Chapter One: That Dark Night
On a moonless night, beneath a sky blanketed in ominous clouds, a young man lay tucked in his bed, his three-year-old body wrapped in a blanket of warmth and safety. His face was ordinary, his body couldn't be said either fat or skinny, he looked very healthy but what unique about the young man was his beautiful crimson hair. His parents' whispers filled the small room, comforting and familiar. But the peace was shattered when the night erupted into chaos.
Evel was awakened by the sounds of battle, his tiny heart pounding in his chest. He stumbled out of bed, clutching his blanket, and peered through the window. What he saw would be forever etched into his memory.
The ground was dyed with blood, the river of blood was flowing from every house of the clan. it was not a war but a pure slaughter. His people, his family, all were being slaughtered. Warriors covered in a black robe moved with brutal efficiency, their blades cutting down men, women, and children alike. Blood stained the ground, and the air was thick with the stench of death. Evel despite being braver than the children of his ages was scared, his heart was pounding like insane.
While Evel was wondering what to do, sound of footsteps came out of his room, the sound of footstep become clearer and nearer. Suddenly in that life and death situation, his survival instinct took over his sense of fear and Evel quickly searched for a weapon but in that little time he could only find a wooden dagger. With no other choice he pic up that dagger and stood aside the door so that when the door will open, he could attack that person with surprise. Holding a dagger in his right-hand Evel stood beside the door he tried to calm himself and normalize his breath but no matter how much he tried he couldn't calm himself after all he was only a three years old boy, he was very nervous. Suddenly the footsteps became very fast like they were escaping from someone. The door of his burst open and Evel was about to attack with all of his power but he noticed the familiar faces. They were Evel's parents their faces etched with desperation and fear.
Seeing them Evel's heart finally calm down and he ran to his mother's embrace and started sobbing.
"Evel," his mother whispered urgently, scooping him into her arms. "We have to go. Now."
His father, wielding a bloodied sword, stood guard at the door. "I'll hold them off," he said, his voice resolute. "Take Evel and run. Protect him with your life."
Tears streamed down his mother's face as she nodded, clutching Evel tightly to her chest. "Stay safe," she whispered to her husband, her voice breaking.
With one last look, she turned and fled, carrying Evel through the burning village. The sounds of battle faded, replaced by the pounding of her footsteps and the distant cries of their people. The night was a blur of fear and confusion for Evel, who clung to his mother, his small hands gripping her clothes tightly.
Evel's mother ran with all the strength she could muster, the weight of her son a burden she bore willingly. Her breath came in ragged gasps, each step echoing with the desperation of a mother's love. The forest closed in around them, its shadows offering a semblance of protection from the horrors behind.
After what felt like an eternity, she slowed her pace, glancing over her shoulder to ensure they were not being followed. Believing they had lost their pursuers; she came to a stop under the shelter of a massive tree. Evel whimpered in her arms; his discomfort evident.
She knelt, placing him gently on the ground, her hand brushing his hair with a tenderness born of fear and hope. "Don't worry, Evel," she whispered, forcing a smile. "Father will come soon. We're safe here."
But safety was an illusion shattered in an instant. From the shadows, a dagger flew, piercing her back. Blood spattered across Evel's face, the warm droplets a stark contrast to the cold reality of their situation. She gasped, the pain searing through her body.
Evel screamed, a sound of pure terror and helplessness. His mother, though gravely wounded, was not defeated. The armor she wore had saved her life, but barely. Summoning the last of her strength, she rose, her eyes blazing with an unquenchable fire.
With a fierce cry, she turned on their attacker, her movements a blur of desperation and fury. The enemy, a grim-faced warrior, staggered back as she lunged, her own dagger finding its mark. The force of her attack drove him to the ground, his lifeblood mingling with hers.
She collapsed beside Evel, her breathing shallow and labored. With trembling hands, she reached out to him, her eyes filled with tears. "Be strong, Evel," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Survive. For us. For our clan." She wanted to say more but her body didn't give her the chance. Taking her few last breaths, she said slowly her breath fading away "Sorry Evel your mother is weak".
As her life ebbed away, Evel was left alone in the dark forest, his heart shattered by the loss. He tried his best not to cry but drops of tear fell down from his cheeks. The weight of her sacrifice bore down on him, a burden he would carry for the rest of his life. The night was silent now, save for his sobs and the rustling of the wind through the trees.
In that moment, a resolve was born within him. Being weak is a sin. He will survive, he will grow stronger. And he would avenge his family. The blood of the Devouring Clan flowed through his veins, and with it, the power to reclaim his destiny.