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To Stain Existence

章 1: Chapter 1 Rebirth Into The Shadows

The world was dark when Kael Drakhar opened his eyes for the first time. Not just the simple darkness of a night sky or a forgotten cave, but a void—an infinite expanse that consumed everything. He felt weightless, as if floating through emptiness, his mind swirling with fragmented memories. His final moments on Earth were vivid. The pain of betrayal still gnawed at him, a searing wound that refused to heal. He remembered the faces of those who had left him behind, those who had cast him aside.

And then, nothing.

His death had been the end. Or so he had thought. But this—this was something else.

Kael tried to move, but his body felt strange, too small, too fragile. Panic surged through him. What had happened? He struggled to lift his hands, but they were weak, as if they didn't belong to him. His limbs felt foreign, his muscles unfamiliar. Bright light suddenly pierced the darkness, overwhelming his senses. Kael squinted, trying to adjust, but the light was too harsh. For a moment, he felt entirely helpless, his mind sharp but trapped in a body that couldn't respond.

Voices filtered into his ears, muffled at first but slowly becoming clearer. Words spoken in a language he didn't recognize, yet somehow understood. He blinked, forcing his eyes open, and the blurriness began to fade.

A woman stood over him, her face framed by dark hair. Her features were elegant, yet her expression was stern. She stared down at him with an intensity he couldn't fully grasp.

"He has the mark," she said softly, though her tone held an air of command. "The bloodline runs strong in this one."

Kael tried to speak, to ask where he was, but his mouth refused to form the words. His body was too small, too uncoordinated. He couldn't even lift his head properly. What is happening to me? The thought raced through his mind, but his body remained silent, incapable of responding to his will.

Another voice, deep and authoritative, joined hers. "The boy will be strong. There is fire in his eyes already."

A man stepped closer, towering over Kael's small body. His face was sharp, lined with years of experience, his robes dark with crimson accents. Symbols Kael didn't recognize adorned his sleeves. The man's gaze bore into him, as if assessing every inch of his fragile form.

"He will be worthy of our name," the man said, his voice like a decree. "The Drakhar blood runs deep. He will carry our legacy."

Drakhar blood. The name was unfamiliar, yet it resonated with something in Kael. He didn't know what this Drakhar Clan was, but judging by the way they spoke, it was important. Powerful, even.

The woman—his mother, he assumed—lifted him slightly, cradling him in her arms. Her touch was gentle, but there was something fierce in her eyes. "He will grow into his strength," she whispered, though Kael wasn't sure if she was speaking to him or to herself.

Kael's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of his existence. He had been reborn—that much was clear. This wasn't Earth. His memories of his previous life felt distant, yet the emotions were still raw. The betrayal, the pain of his death—they haunted him, lingering just beneath the surface of his thoughts.

But this place, this family... it was powerful. He could feel it. The way they spoke, the way they looked at him—it all pointed to something greater. Something more than the life he had left behind. Yet even with that knowledge, there was no clear path before him. No sense of purpose.

For now, all Kael could do was listen, observe, and wait. His body was too weak, too small, to do anything else.

The days blurred together as Kael slowly became accustomed to his new existence. His infant body was helpless, but his mind remained sharp, always absorbing, always watching. He learned quickly, though his movements were limited, and his voice nonexistent. The voices around him spoke often of the Drakhar Clan, of their power and influence in this strange new world. They spoke of cultivation—of training in ancient techniques that allowed them to manipulate shadow and flame.

But none of it made sense to Kael, not yet. He had never heard of cultivation or shadowflame on Earth. Yet, the more he listened, the more he began to understand. This world operated on different rules, where strength was not merely physical but tied to something deeper—something mystical.

As Kael's body grew stronger, so did his awareness. He could now move his hands, grasp small objects, and observe more keenly the world around him. The estate he found himself in was grand—larger and more ornate than anything he had ever known. The walls were adorned with banners, each bearing the insignia of the Drakhar Clan: two crossed swords wreathed in flame. The family that had taken him in—his new family—was important, that much was clear.

His mother, the woman who had named him, often held him, whispering to him about the future. About the power he would one day wield. His father, the patriarch of the clan, watched him closely, his gaze cold and calculating. It was clear that expectations had been placed on Kael before he could even walk.

But as the days passed, Kael found himself questioning more than ever. What was his place in this world? He had been given a second chance, but to what end? What was he supposed to do with this new life? On Earth, he had sought purpose, but it had been stolen from him. Here, the possibilities were endless, yet directionless.

For now, he focused on growing stronger, watching, listening, and trying to understand the world around him.

One afternoon, as Kael lay in his crib, a shadow fell over him. It was his older brother, Riven Drakhar—the heir to the clan. Riven was a prodigy in the shadowflame arts, already excelling far beyond his peers. He was tall, with dark hair and a piercing gaze, and he carried himself with the confidence of someone who knew his place in the world.

Riven leaned over the crib, studying Kael with an amused expression. "You think you're special, don't you?" he whispered, though there was no one else around to hear him. "You were born with the mark, but that doesn't mean you'll ever surpass me."

Kael stared back at him, his infant body unable to respond. But inside, a fire burned. He didn't know what Riven meant, but the challenge in his voice was clear. This was no simple sibling rivalry—this was a declaration. Riven was the heir, and Kael was an afterthought.

For now.

Kael's mind whirled as Riven left the room, a quiet determination settling over him. He didn't know his purpose yet. He didn't understand the power of shadowflame or the full extent of what this world held for him. But he knew one thing—he would not be content to live in someone else's shadow.

Whatever his goal would become, whatever shape his ambition would take, Kael knew he would find it. And when he did, no one—not Riven, not this world—would be able to stop him