The first time you see one, you wish you hadn’t.

  Abell was six when he saw his first.

  The creature crawled from the darkness, its twisted limbs stitched together by glowing fractures. Dark red eyes burned a hole in his heart, but Abell’s fear locked onto the bright magenta orb in its chest, a pulsing wound writhing with hunger. Each step dragged along the forest floor, slow and uneven, as its bare, human-like feet smeared moss and dirt behind it. Its stretched, swine-like skin shimmered under the eerie light,

  Every pulse from the magenta orb in its chest feeding an unnatural thirst.

  Abell froze, too small to run, too scared to scream.

  Genevieve, his big sister, found him alone in the forest, the creature closing in. Without a word, she burst through the brush, her neatly kept blonde hair barely shifted as she stepped in front of Abell.

  She unsheathed her blade, a sleek and radiant falchion protruding with golden energy. She pointed it at the creature, taunting it to move forward.

  The monster let out a roar that sounded throughout the forest. Abell went numb from the sound, but he didn’t scream, didn’t blink.

  The beast lunged fast and low, its claws outstretched, tearing through roots as it closed the distance.

  Genevieve met it head-on.

  Claws swung in her direction, but she blocked with her blade and countered. Her blade swept upward in a smooth arc, catching its arm mid-swing. On impact, her sword's light exploded, sharp and blinding. The creature shrieked, stumbling sideways as one of its limbs hit the ground, severed.

  Abell flinched. The sound and the light were all too intense for him.

  The creature reeled back, legs twitching, with its chest heaving faster.

  Genevieve advanced, her steps steady. Her neatly tied blonde hair fell behind her shoulders, and a simple tunic clung to her. She raised her blade again light pulsing from the hilt and drove it straight into the creature’s magenta core.

  The glow in its chest flared violently, writhing in pain, then dropped.

  “Is it… dead?” Abell asked, inching closer behind Genevieve.

  He stayed hidden, eyes locked on the motionless creature.

  “I always promised I’d protect you, didn’t I, Abell?”

  She knelt beside him, brushing his dark, messy hair with her bloodied fingers.

  Abell trembled, but his eyes wouldn’t leave the corpse. He pushed through the fear.

  “W-what was that?”

  Genevieve shot a glance back at the fallen creature before answering.

  “A malignant.”

  The memory burned as he stared at the broken hilt resting in his palm. That sword, like her, was gone now.

  A gust of wind pulled him back to the present. The farmlands of Iridius stretched before him, golden in the morning sun. His grip tightened on the broken sword.

  “Thinking about her again?”

  Abell turned to see his mother, Keeko, standing behind him with her arms crossed. Her hair fluttered in the breeze.

  “No, it’s nothing,” he said.

  “Hmm, if you say so. Are you ready?” Keeko asked.

  He gave the sword one final squeeze.

  “Always.”

  Training Grounds

  The two walked to the backyard, past the house’s stone walls and into a field of open grass, with a few trees along the edge. It was a lovely, warm morning in Iridius.

  She glanced at Abell with an unusually bright expression—a rare sight.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Today, I’ll only be counterattacking,” Keeko said with a smirk. “Hurry, go and get your wooden sword.”

  “I can’t use my Lux?”

  “Nope.” Her tone turned serious. “I want to see what you can do without it.”

  Abell walked to the side of the cottage and grabbed a wooden sword.

  He glanced at his mother, frowning. “What’s with her today?”

  Abell rolled up his sleeves, moving his messy hair out of his face. He spun the sword in his grip and grinned.

  “Alright, I’m set.”. “Today’s the day I’ll finally land a hit. I feel it.”

  Keeko let out a small chuckle, rolling her wrist as she loosened up. “Confident, huh?”

  She took her stance, one foot planted in the dirt, both hands raised at her sides. Waiting for his move.

  “C’mon, then. Show me.”

  Abell charged her with little hesitation. He swung his sword directly at her midsection.

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  Keeko blocked the swing with her right hand and swung her left palm into his stomach.

  “Stop being predictable.” Keeko’s voice was calm but firm.

  Abell gritted his teeth from the strike. Still can't land a hit on her, huh? he thought.

  Rushing forward, he went back on the offensive, swinging wildly in all directions. However, nothing connected. Keeko countered every strike perfectly.

  “After all these years—I still can’t compete with her.”

  Keeko yawned. “You know, at fifteen, Genevieve was already giving me a hard time,” she said with a small smile, her voice light but distant.“And that was when I was in my prime.”

  The mention of her name hit harder than expected. Memories of that night flashed before his eyes. Abell clenched his jaw, charging again with more precision.

  Abell picked up the pace of his attacks while trying to maintain control. He swung repeatedly with all his strength, but she was faster and anticipated every move.

  But that last swing—too much force and too predictable he overcommitted. Badly.

  Keeko shifted. Her foot swept under him.

  Before he could react, his legs flew out, and he crashed onto his back, his sword clattering to the ground beside him.

  Keeko offered him her hand, but Abell slapped it away.

  “C’mon, don’t be like that,” Keeko chuckled.

  “Seriously, how strong can you be? You’re already an old woman,” Abell said, rubbing his stomach.

  Keeko’s smile faded. She slammed her fist into his chest, knocking him back.

  “Be respectful, Abell.”

  Abell nodded his head apologetically.

  After a moment, Keeko gestured toward the village. “Enough about that. Let’s go to the market. You promised me if I won, you’d accompany me.”

  Abell crossed his arms. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go.”

  The market was busy, thick with the chatter of the townsfolk. Vendors shouted over one another to sell their goods and trinkets, and laughter cut through the air as people walked about.

  As Abell walked behind Keeko through the busy market, the smell of baked bread filled the air. She paused to inspect the row of loaves and chatted with the vendor.

  Abell remained a few steps behind her, looking at the busy market until nearby voices rose above the noise.

  “Malignant attacks are getting worse. When will those damned elites help us?” a woman said.

  “You know the Alsaints are too busy lining their pockets,” another woman scoffed.

  “When's the last time you saw a Luminary stationed here?”

  We’re nothing to them.”

  Her friend sighed. “Do any of the Four Families even care?”

  Abell tilted his head, trying to make sense of the conversation.

  Keeko nudged him, snapping him out of his head. “C’mon, keep up. I finished up at this stall already.”

  As they moved through the crowd, Abell noticed how the villagers greeted Keeko with appreciation, thanking her for her protection. Pride stirred within him. She wasn’t always this well-regarded.

  Abell drifted away from his mother while she continued to shop.

  At the center of the market stood a towering statue of the Liberator, arms crossed, gaze cast toward the horizon. Heroic. Unyielding. Larger-than-life.

  Abell stared up at it, fists clenching at his sides.

  One day, maybe no, I'll reach the same heights you did. I can’t stay here forever; I promised her that.

  “Face me, Abell!”

  The challenge rang out across the market.

  Abell sighed. He didn’t even need to turn to know who it was.

  Misha, the ever-energetic little troublemaker, was perched atop a stall, brandishing a wooden sword like a seasoned warrior.

  “Misha! Get down from there!” a girl’s exasperated voice followed.

  Astrid, his older sister, rushed forward. Her brown hair swayed behind her. “Sorry, Abell. He’s always like this when you’re around.”

  Misha leaped down, landing with a thud. “Fight me!” he grinned, pointing his sword at Abell. “Show me your Lux!”

  Abell barely spared him a glance. “Not now, Misha.”

  But Misha was relentless. With a dramatic battle cry, he charged.

  Abell sidestepped with ease, flicking Misha’s nose mid-swing. The little boy yelped, tumbling backward.

  “No fair!” Misha whined, rubbing his face. “You’re supposed to use your Lux, not just your hand!”

  “It’s not a toy. Besides, you’re not worth the effort.”

  His tone was light, but the laughter from the onlookers made him uneasy. A few people frowned, murmuring among themselves.

  Keeko let out a quiet breath but didn’t interrupt. She just kept walking.

  Astrid quickly grabbed Misha’s arm. “Let’s go find Mom before you cause more trouble,” she said, looking at Abell and nodding for him to follow them.

  Abell exhaled sharply, adjusting his tunic. He didn’t want to go, but would do anything to escape this crowd. The whispers didn’t fade as he walked.

  A few people frowned. Abell sighed and looked away, pretending not to notice.

  The trio found Keeko at a booth with a towering man, his presence commanding despite his casual manner.

  His clothes were sharp, a scar curled under his left eye, and his pupils shimmered like stars. No–they were stars tiny constellations spinning in his pupils.

  “Keeko!” the man greeted, “Still as youthful as ever!”

  She instantly cringed.

  Before he could react, she swung at him.

  The man tilted his head back just enough to dodge, the motion smooth and effortless.

  Keeko’s scowl deepened. “Why are you here, Hugo?”

  "Hugo, never heard of him.” Abell thought.

  “How did you find me?” Keeko muttered.

  Hugo chuckled. “You thought we wouldn’t find you?” He leaned in slightly. “This is one of the safest spots in western Eudora. Someone with power had to be here.”

  His gaze shifted to Abell.

  “So, this is what you’ve been hiding?”

  Before Keeko could speak.

  “HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE !”

  The market froze and tension snapped like a bone.

  Villagers scattered in every direction, knocking over stalls as they ran. Fear rippled through the crowd, spreading like wildfire.

  Abell’s breath quickened. Adrenaline surged. This was it.

  “Is it one of them?” he asked, scanning the crowd.

  His answer came in the form of a wolf-like roar.

  Emerging from the edge of the marketplace, grotesque and unnatural, a group of canine-like Malignants stomped into view. Their hollow eyes burned with primal hunger, and the magenta glow of their orbs pulsed with malicious energy.

  Abell turned to Astrid. “Take Misha and run I’ll catch up.”

  Her eyes widened. She composed herself and pulled Misha away. Misha resisted for only a moment before he gave in to fear.

  As the market emptied, the weight of the Malignants’ presence grew closer.

  Abell watched the group approach until Keeko tapped his shoulder. She met his eyes, then gave a single nod.

  That was all he needed.

  Abell opened his hand. Golden sparks flickered until they twisted into a cluster of light.

  FWOOOM! A sudden flash of light emerged and settled into the form of a straight sword.

  The weapon pulsed in his hand, weightless but dangerous.

  “Finally, some action.” His voice was steady, but his pulse pounded with excitement. “I was starting to get bored.”

  Hugo, still beside Keeko, whistled low. “Interesting…” he murmured, watching the blade with undisguised intrigue.

  Abell moved forward no hesitation, no fear. Just like his big sister once did.