The first thing Daniel felt was pain.
Not sharp — dull, heavy, everywhere. Like his bones had been replaced with iron and left to rust in his skin.
The second thing he felt was… warmth.
A hand holding his.
Soft. Cool. Trembling slightly.
Leah.
He opened his eyes slowly. The world came in fragments — candlelight, wooden ceiling, scent of herbs and smoke. His vision fuzzed, then sharpened on her face leaning over his.
Her eyes were red from crying.
But she was smiling in relief the moment he looked at her.
"You're awake," she whispered.
Her voice sounded like someone who'd been praying without sound.
Daniel swallowed, throat sand-dry. "Did I… make it back?"
Leah gave a tiny breathy laugh. "Barely."
He tried to sit up. A wave of white-hot pain slammed him down.
"Easy." Leah pressed his shoulder gently. "You almost shattered your body."
He blinked at her. "But I don't… I feel like I fought a mountain."
"You kind of did," another voice muttered.
Xavier leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, trying to look casual — but tail tip flicking nervously behind him gave him away. His eyes still carried faint dragon-slits.
"You tackled a soul-wolf barehanded," he said. "And lived. Humans don't do that."
Daniel winced. "I didn't tackle it. I panicked and threw myself at a nightmare. There's a difference."
Xavier shrugged. "Effective difference."
Leah's hand squeezed Daniel's unconsciously. "That light… from your mark… I've never seen anything like it."
Daniel looked away.
"I haven't either."
For a moment, silence hung — thick, uneasy. Outside, night wind brushed against glass, whispering like restless spirits.
Then the door creaked.
Aunt Maren entered.
Staff in hand. Shadows following like obedient pets.
Her face… wasn't calm.
It was scared.
Not scared for herself.
Scared for him.
"So." Her voice was low, steady, but tired. "It has begun."
Daniel forced himself upright again. "What has begun?"
Maren's eyes softened, pained. "Your destiny, child. And the hunt."
Leah straightened, fear flickering again. "Those things last night — they weren't demons, right? They were something worse."
Maren hesitated.
And that hesitation was answer enough.
Daniel clenched the blanket. "Tell us the truth. What am I?"
"You are chosen," Maren whispered. "But chosen does not mean blessed. Sometimes it means burdened. Marked. Hunted."
Daniel felt the weight of every word settle in his bones.
Chosen.
Burden.
Hunted.
Xavier stepped forward. "If you know, then stop dancing around it. Say it."
Maren looked at the three of them — Daniel bruised and shaking, Leah pale with worry, Xavier coiled like a protective wolf-dragon.
She closed her eyes.
"You are tied to the Gates of Obscura. To the balance of creation itself. You awakened too early, and now shadows will smell you everywhere you go."
Daniel's heart froze.
"So everything after me now?"
"Yes," Maren said softly. "Until the end."
Leah covered her mouth, tears threatening again.
Xavier cursed under his breath. "We'll protect him."
Maren's gaze hardened. "You can't protect him. Even I can't shield him forever."
Then she said the line that made Daniel's stomach drop:
"He must learn to kill — or he will be killed."
Leah flinched. Daniel stared at his bandaged arm — at faint silver threads glowing under flesh. A warmth hummed in his chest, ancient and terrifying.
"And if I don't want this?" he whispered.
Maren walked to him and placed a hand on his cheek, eyes filled with sorrow.
"Child… destiny does not care what we want."
Daniel felt the universe pressing on him again — that same ancient heartbeat, echoing quietly in his veins.
Boom.
A star behind his ribs.
Leah suddenly leaned forward, voice fierce despite shaking hands.
"He's not alone. He won't face this alone."
Xavier smirked faintly. "You'd have to kill me to separate us. And I bite."
Daniel managed a weak smile. "He does bite."
Maren sighed — but a tiny, proud sadness crossed her face.
"You'll all need strength soon. More than you can imagine."
Outside, a wolf-thing howled again in the distance — but this one sounded… bigger. Older. Listening.
Maren's expression turned grim. "Rest tonight. At dawn, we leave the village."
Leah's breath caught. "Leave? But—"
"No arguments." Maren's tone cut like winter steel. "They will come again. And next time… more than two."
Daniel's fingers curled around the blanket, knuckles white.
He didn't ask "why me."
He wanted to — but something inside already knew.
He was chosen.
Whether he wanted or not.
Leah brushed his hair from his forehead gently. "You're trembling."
"I'm trying not to be scared," Daniel whispered.
Leah's voice was soft. "I am too."
Xavier exhaled, sharp. "Well, if fate wants him, it's gonna have to fight me too."
A silence settled — sacred and fragile.
Friendship. Fear. Destiny.
Daniel looked at their faces — Leah's trembling courage, Xavier's blazing loyalty, Maren's haunted duty.
And he realized:
This wasn't just his fate.
It was all of theirs now.
He whispered so quietly only Leah heard:
"…what if I'm a danger to you?"
Leah didn't flinch. She squeezed his hand tighter.
"Then that means God gave you to us to stand with you. Not run from you."
Daniel swallowed hard.
He wasn't strong yet.
But maybe — just maybe — he wouldn't crumble.
Not with them beside him.
Outside, the wind shifted. Trees bent like bowing to something unseen.
And far, far away — in a place made of shadows and hunger —
a pair of eyes opened.
And smiled.