Seori
Born by Shadow, bound by flame
The Demon Realm was wrong.
Not in the way I was taught. The Guild’s whispers painted it as a place of agony and horror—where shadows had teeth, where demons carved suffering into stone. But when I stepped through the gate, it wasn’t terror that greeted me.
It was familiarity.
The sky bled red and purple, streaked with scars of dark lightning, and yet... the air didn’t burn my lungs. The ground beneath my boots didn’t feel cursed. The heavy miasma that should’ve brought me to my knees simply... parted around me. Like it recognized me.
I clenched my jaw as I walked behind Jisoo and Taeyang, the towering bones of ancient beasts forming a jagged skyline around us. A chill skated down my spine, but not from fear—more like anticipation. Recognition.
“Taeyang,” I called out quietly.
He turned, his dark eyes wary.
“What?”
“Does it feel... wrong to you?”
His brow furrowed.
“Of course it does. This place was built on blood.” He hesitated, gaze flicking to me. “You shouldn’t be so calm.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself not to look away.
“I thought I’d be afraid. I thought I’d feel... sick. But I don’t. I feel...” I hesitated. “Like I’ve been here before. Like I belong.”
He didn’t answer. But I saw the flicker in his eyes, the way his hand rose to his chest again—always there, always reaching for something he wouldn’t name. The same look Rheon wore when he was near me.
We didn’t speak for the rest of the trek. And I couldn’t shake the thought echoing louder than my heartbeat: What am I?
That night, as they prepared camp near the hollowed remains of a scorched temple, I sat apart, perched on the ridge of a curved spine that jutted from the ground like the rib of a buried god. My fingers traced the runes on my blade, but my mind was far from steel.
The stars above pulsed red, but I knew them. Not from the sky over Seoul, but from somewhere buried deep in my soul. As if my blood had mapped them long before I was born.
“Why doesn’t the dark touch me?” I whispered into the silence. “Why does this place feel like home?”
A wind stirred the ash around me, but no voice answered. Only the weight of a thousand ghosts—none of them mine, but all of them familiar.
Jisoo watched me from the edge of the camp. I felt his gaze like static on my skin. Not threatening. Not curious.
Afraid.
Afraid of what I was becoming.
Afraid of what I’d always been.
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The demon realm stretched out before us, all crimson skies and jagged obsidian ridges that clawed at the heavens. The path to the old altar—where Rheon’s curse was born—was winding, forgotten, and thick with the kind of silence that didn’t feel natural. It felt like a held breath.
I tightened my grip on the hilt of my blade, sensing it before I saw it. The air shifted—like a tremor crawling beneath my skin.
Taeyang was ahead, his massive frame tense, eyes scanning the horizon.
“We’re getting close,” I murmured.
Jisoo chuckled under his breath.
“You can feel it too, can’t you?”
I glanced at him. There was something unreadable in his gaze. Not mischief. Not smugness. Something colder. Distant.
Then all hell broke loose.
Flames erupted from the ground—green, unnatural, forged from pure demonic magic. A dozen cloaked figures surged from the cliffs, blades drawn, incantations spilling from their mouths like venom.
I spun around just in time to block a strike aimed for my throat.
“Ambush!” I yelled, dodging, slashing, twisting through the chaos.
Taeyang’s roar shook the valley. He barreled toward me, cutting down a demon with one brutal swing of his axe.
“Seori! Stay behind—!”
But then Jisoo stepped between us.
“No—” I breathed, watching him raise a hand toward Taeyang.
He didn't attack. He just held his palm up, glowing with sigils I didn’t recognize. His lips moved.
“I’m sorry.”
The look in his eyes—shattered and ashamed—hit harder than any blade could’ve. His power flared, knocking Taeyang back with a burst of energy.
“What are you doing?” I screamed.
Jisoo turned his face away from mine.
From behind me, cloaked hands grabbed my arms. Chains wrapped around my wrists, glowing red-hot. I fought. I screamed. Fire burst from my palms, but it wasn't enough.
“Let me go!” I thrashed. “Jisoo! Why?!”
He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it would crack. Taeyang struggled against a ward circle at his feet, fury blazing in his eyes.
“You son of a—!” he snarled. “You betrayed us!”
“I didn’t want to,” Jisoo whispered, barely audible over the wind. “But the King wants her.”
And that’s when it hit me. This wasn’t just an ambush.
This was a sacrifice.
A trade.
And I was the price.