The child did not cry.
He could hear the wind whispering through the tall grasses, the distant howls of wolves in the valley below, and the slow, deliberate footsteps of the one who had left him here. His small hands clenched against the rough dirt, trembling not from fear, but from the cold seeping into his bones.
The moon above was a deep, unnatural crimson, casting eerie shadows across the barren cliffs. Raiyo Shingen had never seen its color—he had never seen anything—but he could feel the weight of its presence, the way the night pressed down upon his skin like an unspoken curse.
His father's voice had been the last sound before silence took hold.
"You should have never been born."
Then the footsteps had faded, and the world had swallowed him whole.
He had always known he was different.
From the moment he was born, the whispers had followed.
"A blind son of the House of Kael?"
"He will bring ruin upon us."
"A cursed child, marked by fate itself."
His father, Lord Kael Shingen, had been a man of strict discipline, a master of the blade whose skill was said to rival the ancient swordmasters of Vexis. Yet, despite all his power, he could not bear the weight of a son who would never see the path of the sword, never wield a blade with purpose.
And so, on the night of his seventh year, his fate was decided.
They had taken him beyond the reach of the city, past the forests and rivers, to a place where even the wind seemed to hesitate.
"You will not survive the night,"
his father had said.
Then he had walked away.
And now, there was nothing but silence.
How long had it been? An hour? Two? His body ached, but still, he did not move. He listened, waiting, though he did not know what for.
Then, something changed.
The wind stopped.
The distant howls of wolves vanished. The rustling of the trees ceased. It was as if the entire world had held its breath.
And in that suffocating silence, he felt it—a presence.
It did not walk. It did not breathe. Yet he knew it was there, watching him.
A deep, slow voice rumbled through the air like the echo of something ancient and forgotten.
"You do not fear death."
The boy did not answer. He was too weak to speak, but even if he could, he did not know what to say.
"Good."
The voice shifted, moving closer. A low, almost imperceptible hum filled the space around him. The air grew heavier, pressing against his chest, his throat. He gasped, struggling for breath, but the presence did not relent.
"You are empty,"
the voice murmured.
"A void where sight should be. A vessel waiting to be filled."
A cold hand, neither flesh nor bone, brushed against his forehead.
"And so, I will fill it."
Then, everything changed.
A thousand needles buried themselves in his skull, burning like molten fire. He gasped, arching his back, his body flooded with sensations he had never known.
For the first time in his life, he saw.
Not with eyes—his blindness remained—but with something else.
The world unfolded before him in layers beyond human comprehension. He could feel the shape of the rocks beneath him, the cold breath of the wind before it touched his skin, the distant movement of creatures hidden within the forest.
He could sense the weight of the sky, the trembling of the earth beneath his fingertips.
And he could see the one who stood before him.
A figure cloaked in shifting shadows, its form neither human nor demon. Its face was obscured, but its presence was undeniable—a being beyond mortality.
"What… are you?"
the boy whispered, his voice barely a breath.
"A whisper of fate,"
the being replied.
"A blade yet to be forged."
It knelt before him, its form rippling like smoke.
"Your fate was decided before you were born. But now, you stand at a crossroads. You can die here, forgotten… or you can become something more."
Raiyo's fingers curled against the dirt. He did not want to die.
"I will not save you,"
the figure continued.
"But I will teach you how to survive."
Then, from within the shadows, it pulled forth a blade.
A katana, its edge gleaming with an unnatural darkness.
"Take it."
Raiyo hesitated.
"But I cannot see."
The figure chuckled, the sound like distant thunder.
"You do not need eyes to wield fate."
Raiyo reached out—and as his fingers closed around the hilt, something within him awakened.
The moment he touched the sword, the world shattered.
A flood of knowledge poured into him—not in words, but in instinct. He could feel the pulse of the blade, the silent hum of its existence.
He could sense the air shifting before movement, the breath of an enemy before they struck.
And deep within his mind, something whispered.
"This is only the beginning."
The figure stood, watching him.
"Your path will not be easy. But if you survive… you may yet become what you were meant to be."
Then, it began to fade, its form dissolving into the night.
"Seek the Unseen Blade. Learn the ways of the void. Only then will you understand why you were abandoned."
And with those final words, the presence was gone.
The boy remained on the ground, his body trembling.
For the first time, he was alone.But he was not weak.He rose, the katana gripped tightly in his hands.He could not see the path ahead—but now, for the first time, he did not need to.Because fate itself was waiting.And he would carve his own destiny.