Chapter 1.
The air in the chamber was thick, smelling of old stone and something metallic, like a sword-forge after a long day’s work. Corin stood there, his boots heavy on the uneven floor, feeling that familiar weight on his shoulders. He was a restless hero, the kind of man who couldn't sit still if he knew there was a wrong to be righted, but even his natural optimism was starting to fray at the edges. He thought of May—his May, or so he wished. She was a Killio, one of those powerful women who moved like they owned the very air they breathed. He knew she was feisty, and he’d seen her unhinged power when she was rageful, but he also saw the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't watching. It was a secret she kept close, like a dagger hidden in a boot.
Suddenly, the shadows in the corner of the room didn't just move; they tore open. A woman stepped out, her silhouette sharp against the dim torchlight.
“Huyuog, of Vampiricia, leave Coviv alone!” her voice rang out. It was a voice that hit Corin like a physical punch. It was melodic but sharp, layered with a history he knew in his bones.
“Mother?” Corin whispered, the word feeling small in his throat.
She turned. She looked vaguely familiar, but the warmth he remembered was gone. Instead, she fixed him with a reproachful look, her eyes scanning him with a cold, disappointed edge that made him feel like a child who had failed a basic lesson. Beside her stood a man—tall, imposing, with a cruel set to his jaw.
“Coviv is my blood,” the man sneered, his voice like grinding stones, “and my choice to kill.”
Before Corin could even draw a breath to protest, the man moved. It was a blur of steel and malice. He ended Coviv’s life right there, a gruesome display of violence that left the room echoing with a sickening silence. Rage flared in Corin’s chest—that hot, optimistic fire turning into something darker. He lunged forward, reaching for the Final Power, the energy Aiden had been teaching him to master, but his boots wouldn’t move. It was as if the floor had turned to magnets. He was frozen, a statue in his own nightmare.
Then, just as quickly as he’d been pinned, he reappeared inside a shimmering, cold cage.
“Mom, let me out! It’s me, Corin!” he shouted, his voice cracking. He gripped the bars, but they felt like ice against his palms.
She stepped closer to the cage, her face an unreadable mask. “I am sorry, son. But you are now twenty-five, yes?”
“Well, yes, but that doesn’t matter!” Corin barked back, his heart hammering. “Let me out so I can stop this!”
“Well, son, it does matter,” she said, her voice dropping to a chilling whisper. “I can’t do anything for you. You are going to stay in that cage forever, unless of course my leader lets you out.”
It was then that the logic of the world started to break for Corin. He looked at her—really looked at her. Seven years ago, his mother’s hair had been pitch black, falling in soft waves. Now, she was taller, her movements more predatory, and her hair was a startling, bright blonde. It wasn't just age; it was a total transformation.
He saw her lean toward the blue-skinned man—Neo, the one who could slip through space like water, the one who secretly missed a home he could never return to. She whispered three words that felt like a death sentence: “Dispose of him.”
Neo didn't hesitate. With a flick of his blue hand, the cage vanished. Corin hit the floor hard, the breath leaving his lungs. As he scrambled to his feet, a gust of wind caught his mother’s cloak. Underneath the heavy fabric, something moved—a thick, furry tail.
Corin didn’t think. He didn't use the Final Power or wait for Max, May’s tough-as-nails Warder, to come charging in with a battle-cry. He just ran. He lunged at the woman who claimed to be his mother and ripped the cloak away. The scream that left his throat died when he saw her face. It wasn't a face at all; it was a human mask strapped over the snout of a wolf.
She snarled, a sound that was purely animal, and grabbed him with strength that should have crushed his ribs. She swung him like a sack of grain and threw him toward the dark, swirling pool in the center of the room.
The water was thick, like oil, and freezing cold. As Corin sank, the world turned upside down. It wasn't just drowning; he felt his very molecules shifting. He looked at his hands through the murky depths—they were turning a deep, rugged tan, the skin thickening. His legs stretched, his bones popping and lengthening in a way that should have been agony but just felt wrong. His stomach shifted, his torso growing taller and broader. He was being remade by the magic of the pool.
He broke the surface not in the pool, but falling onto a hard stone floor in a completely different room. He coughed, spitting out the metallic-tasting water, his new, longer limbs feeling clumsy. In the center of the room sat a chair. Someone was tied to it, struggling against thick hemp ropes.
“Mmm! Mmm-mmm!” the figure grunted, head lolling back.
Corin stumbled forward, his tan hands trembling. He reached for the knots, his fingers working quickly. As the hood fell back, he gasped.
“Aiden!”
It was his mentor, the wise man with the "foxy grandpa" vibe who usually had a joke and a bit of wisdom for every occasion. But the man in the chair looked like a ghost of himself.
“Corin,” Aiden wheezed, his voice thin and papery. “Those waters... they were very dangerous. Just look at me!”
Corin stepped back, horrified. Aiden’s clothes, which usually fit his sturdy frame perfectly, now hung off him like a child playing dress-up in an adult’s wardrobe. His body had shrunk. His hands were crinkly, covered in deep calluses that looked ancient, and his skin was so translucent that the bones of his elbows and heels seemed to be trying to push through the surface. He looked pale, worn out, as if the water had sucked the very life-force out of him to fuel Corin’s strange growth.
Aiden reached out a withered hand, his eyes still bright with that old wisdom, but his strength was gone. “We have to move, boy. Before Neo finds us. Before your ‘mother’ finishes what she started.”
Corin looked at his own tan, transformed hands. He felt the world on his shoulders again—heavier than ever—but for the first time, he didn't just want to carry it. He wanted to break it.
