THE PURGE BEGINS
This chaos was never planned. They were supposed to remain hidden.
In a single, devastating moment, the protective wards that had shielded their community from detection crumbled.
Their hunters moved like predators in the night, patient and relentless.
For centuries, the last remnants of their race had lived hidden among the human world, finding sanctuary among those they once considered beneath them.
For generations, they had perfected the art of invisibility until betrayal shattered everything.
A battalion of acolytes stormed their hidden sanctuary.
Fate's cruelty knew no bounds; it was also the day Aria went into labor.
She had felt her water break, the familiar pain announcing her child's imminent arrival.
She had been rushed to one of their makeshift infirmaries. Two midwives with shaking hands prepared supplies as the screams began filtering from above.
The cellar door burst open.
Caelan stumbled through, his face a mask of anguish. Blood streaked his armor.
The outer wards are breaking, he said, dropping to his knees beside her. His hand found hers, squeezed with desperate strength. But we're holding. You have time.
Another contraction tore through her, and Aria screamed.
I have to go back, Caelan whispered against her forehead, his voice breaking. I have to help hold the gate. Give you time to
No. Her fingers dug into his arm. Don't leave me. Please don't
I'll be back. He pressed his lips to her temple. I swear I'll be back. I swear it.
Then he was gone, the door slamming behind him, and Aria was alone with her pain and the sounds of her world ending above.
She lost track of everything except the agony that consumed her body. The midwives spoke in urgent tones.
Push, one midwife urged. My lady, you must push.
Aria pushed. Screaming.
Once more, the midwife said. Once more and
The baby's cry pierced through everything else. A wail of life in a place of death.
It's a girl. The midwife placed the tiny, blood-covered infant on Aria's chest.
Aria stared down at the perfect little face. The baby's eyes opened, dark and ancient, holding depths that no newborn should possess.
And on her shoulder, a birthmark. Silver-edged and glowing faintly, pulsing with each tiny heartbeat like a second heart made of light.
Isn't she beautiful? Aria whispered through her exhaustion, tears streaming down her face. For one perfect moment, the violence outside seemed to fade, replaced by wonder at this miracle of new life.
The cellar door crashed open.
Caelan stumbled through, and Aria's relief died instantly.
His armor was cracked, His left arm hung useless at his side, the shoulder clearly dislocated.
Caelan, Aria's voice broke.
The outer defenses... fallen. He gripped her hand with his remaining strength. But we're holding them. At the main gate. You have... time.
He looked at their daughter, and joy and grief broke across his face. His good hand reached out to touch the baby's cheek.
What should we name her?" Aria whispered.
Bellona. The name came on a breath. The war goddess. Fitting... for a child born in battle.
His grip loosened. The light faded from his eyes.
Caelan? Aria's voice rose, desperate. Caelan, no. No, stay with me.
But he was already gone, his final breath spent on their daughter's name.
Tears streamed down Aria's face. She clutched her daughter to her chest, rocking them both as she sobbed.
Through her grief, a different name formed on her lips.
Kira, she whispered to her daughter. Simple. Ordinary and Human.
The baby's ancient eyes fixed on her face, and for one terrible moment, Aria thought she saw understanding there. As if her daughter knew.
Her child's birthmark suddenly flared brighter.
Two soldiers burst through the door, faces streaked with blood, urgency sharp in their voices. My lady, the inner courtyard has been breached! We must
Kira's eyes snapped fully open.
The birthmark blazed silver, bright as moonlight.
A pulse erupted from the infant's tiny body. Every torch in the cellar extinguished at once. The soldiers staggered backward, hands clutching at their chests. One collapsed to his knees.
Aria's breath misted in the sudden cold.
From above, the sounds of battle stopped.
In the darkness, Kira's birthmark was the only light, pulsing gently against her shoulder.
Then the baby closed her eyes, and everything returned to normal. The air warmed. The torches flickered back to life, one by one.
One midwife backed toward the stairs, her face white. What... what is she?
The silence above was shattered. They'd felt it. Every supernatural creature within miles had felt that pulse of power.
The standing soldier grabbed Aria's arm, hauling her to her feet. My lady, they know, we have to move. Now.
Aria's legs trembled, threatening to give out with each step. Blood soaked through the cloth between her thighs. She'd lost too much.
But she clutched Kira to her chest and forced herself to move.
The soldier half-carried her through a hidden passage behind the infirmary shelf. Kira whimpered, and Aria pressed her daughter's face into her shoulder to muffle any sound.
Behind them, the crash of the cellar door being torn from its hinges. Shouts. Orders barked in languages older than human memory.
Faster, the soldier urged, though his own breath came ragged.
The tunnel opened into forest darkness
Aria's legs gave out.
She caught herself against a tree. Blood ran down her legs in rivulets now. Each breath came harder than the last.
My lady
An arrow took the soldier through the throat.
He made a sound and fell forward, hitting the ground with a soft thud. His eyes stared at nothing.
Aria ran.
She didn't know how. Her body moved on pure instinct. Trees blurred past. Branches tore at her clothes, her skin, her hair. Kira's weight in her arms was the only real thing, the only thing that mattered.
Behind her, howls echoed through the forest. Multiple voices herding her like prey.
She could hear them crashing through the underbrush. They had her scent.
Aria's foot caught on a root.
She went down hard, twisting at the last second to take the impact on her shoulder rather than crushing Kira. Pain exploded through her ribs. The air left her lungs in a rush.
For a moment, she couldn't move. Holding her daughter, listening to the sounds of pursuit growing closer.
Howls.
Get up. Get up. GET UP.
She forced herself to her hands and knees. Then to her feet, swaying. Her vision tunneled, darkness creeping in at the edges.
Through the trees ahead, she saw it.
Stone. Rising from the forest floor like a prayer.
A cathedral.
Aria stumbled toward it, each step slower than the last. Her hands shook uncontrollably.
The front doors hung crooked on rusted hinges, wood rotted through in places. She pushed through.
At the far end, a smaller door. Half-hidden behind debris.
Aria pushed through it.
Her legs finally gave out. She sank to her knees on the stone steps outside the orphanage door, every part of her body screaming. Blood pooled beneath her. Her arms shook with the effort of holding Kira.
The baby stirred. She'll never be ordinary, Aria thought, staring down at her daughter's face. Never be safe. Not with me.
The howls echoed through the cathedral behind her, bouncing off stone walls, growing louder. Minutes away. Maybe less.
They'd follow her scent.
But Kira... Kira's magic was new. Barely formed. If Aria left her here, separated from her, the hunters might pass right by.
Aria looked down at her daughter's perfect face and felt something inside her shatter.
Her hands trembled as she unwrapped Kira from her bloodstained shawl.
Forgive me, Aria whispered, her voice breaking. Forgive me, my darling girl.
She pressed her lips to Kira's forehead.
Live the life I never could. The words came on sobs now. Be ordinary and safe.
She laid Kira on the stone step, hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped her. Tucked the shawl around her small body, making sure she was covered, protected from the cold. The baby didn't cry.
The howls were in the cathedral now. She could hear them moving through the main chamber.
Aria forced herself to turn. To run. Every instinct screamed at her to go back. To run back. To die with her daughter rather than leave her alone in this horrible place.
But she forced herself forward. Drew the hunters away. Led them deeper into the forest with her blood trail blazing like a beacon.
Behind her, on those cold stone steps, Kira lay silent under the stars.
The birthmark on her shoulder pulsed gently, a steady rhythm like a heartbeat.
Waiting for someone. Anyone
Aria ran until her body gave out completely. She collapsed in a ravine half a mile from the cathedral, hidden by undergrowth and darkness.
She heard the hunters pass overhead, listened to their footsteps thunder past, and heard them pause at the cathedral.
Please, she prayed. Please don't find her. Please.
Voices echoed through the trees. They were searching the ruins, tearing through the remains.
Then the voices moved on, following her trail.
Aria closed her eyes as darkness crept in at the edges of her vision.
Her last thought before the darkness claimed her:
Let her be found by someone kind.
When the hunters finally found Aria's body at dawn, it was already cold. Her eyes were still open, staring at nothing, one hand outstretched as if reaching for something just out of grasp.
The child? one asked.
Dead, probably. The commander kicked Aria's body, contempt clear in the gesture. Stillborn or killed in the attack. It doesn't matter. The bloodline ends here.