Days passed after that fateful incident. Life in the village seemed to return to normal, routines flowing in the familiar way they always had—until the birth of three children, each with mysterious, colorful eyes. Just as foretold by the god before he was sealed away, the appearance of these colors ignited both fear and curiosity in the hearts of the villagers. If the curse were real, these children were destined to possess unimaginable powers. The infants each bore striking eye colors: one red, one green, and one brown. They were named accordingly: *Akio Tanaka* for the red-eyed child, *Haruto Mori* for the child with green eyes, and *Katsurou Yamamoto* for the brown-eyed child.
The years went by, and the three grew up in much the same way as other children. They played, laughed, and learned, indistinguishable from their peers except for their hauntingly vivid eyes, which drew attention and whispers wherever they went. The village elders, however, were ever vigilant, watching them closely each day. Despite their silent scrutiny, nothing unusual or supernatural ever seemed to happen. The children lived just as other young ones did, free of ominous signs. Yet, a quiet unease lingered among the villagers, an almost invisible fog of tension that hung around whenever the three children were near.
Then came the day that changed everything.
It was a bright, sunlit morning. The air was fresh, and the sky a clear blue as the three children played in the village garden, their laughter floating on the breeze. Villagers went about their work, casting the occasional glance at the playing children. Suddenly, an earsplitting explosion shattered the tranquility, jolting the villagers out of their routines. Startled, they dropped their tools and rushed toward the sound, their hearts pounding as they neared the garden. When they arrived, what they saw left them frozen in horror.
The children were locked in combat, but this was no ordinary squabble between kids. Flames twisted and roared around Akio, tree roots burst forth from the earth, writhing around Katsurou, while fierce whirlwinds circled Haruto. Their eyes shone like gems, glowing with an intense, unearthly light that seemed to pulse in sync with the powers each wielded. The villagers could scarcely believe what lay before them. It was a spectacle that defied words, captivating and terrifying, binding their gazes as though they were witnessing a battle from legends.
One villager, emboldened by a mix of curiosity and bravery, moved closer to get a better view. But in the blink of an eye, he was engulfed by a stray flame and reduced to ashes, his scream cut short. The onlookers recoiled, paralyzed by a fear so complete that none dared move.
Finally, the clash came to a sudden halt. Haruto and Katsurou lay motionless on the ground, their bodies marked with the brutal scars of battle. Only Akio remained standing, visibly shaken, his small frame bearing only minor wounds. He turned to the villagers, confusion and despair etched into his face, and whispered, "Help me…" Yet the villagers, overcome by fear, could only stare, too terrified to step forward.
Only the elders moved, their faces calm and unreadable. They approached Akio, their steps steady, and spoke to him gently, urging him to calm down and reassuring him that he was safe. But Akio's mind raced with questions, questions that bound him like chains: *What have I done? How did I do all this? What am I?*
The elders led Akio to their council house, instructing others to tend to the bodies of the fallen children. And so, from that day, the villagers came to realize the true meaning of the curse. For every child with these colorful eyes would bear not only great powers but also an insatiable bloodlust that would keep them furious and hungry for battle—ultimately leading them to a tragic end. Now, at last, the villagers understood why this fate was known as a curse.
( *To Be Continued* )