Title: Ashes of the Forsaken
Book 1: Rise of the Demonborn
Prologue: The Birth That Shouldn't Have Been
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The village of Therrow had known peace for nearly a century—peace bought in blood, sealed with fear, and whispered in silence. In the heart of that cursed village, beneath a blood moon, a child was born. Not with the cries of new life, but in eerie silence. No scream. No breath. Just… darkness.
His mother, Lady Alira, once the most revered healer in Therrow, lay trembling on the blood-soaked bed. The midwife dropped the child upon seeing his eyes—burning crimson, slit-pupiled, unblinking. His skin was pale, veins darkened like black rivers beneath porcelain. Tiny horns, no longer than a fingernail, peeked through strands of raven hair.
"A demon," someone muttered. The word clung to the walls like mold.
But Lord Harven, the boy's father, didn't kill him. Not out of love—out of fear. Fear that if they slew him, something worse would rise.
They named him *Kael*.
They locked him in the cellar by night and whipped him by day. His siblings were taught to hate him, to see him as a punishment from the gods. Kael never spoke. Not because he couldn't—but because no one deserved his voice.
They used him.He was a punching bag for sword training, a scapegoat when crops failed, a monster to blame when storms came. And still… he remained silent. Waiting.
Until the day the screams started.
Kael was eight when his youngest brother took the training too far and slashed open Kael's side. Blood spilled, but Kael didn't cry. Instead, his eyes flared. Something ancient stirred in him. Heat. Darkness. Power. The sword melted in his brother's hand.
That night, Kael fled.