The warm glow of Kallisto’s lantern bathed her home in a golden light, illuminating shelves overflowing with jars of herbs, powders, and tools of her trade. The air was filled with the scent of dried lavender and sage, a comforting contrast to the cold dread Bion had carried since finding the infant.


    Kallisto stood in the doorway, her sharp eyes softening as she took in the sight of her old friend. Though older by five years, her presence carried the wisdom and steadiness of a much greater age.


    “Bion,” she greeted warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “It’s been too long. You’ve grown taller, but you still carry the weight of the world in those eyes.”


    Bion offered a faint smile as he stepped inside, cradling the infant close. “It seems my burdens have grown along with me,” he replied, his voice tinged with both humor and gravity.


    Kallisto’s gaze fell to the bundle in his arms, and her expression shifted to one of quiet awe. “And what treasure have you brought me this time?”


    Bion carefully unwrapped the babe, his movements tender, revealing the child’s impossibly fair skin and snowy white hair. The infant stirred, his dark, endless eyes meeting Kallisto’s.


    Kallisto gasped softly. “By the gods,” she whispered. “He’s unlike any other child I’ve seen.”


    The babe began to cry, his wails filling the room with an urgency that tugged at their hearts. Kallisto reached out, gently taking the infant from Bion’s arms. She rocked him carefully, her practiced hands offering comfort, but the cries only grew louder, more desperate.


    Bion’s brow furrowed, and he stepped forward. “Let me,” he said, extending his arms.


    As soon as the child was back in Bion’s hold, the crying stopped. The babe snuggled into Bion’s chest, his tiny fingers clutching the fabric of Bion’s robes. Kallisto tilted her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips.


    “It seems he has already chosen you,” she remarked, her voice soft but amused.


    Bion’s lips twitched in a faint smile, though his thoughts were far from light. “Chosen me, or bound to me by fate,” he murmured.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Kallisto waved a hand. “Fate often works in mysterious ways, my dear Bion. But for now, this little one needs care. I will find a mother in the village who can nurse him.”


    True to her word, Kallisto returned minutes later with a young woman, her dark hair tied back in a braid and her arms outstretched to take the infant. Bion hesitated but ultimately placed the child into her care, his eyes following her every movement.


    While the woman began to nurse the infant in a nearby room, Bion and Kallisto turned their attention to the work at hand. They carefully selected herbs and minerals from her shelves, crushing and mixing them into a salve meant to counteract the effects of demonic energy.


    As they worked, the silence was suddenly broken by a piercing scream from the other room. Both Bion and Kallisto froze for a heartbeat before rushing toward the sound.


    The sight that greeted them stole their breath. The young woman sat trembling, her hand pressed against her neck where small, bloodied fang marks were visible. The infant, his dark eyes glinting with an unnatural hunger, was latched onto her arm, drawing blood as if it were sustenance.


    “Stop!” Bion’s voice was firm, commanding. He swept forward, gently but swiftly prying the babe away. The child whimpered but did not cry, his lips red with blood.


    Kallisto knelt beside the woman, tending to the small wounds with practiced hands. “The bite is shallow,” she assured, though her voice carried an edge of unease.


    Bion held the child at arm’s length, staring at him in disbelief. The infant, now calm, looked up at him with a disarming smile. Tiny hands reached out toward Bion’s long, wavy hair, tugging playfully at a strand.


    Bion’s chest tightened. He should feel fear, revulsion even, at what he had just witnessed. But instead, his heart softened. The child giggled, his small face radiating an innocence that belied the strange hunger he had just displayed.


    “What are you?” Bion whispered, his voice trembling with a mix of alarm and wonder.


    The child responded with another soft laugh, his tiny fingers patting Bion’s cheek as though trying to reassure him.


    Behind him, Kallisto rose to her feet, her expression grave. “This is no ordinary child, Bion. His nature is… complicated. He carries something within him, something ancient and powerful.”


    Bion nodded slowly, lowering the child and cradling him close once more. “He’s a mystery,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the infant’s. “But one I feel bound to protect.”


    Kallisto placed a hand on his shoulder. “Protection will not be enough. You must guide him, Bion. Shape him, lest whatever darkness lies within consumes him.”


    Bion looked down at the babe, who had already nestled into his chest, his tiny breaths warm against Bion’s skin. A quiet determination settled over him.


    “I will do whatever it takes,” he vowed. “This child… he’s mine now. And I will not fail him.”


    As the stars outside shimmered faintly through the window, the weight of Bion’s words hung heavy in the air. The path ahead was uncertain, shadowed by questions and dangers, but in that moment, holding the mysterious infant in his arms, Bion knew he would face whatever came—no matter the cost.