You never forget the first time you see a Malignant.
Abell was six when he saw his first Malignant. He never forgot. The thing crawled out of the forest, resembling a total nightmare. Its body twisted, barely resembling what it had been. A magenta light throbbed under its skin, pulsing wild and uneven. Its eyes burned with raw hunger. Abell's legs locked. Every instinct screamed run, but he couldn't move.
He'd wandered too far, chasing a bird he couldn't even remember. Just being a dumb kid, and now he was going to die for it.
The creature's jaw opened with a wet, tearing sound. Abell saw straight down its throat, smelled the rot pouring out. His mind went blank with terror.
Suddenly, a blade of golden light sliced through its neck.
The head hit the ground with a heavy thud. The body stood for a second, then collapsed, dissolving into black ash that scattered on the wind.
Genevieve stood between Abell and the corpse, her falchion still shining with light. She was sixteen, and right then, she looked completely calm—everything Abell wasn't.
She turned to him, and her expression softened when she saw his tears. "Hey, it's alright. I've got you."
Abell couldn't speak or move.
Genevieve knelt next to him and put her bloodstained hand on his shoulder. "Listen to me, Bell. These things are called Malignants. They're monsters. But they can be killed." She held up her blade. "With this, and with Luminous energy—the power in our blood."
"Luminous... energy?" The words came out barely more than a whisper.
"Our world's gift from the liberator." She smiled at him, fierce and certain. "One day you'll have the strength to use it too. And when you do, you'll never have to be scared like this again."
She pulled him close, and he broke down sobbing into her shoulder. Her heart beat steadily against his ear, proof that monsters could be defeated, that fear could be conquered.
"I'll always protect you, Abell," she whispered into his hair. "That's a promise."
But she couldn't keep that promise.
Abell stood in the backyard of their small house in Iridius, looking up at the sky. He couldn't stop thinking about that day in the forest. Genevieve saving him. Her promise.
She'd disappeared years ago on a mission somewhere in Eudora. Her body wasn't found, and there was no closure. She was just... gone.
"Abell!"
His mother's voice snapped him out of it. Keeko stood at the back door with her arms crossed. She was lean and tough, her dark hair streaked with silver and hanging past her shoulders. Even at forty-two, she moved like someone half her age. Her eyes matched Abell's, bright green.
"Stop spacing out. We need to go to the market."
He nodded and followed her.
The market buzzed with life. Townsfolk shouted, vendors hawked their goods, and laughter cut through the air. Voices blended into the comfortable noise of daily life.
Abell walked behind Keeko through the bustling crowd, the smell of baked bread filling his nose and making his stomach rumble. She paused to inspect a row of loaves while chatting easily with the vendor, who lit up at the sight of her.
Abell remained a few steps behind, his attention drifting to the crowd until nearby voices rose above the general noise.
"Malignant attacks are getting worse," a woman said, her voice sharp with worry. "When will those damned elites help us?"
"You know the Alsaints are too busy lining their pockets," another woman scoffed. "When's the last time you saw a Luminary stationed here? We're nothing to them."
Her friend sighed heavily. "Do any of the Four Families even care?"
Abell tilted his head, trying to make sense of the conversation, the Four Families, the great houses that supposedly protected all of Eudora. Out here in the western regions, far from the capital cities, their protection felt more like a myth than reality.
Keeko nudged him, snapping him from his thoughts. "C'mon, keep up. I finished at this stall already."
As they moved through the crowd, Abell noticed how the villagers greeted Keeko with appreciation, thanking her for her protection with warm smiles and respectful nods. He felt some pride, but a part of him still felt bitter. She wasn't always this well-regarded. Years ago, them walking to the market would've been town gossip.
Abell drifted away from his mother as she shopped, his feet carrying him toward the center of the market without thinking.
At the heart of the square stood a towering statue of the Liberator, arms crossed, gaze cast toward the horizon. The figure who'd supposedly given humanity the power to fight back against the Malignants, though most of the details had been lost to history and legend.
Abell stared up at it, his fists clenching at his sides without him realizing.
It's so damn boring here. I need something new.
"Face me, Abell!"
The challenge rang out across the market, breaking him from his thoughts.
Abell sighed without even turning. He already knew who this was.
Misha, the ever-energetic little troublemaker, was perched atop a stall, gripping a small wooden sword like a seasoned warrior ready for battle. His eyes gleamed with wonder and excitement.
"Misha! Get down from there!" A girl's exasperated voice followed close behind.
The girl rushed forward, her brown hair swaying behind her as she tried to catch her little brother before he did something stupid. "Sorry, Abell. He's always like this when you're around."
"It's cool, Astrid. No worries." Abell said.
Misha leaped down with a thud. "Fight me!" He grinned up at Abell, pointing his wooden sword with absolute seriousness. "Show me your Lux!"
"Not now, Misha."
But Misha was relentless. With a dramatic battle cry that made several nearby shoppers turn and smile, he charged forward with his wooden sword raised high.
Abell sidestepped with ease, flicking Misha's nose mid-swing with just enough force to make a point. The little boy yelped, tumbling backward and landing on his ass.
"No fair!" Misha whined, rubbing his face with one hand while still clutching his wooden sword with the other. "You're supposed to use your Lux, not just your hand!"
"It's not a toy," Abell said, with an air of cockiness. "Besides, you're not worth the effort."
The comment drew laughter from some of the onlookers, but Abell noticed a few people frowning, murmuring among themselves. He caught fragments of their conversations, something about respect, about showing off, about his sister never being so harsh.
Ugh. So damn boring.
Before the moment could get more uncomfortable, rapid footsteps approached from behind. Someone was running full sprint through the market. People scattered as a man, one of the farmers from the outlying homesteads, burst into the square, his face pale and his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Abell!" he shouted, desperation clear in his voice. "Where's your mother, Keeko?!"
The market went silent. Every conversation died as people turned to listen, fear creeping into their expressions.
"She's not here," Abell said. "She's probably at a stall up ahead."
"Dammit!" The farmer doubled over, hands on his knees. "At The Millia farm—Malignants! At least two of them! The family's trapped!"
Panic rippled through the crowd. People looked at each other, uncertain. "Please, someone, go notify Lady Keeko," he screamed.
"Now's my chance," Abell grinned. "Relax, old man. I'll handle it. Don't worry."
"But you're—"
"I said I'll take care of it. Jeez, don't underestimate me. I'm a Vespera, after all." He smirked, thumbing his chest.
"Abell, wait!" Astrid grabbed his arm, her grip surprisingly strong. "Don't even think about it."
"They need help—"
"They need your mother, not you. "You'll get yourself killed! Remember last time?"
"Screw the past." He pulled his arm free. "There's a family out there in need, Astrid. No way I'm not going."
"You're not strong enough!"
"You'll see."
"Abell—wait"
But he was already running; nothing was going to stop him at this point.
Behind him, Astrid's voice carried across the square, tinged with fear: "You're going to get yourself killed, you idiot!"
Maybe.
But at least it was something fun.
The Millia farm sat on the eastern outskirts of Iridius, where the organized village streets gave way to scattered homesteads and open fields. By the time Abell arrived, his lungs burning from the sprint, he could already hear the screams.
Two Malignants prowled the property like predators cornering their prey. Wolf-types, but their bodies were distorted and surrounded by a corrupted aura. Magenta light pulsed beneath their matted fur, and their eyes burned with that same corrupted aura.
The Millia family, parents and their young daughter, were trapped against their farmhouse, the father holding a pitchfork with shaking hands while his wife clutched their child behind him.
Abell's arrival drew the wolves' attention. They turned together, those burning eyes fixing on this new presence.
"Perfect, something interesting is going down." He smirked.
Abell opened his hand.
Golden sparks began flickering across his palm, like embers catching in dry wood. Then they twisted, spinning faster and brighter, until they combined into a cluster of pure sword light.
FWOOOM!
A flash of radiance erupted from his hand, brilliant and blinding. The light solidified, taking shape as a sword, straight and sharp, its blade formed entirely of golden energy that pulsed with each beat of his heart.
The Solblade. Or Lux Blade. Or Shining Light. Name is still a work in progress.
The weapon hummed in his grip, weightless, and its edges flickered like a candle flame struggling against the wind.
The wolves snarled, sensing the threat in that golden light.
"Don't worry, Mr. Millia, I've got this," Abell said.
The older gentleman just nodded, too frightened to get words out.
The first wolf lunged. Abell sidestepped, his blade coming up in an arc that caught the creature across its flank. Golden light flared where weapon met corrupted flesh. The wolf yelped and spun, snarling.
The second wolf tried going for the family. Abell wouldn't let it. He threw himself between them, his blade moving on instinct now, block, parry, strike. The movements Keeko had drilled into him over his years of training.
The first wolf attacked from his left. He dropped low, letting its claws pass over his head, then drove his blade up into its exposed underbelly. Golden light erupted from the wound. The creature shrieked, thrashing as his blade tore it apart from the inside.
One down.
The second wolf charged with renewed fury. Abell's blade met its jaws, golden light flaring as corrupted teeth scraped against pure energy. His arms trembled from the force. The wolf pressed down, stronger than the first, driving him to one knee.
I can't win with power. Fine, let's try this.
Abell recalled his blade.
The wolf stumbled forward as resistance vanished. In that half-second of imbalance, Abell rolled to the side and came up behind it. His blade reformed, and he drove it into the creature's spine with everything he had.
Two down.
Abell stood there, breathing hard. His blade flickered but held steady, and blood dripped from a shallow cut on his arm. Even with the pain, he managed a small smirk, proud of what he'd done.
The Millia family stared at him with wide eyes, relief and shock mixing on their faces.
He'd done it. Two Grade-D Malignants. Alone.
Finally! I beat two at once. He yelled it inside his head.
"Thank you, Abell," Mr. Millia breathed. "Thank you so—"
The ground around the farm rumbled hard.
Something massive emerged from the treeline at the edge of the property. Not a wolf but a wolf-bear hybrid standing on two feet. Easily six feet tall. Its body pulsed with that same magenta glow. It looked like it was overflowing with energy. Its eyes looked as if they were melting into its skin, and its jaw was open, hanging by a thread.
Grade-B. Maybe higher.
The Grade-B Abell's blood turned to ice. His blade flickered and died, his Lux exhausted from the previous fight. He tried to summon it again, but Golden sparks sputtered across his palm and faded, but nothing came.
I'm screwed, aren't I?
The beast fixed its burning gaze on him. It knew. Knew he was the one who'd killed its pack and knew he was vulnerable. It charged hard and fast, destroying the crops beneath it.
Abell dove to the side and hit the ground hard. The beast's claws ripped through where he'd just been, tearing deep furrows in the dirt. He scrambled back, trying to summon his blade, but nothing happened.
The beast loomed over him. This close, Abell could see down its throat, could smell the rot, could feel the heat radiating from its corrupted body.
For a moment, he felt six years old again. Frozen, helpless, just waiting for death.
He wanted to run. But he looked back at the little girl and her family. He couldn't run.
So it's gonna end like this... How pathetic. Sorry Genevieve.
He stood up again, ready to face whatever came next.
"You three should leave." He said to the family.
"But Abell, what about you?" Mr. Millia asked.
Don't worry. Just go!
Mr. Millia ran with his family away from the chaos, leaving Abell alone to face the Malignant.
Abell smirked, bracing himself for the hit. The Malignant roared even louder, showing off its power. Magenta energy poured from every crack in its body, building up for a final attack.
Then.
Golden chains erupted from nowhere.
They wrapped around the Malignant's body, binding its limbs, its jaws, its entire massive form in bonds of pure light that burned like miniature suns. The creature thrashed, but the chains held firm.
A man walked into Abell's vision, moving with confidence despite the monster struggling just feet away. He was tall and lean, black-haired, with sharp features and traveling clothes. But what caught Abell's attention, what made his breath catch, were the man's eyes.
Star-shaped pupils. Like nothing Abell had ever seen. They blazed with golden light, reflecting the energy that flowed from him like water from a spring.
"Stay down already," the stranger said calmly, those star-shaped eyes never leaving the Malignant.
His chains tightened. The alpha's shriek turned to a strangled cry as golden light burned through corrupted flesh, eating it from the inside out. The creature thrashed one final time, then went still.
In seconds, it was ash.
The stranger's chains faded away, and those star-shaped eyes turned to Abell. Up close, they were even more striking. The pupils glowed from inside, casting a faint golden light on his face. Abell had never seen anything like them.
"Well," the man said, studying Abell with those impossible eyes. "You've got more guts than sense, kid. Taking on two Grade-D's alone? Impressive." He glanced at the dissipating ash of the Malignant. "Stupid to stick around after exhausting your Lux, but impressive."
Abell tried to respond. Tried to ask who he was, what he was, how his eyes—
The world tilted sideways, and darkness swallowed him whole.
Abell woke to voices.
"—should be fine. Nothing broken, just exhausted. The boy pushed himself too hard." That was Mr. Millia, the farmer. "My wife's tending to him now."
"Good." The unfamiliar voice from before, calm and measured. Those star-shaped eyes. "He took a hell of a risk for someone his age."
Abell's eyes cracked open. He was inside the farmhouse, lying on a couch. Mrs. Millia was applying Lumin leaves salve to the shallow cut on his arm while her daughter watched from the doorway, eyes wide.
The stranger from before, the one who'd saved him, leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Those star-shaped pupils caught the light from the window, seeming to glow faintly even in the daylit room.
"You're awake," the stranger observed. "How do you feel?"
"Okay, I guess." Abell managed, his voice rough.
"That's about right." The man pushed off the wall, giving Abell a better look. He looked to be in his early thirties, with sharp features and a relaxed confidence that hinted at real power. And those eyes were impossible to ignore. "I'm Hugo. You're either very brave or very stupid. I haven't decided yet."
Abell's mind struggled to catch up. "You're a Luminary, right?"
"Observant." Hugo's star-shaped pupils seemed to contract slightly, like real stars pulsing. "Which brings me to my question: what was a fifteen-year-old doing standing between a Grade-B Malignant and a family?"
"There was nowhere else to go," Abell said simply.
Hugo studied him for a long moment, those alien eyes unreadable. "No. You could've run away. You chose to stay." He tilted his head. "Why?"
Before Abell could answer, the door burst open.
Keeko stood in the doorway. Relief crashed across her face, followed immediately by fury.
"What," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, "were you thinking?"
Here we go… Abell sighed.