The ground behind the cottage was hard, unforgiving. Kenji's shovel bit into the earth with a sound like cracking bone. Each thrust was a promise, each heave of soil a piece of his old life buried.
Tears shed , blisters formed and broke on his palms. He didn't stop.
He shouldn't be in hallowed ground. Not after what he did.
The voice came from the tree line. Two men from the village, Korazen and his brother, Holt, stood watching, clubs resting on their shoulders. Their faces were tight with a fear that looked like hatred.
"The village says burn the body," Korazen said, taking a step forward. "Cursed things don't get graves."
Hearing those words come out of their mouths Kenji leaned on the shovel, his breath clouding in the dawn chill. "Touch him," he said, his voice low, "and I'll bury you next to him."
As he spoke,the shadows around his feet seemed to deepen and cling as if drawn to his rage. Korazen's eyes widened; he felt a pressure in his chest, cold and heavy, like a hand squeezing his heart. It wasn't magic he recognized. It was the presence of something other.
They stared at him, at the bloody knife tucked in his belt, at the raw grave. They didn't move. After a long moment, Korazen muttered something and jerked his head. They retreated into the woods, their threats hanging in the silent air.
Kenji turned back to the grave. His father's words echoed in the hollow of his mind: "If I ever fall… don't seek answers. Run."
He placed the carved wooden wolf on the cloak-wrapped chest. Covered it with soil. No prayers. Just a final, silent vow.
The walk to the village was a gauntlet of eyes.
Curtains twitched. Doors cracked shut. A rock flew from behind a rain barrel, grazing his temple. Warm blood trickled down his cheek.
"Murderer!" a child's voice shrilled, then was hushed.
The whispers were no longer whispers. "Like father, like son." "Cursed blood tells." "Should have burned the house with him inside."
Kenji kept walking, the cold stone in his chest hardening with every step. He didn't wipe the blood.
The pawnshop was a dim cave smelling of dust and metal. The old woman behind the counter had milky eyes that saw too much.
Kenji laid his offerings on the scarred wood: his mother's silver comb, its teeth still holding a strand of dark hair; his father's finest carving chisels, handles worn smooth from his grip; the grey wolf pelt, thick and heavy with memory.
The woman touched each item slowly, as if reading a story in them. Then she looked at his face, at the blood on his temple. "You have his eyes," she rasped. "And his curse."
She gave him a handful of copper and two small silver coins, half of what it was worth. "Take it and go east," she said, her voice a dry leaf rustle. "The Kharman Witch trades in truths. She's expecting you."
Kenji's hand froze over the coins. "Expecting me?"
"She always knows," the woman said, turning away, "when a blood debt is about to be paid."
The street outside was blinding after the shop's gloom. Kenji tucked the coins into his pouch and stepped out, right into a collision.
A hooded figure staggered back. For a moment, the hood fell away.
Silver hair. Eyes like liquid gold. A fresh, thin cut marked her cheek. She was a year or two older than him, her face all sharp angles and guarded hunger.
Before a word could pass between them, a shout ripped through the street.
"There! The shadow-spawn!"
Three men charged from the square.Not just tools, a scythe, a hummer, a wood ace held like weapons.Caden led them, his face twisted with zeal.But his eyes locked past Kenji, onto Rina's exposed hair.
"Silver.."he breathed, then his voice rose to a roar. ''The sun tribe ghost! They're together"
The revelation hit the other two men, their fury doubling at the sight of the rumored tribe's last survivor. They fanned out, blocking the road.
Kenji didn't think.The cold stone in his chest exploded.
As Caden raised his scythe, Kenji was already moving.He dropped his pouch amd charged, not with skill, but with a raw, bloodthirsty fury that shocked even himself. He ducked under the wild swing and drove his fist into Caden's gut.The man folded with a whoosh of air, but Kenji wasn't done.His other hand, clenched white, knuckles, snapped upward and caught Caden square on the jaw with a crack that echoed off the stones.
Caden dropped unconscious before he hit the ground.
The other two froze for a split second, stunned by the brutal efficiency It was all the opening Rina needed.
Her hand clamped around Kenji's wrist, her grip shockingly strong. "Idiot! Now!"she snarled, yanking him sideways.
They ran. Not into the open road, but into a narrow alley that stank of rot and wet stone. She pulled him into a recessed doorway, pressing him against the rough wood, her other hand covering his mouth. Her golden eyes blazed in the shadow, inches from his.
"Be still," she breathed. Her voice was low, edged with an accent he didn't know. "They've seen my hair.They know.They're not just villagers."
Outside the alley mouth, boots skidded on cobblestone, shouts rising with panic and rage.
"Caden's down!"
"Find them!The silver haired witch and the demon boy!"
"Check the alley!"
Kenji felt the warmth of the knife at his belt. Felt Rina's heart hammering against his own arm. He also felt the strange,vibrating energy still coursing through his fist, the aftermath of that punch.It felt like his father's shadow had flowed through him for just a second.
The footsteps moved past. The shouting faded into the distance.
Slowly, she lowered her hand from his mouth but didn't let go of his wrist. Her gaze dropped to the knife at his hip. To the twisted sun symbol on the hilt.
Her entire body went rigid.
"Where," she said, her voice now deadly quiet, "did you get that?"
Kenji yanked his arm free. "Why?"
Rina's golden eyes locked onto his, and in them, he saw a reflection of his own fury, his own loss. But hers was older, deeper, fed by a different kind of fire.
"Because that symbol," she whispered, the words slicing the air between them, "is the mark of the Sun Tribe." Her hand drifted to her own belt, where the hilt of a short, curved blade peeked from her cloak. "And the last man who carried one slaughtered my entire family."
Kenji's blood turned to ice.
The truth screamed inside his skull, silent and terrible.
His father was the slaughterer.
This girl was from the tribe he wiped out.
And she didn't know he was the son.