For a while, Xenon heard nothing. No rain, no screams… as if the world itself had forgotten how to breathe. A dark light flickered beneath his eyelids, and then a silence as heavy as ash fell upon the room.
Only the hiss of blood dripping onto stone remained. It was as though someone had lit an invisible fuse and then stopped time.
The women standing around the cradle had sunk to their knees, frozen in place. None of them spoke. Some were too afraid to breathe, others too terrified to pray. One of the female guards dropped her sword; the clang of metal against stone rang out like a funeral bell.
How could anyone stay calm in a moment like this?
A baby barely one-year-old had just killed a grown woman in the most grotesque way imaginable.
And the baby was floating in the air, as if guided by the hand of an experienced sorcerer.
And the baby was calm, eerily calm, as though what had just happened was the most natural thing in the world.
Any eye that witnessed this would be doomed to shock.
Xenon's underdeveloped mind couldn't fully grasp what had happened, but he understood in some instinctive way that his enemy had been neutralized. He'd been so focused in that moment that he hadn't even noticed the woman's body bursting apart like an over-inflated balloon, but seeing that she had simply vanished was enough to tell him his action had worked.
His eyes narrowed, cold light gleaming in their depths. He didn't understand what stirred within him; he only knew that his mother's fear pressed against his chest like a weight. Then, the air above the cradle rippled, and something emanated from the baby's small body, disturbing every breath in the room.
Saphirae could only stare at her son, wide-eyed. Should she be shocked that her one-year-old could perform magic unlike anything she'd ever seen? Should she be grateful that he had done it to save her? Or should she be horrified that he had just taken a life?
Her lips trembled, but no words came out because in that instant, language itself had lost meaning. Her motherly instincts urged her to act: to protect and embrace. Yet what stood before her was no longer merely a baby; it was an enigma in baby form.
She wanted to hold him, to shield him… yet the being before her seemed less like something to protect and more like something to revere. Perhaps the gods had blessed her son. Perhaps he was a divine messenger.
After all, what she had just witnessed was nothing short of a miracle, and only those touched by the divine could summon such wonders.
One of the guards, trembling, picked her sword up from the floor. She tensed, as if preparing to strike not a baby but a monster, and lunged forward with all her strength.
For a heartbeat, Xenon's eyes glowed like rifts opening into the heavens. In that mingling of light and shadow, even death seemed almost merciful.
The guard raised her blade, tried to scream, but her voice caught in her throat. The air itself seemed to close in, as though squeezed by an invisible hand.
And then… the air around Xenon's cradle cracked with a sound like shattering crystal.
The woman froze in mid-air. Her sword slipped from her grasp and turned in the air. Before she could comprehend what was happening, it drove itself into her throat.
An unseen force twisted her flesh inside out. Blood erupted from her chest, painting the air in crimson strokes. Then silence.
Saphirae let out a scream, but even her scream broke apart against Xenon's power.
The other women stumbled backward in terror. One person began to pray when an unseen force lifted another person off their feet. They were all seized by fear, the raw, primal kind that precedes all thought.
A third woman fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. "Gods… forgive us…"
And the moment the words left her lips, her head tilted to one side as if someone had pulled the string from within her neck.
In the end, only two breaths remained in the room. Mother and child.
Saphirae clutched her trembling arms to her chest. Some blood on the floor was already steaming, wrapping Xenon's cradle in a veil of mist. But the child was no longer floating. He slowly descended back into the cradle. His tiny fingers grasped the edge, and those enormous eyes met his mother's gaze.
There was no remorse in them. No fear, no mercy. Only… curiosity.
Saphirae sank to her knees. A single tear rolled down her cheek, mingling with the blood on the floor. She reached out to touch his face, but her fingertips met a wall of warmth, a living barrier.
"Xenon…" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What… are you?"
Xenon's lips moved. He was too young to speak, but he wanted to. He wanted to tell his mother that she was safe. So he opened his mouth and tried to form a word.
"Ka–Boo!"
Saphirae blinked, startled, but then a fragile smile crossed her lips. Whether Xenon was an angel or a monster, he was still her son.
So she stood, stepped toward him, and gently took him in her arms. Xenon clung to her instinctively, and in that moment, Saphirae was convinced that the little boy in her arms was still her sweet Xenon.
"I don't know how you did it, but we must leave immediately, my dear."
She stroked his head, then opened a blood-stained wardrobe and pulled out a large hooded cloak. Wrapping herself in it, she tucked the child beneath the fabric. She cast one last glance at the blood-soaked room, then drew her hood up and ran through the door.
Although Xenon couldn't see what was happening, he could feel it: the pounding rhythm of his mother's heartbeat and the urgency in her every step. Their footsteps echoed down the stone corridors, a sharp rhythm that scraped against the walls.
Saphirae was gasping for breath, but she didn't dare stop. With every step she took, she could feel Xenon's heartbeat against her chest, like a tiny storm caged beneath his ribs.
She slipped into a hidden passage and, by some miracle, reached the garden without being seen. She noticed at once that the guards were beginning to raise the alarm.
Desperate, she turned towards another garden.
She ran for minutes without rest until at last she arrived. Whether by skill or sheer luck, no one had seen her. The gardens were vast; her trail had vanished into the shadows. And now she stood before it.
The Monster Garden.
Breathless, Saphirae steadied herself. She pulled back her hood to check on Xenon. The boy gazed up at her calmly, his wide eyes glimmering in the dark. She smiled.
"Don't make a sound, alright, my darling?"
Xenon nodded at once. Saphirae kissed his forehead, tucked him back under the cloak, and took a deep breath. Slowly, she entered from the rear of the garden, crouching low, each step careful and silent.
She moved forward cautiously, but the faint growls in the distance quickened her pulse. Beneath the cloak, she could feel Xenon's breathing quick, steady, alive.
Every step was measured; she avoided the dry leaves scattered between the stones. Mist hung low over the garden, swallowing the moonlight, while the trees twisted like sleeping giants.
A rustle. Saphirae froze. Xenon stirred faintly, then went still again as if he, too, sensed the danger.
She peered ahead: a narrow stone path, thorny black bushes on one side, the rusted bars of a massive cage on the other. Behind the bars, something watched her, its eyes burning faintly in the dark.
A pair… no, two pairs of eyes. Then a third breath. The ground trembled.
Saphirae held her breath. She clenched her teeth to smother the panic hammering in her chest. Every creature in this garden called a "pet" was, in truth, a death machine kept barely at bay by chains.
And some of those chains… now lie broken on the ground.
A metallic scraping rang out. The cage door behind her creaked not from the wind, but from a force within. The shriek of metal tore through the night.
Saphirae pressed Xenon's head to her chest. "Shh… it's alright, sweetheart… just a little farther…" she whispered.
Then—movement in the dark. A shadow leapt from between the trees, as agile as a cat yet as large as a horse. Its skin shimmered with stone-like scales, its breath curling in smoke. A crimson gleam flickered across Saphirae's face.
She held her breath, praying her heart would stop beating for just one moment. She took a step back and snapped a twig underfoot.
*Crack.*
The creature's head whipped toward her. A heartbeat of silence and then a roar that split the night. The ground shook. Birds shrieked and scattered from the trees above.
Saphirae ran with everything she had, clutching Xenon to her chest. The child buried his face in her neck. Wind, blood, soil, and the stench of decay mingled in the air. Behind her, metal bent and tore.
The beast was chasing. Its footsteps pounded like war drums. Saphirae's hood flew off; her hair whipped wildly. Her lungs burned, but she could not stop.
One step more, just one more
Suddenly, the trees opened up. The garden ended. Before her stretched a river, shining like liquid silver beneath the moon.
Saphirae halted, breath ragged. Behind her, the beast stopped at the garden's edge, as though held back by an unseen barrier.
She took a trembling breath. Her knees were weak, her chest ablaze. She drew Xenon close.
"It's over…" she murmured. "We made it… it's over…"
The wind by the river was cold, but it smelled of freedom. Tears of relief and fear streaked down her cheeks.
Until—
A voice spoke behind her. Calm. Deep. Controlled. A man's voice.
"Saphirae, where are you going?"