Prologue: Oakrest Massacre

The wind howled through the shattered village like something in pain.

Nine horsemen crested the ridge and reined in hard. Before them stood the peach tree...once tall and proud....now heavy with corpses swaying gently from its branches. One body, too small for a man, hung lower than the rest. 

As the riders watched, the branch finally surrendered. It cracked, dropped, and the child’s body hit the blood-soaked ground with a wet thud, leaves fluttering down like funeral petals.

Limbs of animals lay scattered across the mud. A goat, still alive, dragged itself forward on bloody stumps, bleating weakly.

Captain Raizen swung down from his saddle, drew his sword in one smooth motion, and ended the creature’s suffering. He wiped the blade on his cloak, voice low and hollow.

“Oakrest has fallen. Our arrival means nothing now.”

None of the nine men behind him answered. Their eyes refused to accept what they were seeing.

Then, from behind the peach tree, came laughter....high, bright, and completely wrong.

A boy no older than seven stepped into view, cradling the headless body of a cat against his chest. Fresh blood streaked his arms and cheeks. His laughter rang louder than the wind.

One of the horsemen muttered, “A child…?”

The boy noticed them. Without hesitation he dropped into the churned mud, blood splashing up his legs. He skipped forward a few steps, still giggling, then stopped and looked straight at Raizen.

“Boy’s lost his mind,” another rider whispered.

Raizen sheathed his sword and took one careful step closer. “Come here, lad.”

The boy tilted his head, eyes too wide and far too calm. “Are you gonna kill my cat too?” He lifted the ruined carcass. “If you are, take him. I want to see how you do it.”

He tossed the headless cat toward Raizen. It landed with a soft, sickening sound in the mud.

“Come on,” the boy said, voice bubbling with the wrong kind of excitement. “Do it like before.”

“Captain…” one of the men started, uneasy.

Raizen ignored him. He knelt on one knee in the blood-mud, keeping his movements slow. “It’s alright. Come here.”

The boy’s smile faltered for half a second. Then his small hand darted into his pocket and came out with a short knife.

Before anyone could react, he lunged at the cat’s body and began stabbing it again and again, each strike wild and joyful.

“See? Like this! Look! Look!”

Raizen moved fast grabbing the boy’s wrist, pulling him close, pinning the knife hand against his own chest. The child thrashed and bit down hard on Raizen’s shoulder, but the captain didn’t let go.

“It’s alright,” Raizen whispered against the boy’s tangled hair. “Let it go.”

“Kill it! I want to see! LET ME GO!”

The boy’s screams mixed with that horrible laughter as he kept biting and kicking. The other horsemen shifted uncomfortably in their saddles but stayed back, weapons half-drawn, unsure what their captain was doing.

Raizen held the struggling child tighter, blood from the boy’s clothes soaking into his own cloak.

“I failed this village once,” he said quietly, voice rough. “I won’t fail you too.”

The boy’s teeth sank deeper. Somewhere above them, the peach tree creaked in the wind, empty branches now swaying like they were still searching for something to carry.