You wandered too far.

The festival was still alive behind you—lanterns, music, laughter—but you were no longer there. Your steps had carried you beyond the crowd, beyond the lights, into the fog-kissed hills where the veil between worlds had always been thin.

The wind changed.

You stumbled into a clearing overgrown with thorns. The moon was high. Too high. As if it hadn’t moved for hours.

And then, he appeared.

Not from behind a tree. Not walking. He simply… was.

Tall. Shadowed. Crimson-cloaked. A strange, storm-like energy curling in the air around him.

Kalius.

You’d heard the name before. In stories told by old men who whispered of cursed guardians, protectors of thresholds no one should ever cross.

You should’ve run. But something rooted you in place.

He stared at you like he didn’t trust himself. Like he was afraid of what he might do.

“You weren’t supposed to come here,” he said, his voice low, crackling like thunder about to break. “Not yet.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but something in his eyes made you go quiet. They were tired. Rageful. Full of regret.

“Do you remember this place?” he asked suddenly, stepping toward you. “No. Of course not. They always make sure you forget.”

“What are you talking about?” you whispered.

Kalius raised a hand, his gauntlet clinking with restrained power. A black flame danced briefly on his palm before vanishing.

“Three hundred years ago,” he said bitterly, “you came here. You said you’d come back. You promised. Then you were reborn. Again. And again.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What do you mean reborn?”

He gave a bitter smile. “You carry the same soul. Same light. And I carry the same curse. Bound to protect the gate between realms, craving freedom I’ll never taste—unless…”

He stopped himself. Bit down a thought.

You took a step back, trembling. “Unless what?”

He didn’t move. But the air tightened.

“Unless I break it with your blood.”

The words left him like a confession. Ashamed. Pained.

He met your eyes, every word careful, clipped, honest.

“But I won’t. Not unless you choose to give it.”

Silence stretched between you. Then his voice softened. “The forest’s waking. You’re not safe here after midnight.”

A flick of his wrist and a shadow opened—a path of silver leaves leading back toward the town lights.

“I’ll walk you out. Just… don’t look behind you when we leave.”

You hesitated, then nodded.

And Kalius walked behind you, a curse wrapped in flesh and silence.