°❀⋆Chapter 1 .ೃ࿔*:
⊹ ₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆₊⋆☁︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆₊ ⊹
The sea was quiet.
Gentle waves rolled onto the pale shore, washing over smooth stones before slipping back into the endless blue. Sunlight shimmered across the water like scattered glass, while a cool breeze carried the scent of salt through the towering trees that surrounded the hidden beach.
It was beautiful.
Peaceful.
Untouched.
At least, that was what anyone standing on the shore would have believed.
Beneath the surface, tangled between jagged rocks where the tide rose and fell, something stirred.
A pale hand gripped the rough stone.
The ropes dug deeper.
Another tug.
Nothing.
The net tightened instead.
A low hiss escaped from the creature hidden beneath the water as strands of long hair drifted around it like dark seaweed. Sunlight reached through the waves, revealing only fragments—a slender arm, the edge of shimmering scales disappearing into the deeper water, and sharp eyes that glowed with quiet anger.
The fishing net held firm.
It had been there for days.
Perhaps longer.
The creature had stopped counting.
Its gaze settled on the coarse ropes wrapped around its tail.
“Humans...”
The word came out like a curse.
“They take everything they touch.”
Another sharp pull.
The ropes scraped against the rocks.
Still nothing.
Its expression darkened.
“They poison rivers.”
“They scar forests.”
“And now they leave their traps in the sea.”
A bitter laugh escaped its lips.
“Pathetic creatures.”
The tide rolled in again, lifting the net for only a heartbeat before dragging it back into the rocks.
Freedom remained just beyond reach.
Silence returned.
Only the waves remained.
Then—
Voices.
Loud.
Far away.
The creature’s head lifted slightly.
Children.
Even from this distance, they were impossible to ignore.
One voice shouted.
Another immediately shouted back.
The argument echoed faintly through the forest before drifting across the water.
The creature closed its eyes.
“...Disgusting.”
Another shout.
“So loud.”
It let out an exhausted sigh and rested its head against the stone.
“Even the forest cannot silence humans.”
The voices grew closer for a moment before fading again.
The creature looked toward the trees bordering the beach, its expression unreadable.
Whatever foolish quarrel the humans had, it wanted no part in it.
It turned away.
The waves continued their endless rhythm.
...
“Look at them!”
The sharp cry cut through the morning air.
The peaceful sound of the sea vanished, replaced by the bustle of a crowded village marketplace.
Merchants called out prices.
Children laughed as they ran between wooden stalls.
The smell of freshly baked bread drifted through the streets.
Right in the middle of it all stood two boys.
Neither seemed willing to stop talking long enough for the other to finish a sentence.
“I told you I didn’t take it!”
“You absolutely did!”
“If I had taken it, I’d still have it!”
“Exactly! So where is it?”
“I don’t know!”
“Convenient answer.”
“It is the truth!”
Around them, villagers sighed.
Not again.
A woman burst from a nearby flower shop, her apron still dusted with soil.
She stopped in front of the boys and pointed toward rows of drooping flowers outside her shop.
“Look!”
The boys blinked.
“My flowers were blooming this morning!” she cried. “Then you two started shouting outside my shop, and now they’re already beginning to wilt!”
The boys stared at the flowers.
“...What?”
“We didn’t touch them,” one protested.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“But we really didn’t!”
The woman folded her arms.
“Every single time you two are nearby, something goes wrong.”
The marketplace grew quieter.
People began watching.
One by one, villagers stepped forward.
“My fishing net tore yesterday,” an old fisherman muttered. “They were arguing on the docks just before it happened.”
“My bread burned in the oven,” said the baker. “They were outside my bakery.”
“My customers stopped coming after they started fighting in front of my stall,” complained the tailor.
“My chickens stopped laying eggs.”
“My roof started leaking.”
“My cart wheel broke.”
“They’re cursed.”
“They’ve always been cursed.”
The whispers spread through the crowd until they were no longer whispers at all.
The two boys stood frozen.
For the first time that morning, neither argued.
Instead...
They looked through the crowd.
Searching.
Looking toward familiar faces.
Their parents.
Surely...
Surely someone would tell them to stop.
Surely someone would laugh and say this had gone too far.
One boy caught his mother’s eye.
She lowered her head.
The other looked toward his father.
His father looked away.
Not a single voice spoke in their defence.
Not one.
The silence lingered.
It was heavy.
Heavier than the shouting had ever been.
The two boys stood shoulder to shoulder without even realising it, their eyes still fixed on the people who were supposed to protect them.
Neither parent moved.
Neither parent spoke.
It hurt far more than the accusations ever could.
The flower shop owner let out a frustrated sigh.
“See?” she said, gesturing towards the crowd. “Everyone knows it. Every time these two are around, something unfortunate happens.”
A murmur swept through the marketplace.
“They’ve always brought trouble.”
“They’ve never done any good.”
“I told you they were cursed the day they were born.”
“My son started having nightmares after playing with them.”
“My cow stopped giving milk.”
“My harvest failed.”
“They’re bad luck.”
The accusations became louder.
One after another.
Some sounded believable.
Others were so absurd that, under different circumstances, they might have made someone laugh.
But no one laughed.
Fear had already made up their minds.
One of the boys clenched his fists.
“We didn’t do any of that.”
His voice shook.
“You have to believe us.”
The other nodded quickly.
“We argue, sure... but we never hurt anyone.”
No one answered.
The crowd simply stared.
Some looked angry.
Others looked frightened.
A few couldn’t even meet the boys’ eyes.
Then, from the back of the crowd, an elderly voice spoke.
“Enough.”
The murmuring stopped instantly.
The villagers stepped aside, creating a path through the marketplace.
An elderly man, supported by a carved wooden staff, slowly walked forward.
His expression was unreadable.
The village elder.
He looked first at the villagers.
Then at the boys.
Finally, at the silent parents standing among the crowd.
“I have listened to every complaint.”
His calm voice carried across the square.
“Whether these children truly bring misfortune...”
He paused.
“...or whether fear has simply convinced us that they do...”
The villagers exchanged uncertain glances.
“It no longer matters.”
The boys stared at him.
“The village has lost its peace.”
Another pause.
“And peace cannot exist while everyone fears what tomorrow may bring.”
One of the boys took a step forward.
“So... what are you saying?”
The elder closed his eyes for a brief moment.
Then he spoke the words neither child was prepared to hear.
“You will leave this village before sunset.”
The world seemed to stop.
“...What?”
The word barely escaped as a whisper.
“You are no longer welcome here.”
The boys looked around desperately.
Someone would object.
Someone had to.
Their parents...
They looked at them once more.
Their mothers cried quietly.
Their fathers stood frozen, fists clenched at their sides.
Yet still...
No one spoke.
No one argued.
No one said,
“They’re just children.”
One boy felt tears sting his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
The other looked down at the ground, biting his lip so hard it almost bled.
“So...”
he whispered,
“...you’re really sending us away?”
The elder lowered his head.
“I am.”
The words were gentle.
The decision was not.
Within the hour, the villagers gathered what little the boys owned.
A worn backpack.
A fishing rod missing one hook.
A blanket with holes along the edges.
A small loaf of bread.
Enough to survive a few days.
Perhaps.
No one knew.
The boys accepted their belongings in silence.
Not because they wanted to.
Because there was nothing left to say.
The enormous wooden gates at the edge of the village slowly creaked open.
Beyond them stretched an old dirt road.
Far beyond that...
A forest.
Its towering trees reached towards the sky like dark fingers.
Everyone knew its name.
Everyone knew its stories.
The forest where people wandered in...
...and were never seen again.
One villager quietly whispered,
“They’ll never survive.”
Another answered,
“Perhaps that’s for the best.”
The boys heard every word.
Without looking back, they walked towards the forest.
The gates closed behind them with a deep, echoingthud.
For the first time in their lives...
They had nowhere left to call home.
⊹ ₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆₊⋆☁︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎ ⋆₊ ⊹
