A Mother's Fear
Seraphina clutched her child tighter, watching as the shadows in the cave moved. Not by the wind. Not by the flickering of torchlight.
But by something else.
The darkness slithered toward her son like living tendrils, reaching, yearning. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but she could see it—feel it.
She shivered.
Her son cooed softly, his tiny fingers twitching. His eyes, black streaked with crimson, reflected the flickering torches. He was watching the shadows too.
Ravian was silent, his silver gaze fixed on the child. He did not seem afraid.
Seraphina turned to him, her voice hushed. "Tell me what this means."
Ravian exhaled, setting his dagger aside. "It means his power is already stirring."
"He's just a baby."
Ravian tilted his head slightly. "The abyss does not wait for age. If he is truly the Abyssborn, then his connection to the void will only grow stronger."
Seraphina's grip tightened. "Then we have to stop it."
Ravian's expression darkened. "You still don't understand. You cannot stop what he is. If you suppress it, it will only consume him faster."
Seraphina felt cold. "Then what do I do?"
For the first time, something like hesitation flickered across Ravian's face. "You have to teach him control."
She looked down at her child. "And if I fail?"
Ravian's voice was quiet.
"Then one day, he will be swallowed by his own power… and take the world with him."
---
Abyss-Touched
The hours passed in uneasy silence.
Seraphina tried to push down her fear, tried to steady her breathing. But the events of the past days clawed at her mind—her husband's death, the massacre at the estate, the Inquisition's hunt.
And now, this.
She glanced at her son again.
He had fallen asleep in her arms, his small form rising and falling with soft breaths. Looking at him now, he seemed like any other child.
But she had seen what he could do.
And deep in her heart, she feared what he might become.
Abyssborn.
The name carried weight. It was not just a prophecy—it was a warning.
She brushed a strand of hair from his tiny forehead, whispering, "I will protect you."
The shadows in the cave flickered—almost as if they had heard her.
---
The Hunt Begins
The Inquisition moved swiftly.
Riders in silver-plated armor cut through the night, their torches burning against the darkness. The scent of blood and fire clung to them.
At their head rode High Inquisitor Malagar. His golden eyes gleamed beneath the silver helm, his grip firm on the reins.
Beside him, a scout bowed his head. "We've tracked them to the eastern forests, my lord. The mother and child still live."
Malagar said nothing.
A breeze stirred through the trees, carrying the faint whispers of something unseen. A presence.
Malagar felt it. Something had awakened.
"The Abyssborn…" he murmured.
A knight rode closer. "Shall we burn the forest, my lord?"
Malagar did not answer immediately. He reached into his cloak, pulling out a small, ornate vial. Within it, a swirling golden liquid pulsed faintly. Divine essence.
A sacred weapon against the cursed.
No fire would be needed.
He turned his gaze toward the dark treetops ahead.
The hunt had truly begun.
---
The Abyss Stirs
Seraphina woke suddenly.
She had not meant to sleep. But exhaustion had overtaken her, dragging her into restless dreams.
And yet… something was wrong.
The cave was too quiet.
She looked down—her son was still in her arms, breathing softly. But the torches had dimmed, their flames flickering as if struggling against an unseen force.
She turned her head—and froze.
At the entrance of the cave, the shadows were moving.
Not just shifting with the firelight.
They were crawling.
Seraphina's breath hitched. The darkness was alive.
Then—it spoke.
A whisper, like a breath against her ear.
"He is mine."
Seraphina's heart pounded.
The shadows deepened, coiling, twisting into something almost human in shape—except for the hollow, empty void where a face should be.
Abyssal energy crackled in the air, heavy and suffocating.
Seraphina's instincts screamed.
She scrambled backward, clutching her child. "Stay away!"
The entity did not move, but its presence pushed against her, an oppressive force pressing against her mind.
"You cannot run."
Her son stirred in her arms.
The shadows lurched forward.
Seraphina barely had time to react before a blade sliced through the air.
Ravian.
He moved with inhuman speed, his dagger glowing with silver runes as it slashed through the entity.
The abyssal figure shrieked. Not with sound—but with something deeper, something that rattled inside the soul.
The shadows recoiled, twisting violently before vanishing into the darkness of the cave.
Silence followed.
Seraphina gasped, her hands trembling. "What… what was that?"
Ravian wiped his blade clean. His face was grim.
"A fragment of the Abyss," he said. "And it has already begun calling to him."
Seraphina looked down at her son.
His eyes were open now—watching, unblinking.
And for the first time…
She wasn't sure if he was afraid.
---
End of Chapter 5
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