discussing weather.
"Such a shame," he murmured.
A gust of sound followed, the whoosh of magic unleashed and then, only silence. Her father's sobs were fainting in the background.
Outside, the angry murmur of a mob rose like a tide. Torches flickered in the distance, their light spilling over the earth like veins of fire. The golden-eyed lady beside her turned toward the chaos, her expression unreadable, then vanished into thin air without a trace.
For a brief, fragile moment, the girl forgot her fear. She tiptoed to the window sill, her small fingers gripping the frame, watching in dazed fascination as shadows moved outside. The crowd's shouts bled through the night air, muffled but furious.
"Ren!"
Her father's voice shook her back to reality.
She spun around. His face appeared in the doorway, pale and frantic, eyes wide with terror. Before she could react, he grabbed her, lifting her over his shoulder. She caught one last glimpse of the burning hallway behind him.
"Papa?" she whispered, her voice lost in the noise.
He didn't answer. His breaths came in ragged bursts as he sprinted through the collapsing corridor. The doors slammed behind them, sealing away the inferno. His grip on her tightened, as if letting go would mean losing her to the same darkness that had taken everything else.
In the dim light, she saw her mother's wand clutched in his trembling hands. His steps faltered. For a heartbeat, he stared at it, the slender piece of wood that still seemed to hum faintly with power. Then his jaw set, and he snapped it in half.
Once. Twice. Again.
The sound cracked through the hallway like broken bones.
He stuffed the splinters into his coat and pressed her closer to his chest, his heartbeat thundering in her ear. They reached the end of the hall. In that single moment before he turned away, Ren saw her mother's body still lying on the floor, the same place she had fallen moments ago.
Something in her tiny chest broke. Her arms reached out toward the motionless figure, her voice cracking into sobs. But her father didn't stop. His pace quickened, his breathing shallow.
The door burst open, and they stumbled into the cold night. The air smelled of smoke and earth, thick and sharp. The forest loomed ahead, dark and endless, its shadows swallowing them whole.
Behind them, the mob's roar grew louder. Flames licked at the roof of their home, turning the sky a furious red. The house had never looked so alive.
Ren's tears blurred her vision, the world melting into streaks of red and black. She pressed her face against her father's shoulder, her small voice muffled by his coat.
"Kaasan…"
He said nothing, only tightened his hold.
And then, through the haze of smoke and fear, she saw it again, the same pair of golden eyes watching from afar. They hovered in the darkness, calm and unblinking, like the gaze of a god or a curse.
The forest swallowed everything after that, the cries, the fire, the home she'd known, and the loving image of her Kaasan.
By the time her father slowed to a stop, dawn had begun to stain the horizon pale gray. He sank to his knees beside a stream, trembling. Ren slid from his shoulder and sat beside him, staring at the broken wand pieces he still clutched.
For a long time, he said nothing. Only the quiet hum of the forest filled the air, the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl, the faint hiss of water.
When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, cracked like old wood."Kaasan's gone, darlin'."
Ren didn't understand the full meaning of it. She was too young to grasp loss in its entirety. But she felt the hollow in his tone, the way it carried finality.
He caressed her hair, The man who had once stood tall now seemed smaller, dimmer, as though a piece of him had been burned away too.