Long before the fall of kings and the rise of monsters, there was a prophecy.
It was not written in books nor carved into stone. It was spoken in whispers, passed from one dying voice to another, carried across generations by those who feared its meaning.
It spoke of a child not meant to exist.
A child born between forces that were never meant to mix.
It said that on a night when the sky burned red and death walked freely, the child would die.
And in dying, he would become something greater.
Something that would hunt the hunters.
Something that would bring an end to the old order.
For many years, it was dismissed as nothing more than a dying dream.
Until the night it began to come true.
Far from castles and great cities, at the edge of the Kingdom of Ravenshire, lay a small village known as Ashvale.
It was a quiet place, surrounded by vast forests that stretched farther than any villager had ever traveled. The trees stood tall and ancient, their shadows covering the land like silent guardians.
The people of Ashvale lived simple lives. Hunters, healers, farmers. They woke with the sun and slept when darkness came.
And on that morning, everything seemed normal.
Kelvin Sylas Blake stood outside his home, staring toward the forest.
The morning air was cool, and the scent of pine filled his lungs. His silver eyes moved carefully across the treeline, alert, observant.
He was seventeen, not yet a man, but no longer a child.
His body was lean and strong, built from years of training under his father. His black hair fell past his shoulders, slightly messy from sleep.
He looked calm.
But inside, his mind was always moving.
Always watching.
Always thinking.
Behind him, the wooden door opened.
"You are staring at the forest again."
Kelvin turned.
His father, Sagax Blake, stepped outside.
Sagax was a large man, tall and broad, his body marked with old scars earned through years of hunting. His dark beard was streaked with gray, and his eyes were sharp and experienced.
He carried himself like a man who had faced death many times and survived.
Kelvin gave a small smile.
"I thought I heard something last night."
Sagax studied him for a moment, then walked closer, his boots pressing into the dirt.
"The forest always makes noise," Sagax said. "The question is whether you understand what the noise means."
Kelvin nodded slowly.
He wanted to understand.
He wanted to be strong.
Stronger than he was now.
From inside the house, a gentle voice called out.
"Both of you, come inside before the food grows cold."
Kelvin's expression softened immediately.
His mother.
Nyx Valeria Corvin stood in the doorway. Her long dark hair rested over her shoulders, and her calm eyes carried a quiet warmth that always made Kelvin feel safe.
She was not a hunter like Sagax. Her hands healed instead of killed.
But there was something about her. Something deeper. Something she never spoke about.
Kelvin had always felt it.
Sagax stepped inside first.
Kelvin followed, but as he crossed the doorway, he paused.
He turned back toward the forest.
For a moment, everything was silent.
No birds.
No wind.
Nothing.
A strange feeling crept into his chest.
It was faint.
But it was there.
Like something was watching him.
Kelvin frowned slightly, then stepped inside and closed the door.
He did not know it yet.
But that morning would be the last normal day of his life.
Far beyond the borders of Ashvale, deep within the shadows of the world, something had already begun to move.
And it was coming for him.