The whispers hadn't stopped.
Even after the crowd had dispersed and the ceremony concluded, rumors spread like wildfire through the village. Some said the Bloody Rock was broken. Others believed Kaen's blood was cursed. And a few… whispered that the boy had no bloodline at all.
Kaen sat quietly on the edge of the training field, the fading sunlight painting the horizon in shades of red and orange. His fists clenched in the dirt.
"Why didn't it work?" he muttered.
Beside him, his childhood friend Riven Kaelthorn — a cocky but sharp-witted prodigy — leaned back, arms behind his head. "Maybe you're too powerful for the rock to read," he teased, smirking.
Kaen didn't laugh.
Far away, Elira Dreadmourne — Kaen's mother — watched silently from a shadowed alley, a troubled expression hidden behind her calm eyes. She had seen something the others hadn't. For a moment, when Kaen touched the Bloody Rock, it didn't just shake... it had bled.
---
Later That Night
Inside a dim room lit by oil lamps, an elder from the Council leaned over old scrolls. "That child…" he muttered. "He shouldn't exist."
Another shadowed figure replied from the corner, his voice low and laced with fear. "The last time the rock failed... was twelve years ago."
The air thickened.
---
Kaen's House – Midnight
Kaen lay awake. The symbols from the ceremony still flickered in his mind. Suddenly, his blood pulsed — unnaturally. His heart raced. His vision blurred.
A strange pain struck his chest.
He sat up, gasping, eyes wide — glowing faintly crimson in the dark.
A voice echoed from deep within his mind, ancient and cold:
> "The seal weakens... The Crimson Vessel begins to stir."
Kaen collapsed back, unconscious.
Outside, a black-hooded figure stood on the rooftop, watching. He pulled out a stone and whispered,
> "The blood awakens. We must act soon... before he remembers who he truly is."
---