"Why is this world so dark?"
The question was barely a sound, a dry whisper from Onsa's lips. The perpetual dark circles beneath his eyes spoke of endless, broken sleep.
"Will this darkness last forever?"
The world felt like a constant shadow. He desperately longed for the light.
"I want to feel the sunlight, the warm, golden glow on my skin, like in the old stories.
I need light—any light! I just want to see the sun!" Onsa cried out in pure, agonizing desperation.
"Hey Onsa, wake up, wake up."
The harsh, grating caw ripped through his mind. It was the same solitary raven that always invaded his sleep. "Wake up, Onsa, wake up."
Finally, he woke up, gasping.
It was just the nightmare again, the one he'd had since he was a child. He punched the thin mattress in frustration. "What is wrong with me? Why does that cursed bird always follow me? Did I anger it somehow?"
Should I tell Mom about these dreams? He shook his head. Nah, whatever.
Onsa got up and left his small wooden bedroom. His first thought, as always, was to check for morning. But the night was still hanging, thick and dark.
He and his mother lived alone in a simple wooden house, hidden deep in the forest.
"Hey, Mom! Is dinner ready?" he called out.
His mother, Ledricka, who worked for the royal court, smiled charmingly. "Not yet, dear. Just needs a little more time."
Ledricka was sixty-three, yet she looked barely twenty. Her beauty was startling—white hair and eyebrows, almost like a proud goddess. She carried herself with an almost arrogant pride in her looks.
She looked at him with gentle concern. "If you're so free, maybe you could help your beautiful mother with dinner."
Onsa grinned, happy to play along. "Okay, my beautiful mother, what help do you need?"
"Could you go into the kingdom and buy some vegetables? I'll make your favorite."
A rush of enthusiasm hit him. "Absolutely, my beautiful mother! You look even more radiant when you cook!"
Ledricka chuckled gently. "Go on, Onsa. It's dark outside, so take this torch. But you won't need it in the royal kingdom; they have light there."
She always seemed happy, a stark contrast to their dark, cold world. Onsa loved her gentle, calming nature.
Ledricka handed him the money. Onsa stepped out into the night. She waved cheerfully. "Bye-bye!"
He waved back, smiling brightly. As he walked away, his mother watched him from the doorway. The smile vanished. Her eyes filled with crushing sorrow, and her hands began to tremble. She tried to speak, but the words choked her. Finally, she whispered, brokenly, "I'm sorry, Onsa." Then, she sank to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.
Onsa walked for a while. Everything was black—no stars, no moon, just absolute darkness. Yet, he could see. Everyone in the kingdom had a minor magic to see in the dark, but Onsa was different; he saw with a supernatural clarity that felt sharper than daylight.
"Finally, I reached the kingdom," he sighed, relieved.
Four tall, armored guards stood at the entrance. As Onsa approached, they looked at his eyes, and their stunned expressions immediately turned calculating and hostile. The tallest guard stepped forward.
"Your name," he demanded, his voice flat and heavy.
Onsa froze, a sudden, cold fear gripping him. "M-my name is Onsa," he stammered.
"Your full name?"
"Onsa Vermis," he replied, looking down, his whole body beginning to shake.
The four guards exchanged a quick, knowing look.
"Show me your hand, Onsa Vermis," the tall guard commanded.
Confused, Onsa slowly held out his hand. In a flash, the guard pricked his palm with a tiny silver needle. Before Onsa could react, the guard was smelling the drop of blood.
He spoke, his voice low and final: "That's him."
Onsa was paralyzed with confusion.
The next moment, the guards grabbed his arms and forcefully dragged him inside. He struggled, shouting, "What do you want from me?! Let me go!" The guards, however, possessed immense magical strength.
In a desperate move, he unleashed his shadow magic.
A thick, dark cloud of pure shadow exploded around him, meant to blind and disorient them. But it was useless. The tall guard simply inhaled, and the suffocating darkness was swallowed, leaving the air clear.
As they dragged him toward the castle, he saw it:
the solitary raven from his dream, perched high on the wall, staring right at him. Then, it simply vanished, intensifying Onsa's dread.
He was rushed to the castle. They threw a mask over his face, blinding him, and tightly bound him with ropes that seemed to drain his strength. He was completely helpless.
A loud, thundering voice echoed through the great hall.
"Onsa Vermis, or should I say... Monster Vermis."
The mask was yanked off. Onsa stood, bound and terrified, before the entire court: the King, Queen, the Princess, knights, and generals. The entire kingdom watched him.
He saw disgust and anger, but also confusing looks of sympathy and pain from the crowd. Among them was a young girl, three years younger than him, who watched him with strangely complicated eyes. Onsa, a seventeen-year-old boy with too-dark hair and lifeless eyes, stood shaking.
"What is this?! Why am I tied up?
What did I do? Free me!" Onsa yelled, panic rising in his chest.
The King let out a chilling, cruel laugh. "Free you? Do you think a monster like you deserves freedom?"
"Monster? I am not a monster!"
The Princess screamed at him, her voice filled with venom. "Yes, you are! You carry the Monster's Blood—that's why you are here!"
The terrible truth hit him: the blood incident from earlier. But how did they know? He didn't even know himself.
As Onsa wrestled with the realization,
the King spoke, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"You are a monster, Onsa. And the worst of it? The mother you thought loved you betrayed you."
Onsa froze, the world tilting. "My mother? That's impossible! She wouldn't do this!" he cried, tears blurring his vision.
The King smiled coldly. "Your mother is the one who told us everything about you."
Onsa was shattered.
The words were a physical blow. "How could she?"
he whispered, his body trembling, the pain of betrayal eclipsing his fear.
The King laughed again, cruel and loud. "Your mother is quite the coward, turning over her own innocent son."
He wanted to provoke a reaction, to break Onsa.
But all Onsa felt was the crushing, agonizing realization that the person he loved most had delivered him to his executioners.