Darkness isn't always empty.
Sometimes…
It shows you things the light hides.
At first, there was nothing.
No sound.
No feeling.
No sense of time.
Then—
The wind returned.
Not outside.
Not around me.
But within me.
I felt it before I saw anything.
A slow movement… like something long asleep was stretching for the first time.
And then—
Light.
Not blinding.
Not harsh.
Soft.
Endless.
It spread across the darkness like a sky being reborn, revealing something I couldn't fully understand.
Shapes.
Memories.
Fragments.
I saw a woman.
Her back turned to me, her hair moving gently in a wind I couldn't feel.
"Baby…" she called softly.
My chest tightened.
"…Mom?"
She didn't turn.
Instead, the wind around her grew stronger.
And suddenly—
The scene shifted.
A man stood in front of her now.
Tall.
Steady.
His presence felt… familiar.
My father.
"Is it ready?" he asked.
My mother nodded slowly.
"She won't understand it yet," she said. "But she will feel it."
My breath caught.
"Will it protect her?" my father asked.
A pause.
Then my mother placed something in her hands.
Something small.
Something glowing faintly.
The necklace.
"It won't just protect her," she said quietly.
"It will hide her."
My heart pounded.
"From them?" my father asked.
Her voice softened.
But her words didn't.
"From everything."
The wind surged.
The scene broke apart—
And suddenly—
I was somewhere else.
Standing.
Not as I am now.
But… stronger.
I could feel it.
The air responded to me.
The space around me moved with me.
And then—
A voice.
Not outside.
Not around me.
Inside.
"You are not human."
My breath stilled.
"You are a vessel."
The word echoed.
Deep.
Heavy.
"For what?" I whispered.
Silence.
Then—
The answer came.
"For what was never meant to be contained."
Something inside me cracked open.
Not painfully.
Not violently.
But completely.
And in that moment—
I understood one thing.
Not everything.
Not the full truth.
But enough.
Something ancient lived inside me.
Not separate from me.
But part of me.
Something my parents didn't create—
But chose to protect.
The wind rushed through me—
And I woke up.
The first thing I felt was warmth.
Not from the air.
Not from the night.
But from him.
My eyes opened slowly.
The world returned in pieces.
The sky above me—
Dark, stretched wide, filled with quiet stars.
The soft glow of the moon resting over everything.
The faint whisper of wind moving through leaves.
And then—
Him.
I was in his arms.
Lying against him in the garden outside my aunt's house.
His hold was steady.
Careful.
Like I might disappear if he wasn't.
"…You're awake," he said softly.
His voice felt closer now.
Not distant.
Not unfamiliar.
I blinked slowly, trying to gather my thoughts.
My body felt different.
Lighter.
But stronger.
Like something inside me had shifted into place.
"…What happened?" I asked quietly.
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his gaze searched my face.
Like he was looking for something.
"You saw something," he said.
Not a question.
I swallowed slightly.
"…I saw them."
His expression softened.
Just a little.
"And?" he asked gently.
I hesitated.
"…I think… they knew," I whispered.
A pause.
Then he nodded once.
"They did."
Silence settled between us again.
But this time—
It wasn't heavy.
It felt… calm.
I shifted slightly, becoming more aware of how close we were.
How easily I fit against him.
My heart skipped.
"…I never asked you something," I said softly.
He looked down at me.
"What is it?"
I held his gaze.
"…Your name."
For a moment—
He didn't respond-
Like the question mattered more than it should.
Then—
Very quietly—
He said—
"…Cyris."
The name settled between us.
Simple.
Human.
But somehow…
It didn't feel like all of him.
Still—
It felt right.
"Cyris…" I repeated softly.
Something in his expression changed.
Barely noticeable.
But real.
Like hearing his name from me meant something.
The wind moved gently around us.
No longer restless.
No longer searching.
Just… present.
And for the first time since everything began
I didn't feel lost.
I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.
In his arms.
Under the moonlight.
At the beginning of something I couldn't yet name.