It was a cold winter night, the kind that made the world feel vast, quiet, and unforgiving.
Above, the sky was a giant sea of unbroken clouds, smothering any and every trace of moonlight.
The forest below, vast and dense, lay cloaked in shadows with its towering trees swaying under the weight of the breeze.
Then came the rain.
It wasn't just a gentle drizzle but a sudden, relentless downpour that brought all life to the stillness.
Raindrops struck the leaves in rhythm, their sound mingling with the occasional groan of the trees.
The damp earth releasing its rich aroma while the rainfall spilt into streams, rivers, and lakes, stirring their stagnant and flowing surfaces into rippling mirrors.
It was a beautiful... nature's symphony in motion.
The lakes appeared restless, disturbed by the rain, yet there was an unspoken calm to their rhythm.
That serenity lasted until an intrusion shattered the harmony.
A streak of red.
It started faintly at first, almost imperceptible... a trickle weaving into the transparent, bluish water.
But it grew quickly, spreading like an inkblot, staining the lake with a deep crimson.
The vibrant blue and vivid red clashed, forming a contrast that radiated outwards from one point along the shoreline.
The source was unmistakable.
Blood.
A steady stream of blood poured from the land into the lake, darkened by rainwater yet unmistakably red.
Following its path upstream, the gruesome truth lay ahead.
On the wet and muddied earth, lay a man, no older than twenty-three.
His body was ravaged... horribly and mercilessly mutilated.
All four of his limbs were severed, jagged stumps exposing flesh and bone.
Blood gushed freely from the wounds, pooling beneath him and feeding the crimson stream that led to the lake.
The man's body covered in countless marks of violence. His pale skin was a canvas of cuts, bruises, and burns.
His cerulean eyes, once vivid and alive, were void of light, staring blankly into the stormy sky above.
The golden strands of his hair were covered with mud and streaked with blood, plastered against his face by the rain.
His once-vibrant form lay broken and still, same for the faint, erratic rise and fall of his chest.
He was breathing.
Barely.
Each breath was a struggle, his chest heaving weakly as if the very act of living defied the laws of nature.
His heart struggled to beat, its rhythm uneven and sluggish, as if contemplating whether to stop altogether.
His face remained eerily calm, but the truth of his pain was visible in his trembling lips and the faint twitching of his brow.
His body felt both numb and aflame like a jar filled with water cracked and spilling over.
"Argh..."
The faint groan escaped from his throat... a ghost of sound swallowed by the storm.
'How... how did it come to this?' he wondered, his mind going through storm of its own.
The questions lingered to his thoughts, unanswered, as his body lay motionless under the downpour.
His existence seemed to be destined to have faced its end in that moment, washed away by rain and blood.
'What wrongs had I done... to deserve this?'
***
23 years ago
The first day of spring was a time of renewal in the kingdom of Weltons.
Yet, in the outskirts, far from the grandeur of the capital, the season's beauty was nothing more than a fleeting whisper.
Far from the kingdom's bustling heart, in the outermost slums, the cries of a newborn echoed.
It was a fragile sound, fighting to be heard amidst the cacophony of poverty and despair.
Inside a small, cramped house, a woman lay motionless on the dirt floor.
Her face was pale, her breathing stilled... her life had left her.
Beside her knelt an old woman, her wrinkled hands cradling a newborn boy.
Her back was hunched from age, her hair snow-white, and her face worn with sorrow.
She looked down at the lifeless mother, her lips trembling as tears welled in her eyes.
With a deep, shuddering breath, she stood.
The baby was wrapped tightly in a tattered towel, its cries soft but persistent.
Opening the creaking door, the old woman stepped outside.
The rain had not yet come to the slums. The air was thick and stagnant.
A man stood by the doorway, chewing his nails anxiously, pacing in uneven steps.
His dark hair was unkempt, streaked with strands of white, and his rugged clothes hung loosely on his lean frame.
He looked up, startled as the door opened. His eyes darted to the old woman and then to the bundle in her arms.
"Congratulations, James!" the old woman announced, forcing a smile that didn't reach her weary eyes.
She stepped forward, extending the baby towards him.
"It's a boy. A healthy, strong boy."
James froze. His hands trembled as he reached out to take the child.
His expression shifted from shock to disbelief, then to an overwhelming relief.
"I'm… I'm a father!" he whispered, his voice breaking. His legs nearly gave way as he hugged the baby to his chest.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, but he laughed... a bittersweet, trembling laugh.
"I'm a father!" he exclaimed, repeating the words as if saying them would make them more real.
The old woman watched him with a strained smile, clutching the edge of her shawl tightly.
"Thank you" James murmured, his voice still choked with emotion.
"Thank you, Auntie. Because of you… Salina and my son are safe. Thank you."
The mention of Salina made the old woman's smile falter.
James, oblivious to her change in demeanour, continued speaking, his voice full of unrestrained joy.
"Salina will be so happy. She's always dreamed of being a mother." He cradled the baby closer, whispering to him...
"Your mother will love you so much. Just wait till she sees you."
The old woman couldn't stay silent any longer. Her voice wavered as she spoke.
"James… about Salina…"
His joyous words came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes locking onto hers.
"What… What about Salina?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
"She… She's fine, isn't she? She's… alive?"
The old woman shook her head, her tears falling freely now.
"Salina… couldn't make it. I'm so sorry, James."
For a moment, James didn't react.
He stood frozen, his expression blank as if his mind refused to process her words.
"No…" he muttered, his voice trembling.
"No… No, you're lying. You're lying!"
The baby began to cry in his arms, its wails piercing the air.
"Salina!" James roared, his grief pouring out in a guttural scream.
His trembling hands tightened around the baby, and his tear-streaked face twisted with anguish.
"You…" he whispered, his voice laced with venom as he looked down at the crying child.
His grief turned to rage, and his eyes darkened with killing intent.
"You… You killed her."
---
"Ah… That's right," the young man thought, staring up at the rain-soaked sky as his body bled out.
"That's how my shitty life began. The son who killed his mother… and a father who despised my existence."
*****
{A/N} – Happy New Year!!!! lol :p
Hopefully y'all will like dis book ^-^!!