It was a hot summer evening, and the Arcturus family lounged in the sitting hall, the large oak doors wide open to welcome the cool northern breeze.
Everyone was content after a hearty dinner prepared by Lady Arcturus and her daughter-in-law, Olivia. Despite being in her late sixties, Lady Arcturus carried herself with remarkable grace. Her silver hair was braided neatly, and she wore a flowing dress embroidered with vibrant reds and oranges.
Seated beside Olivia, she sipped tea brewed from mountain herbs imported from Aponi — her favorite blend. Whenever she spoke of it, her eyes gleamed with joy.
Near the doorway, Sir Alexandre Arcturus, the family elder, sat quietly in a rocking chair, listening to a crystal-tuned radio softly murmuring news and melodies. Two children played on the floor nearby — a boy and a girl — their lively game of Exploding Dots filling the room with laughter.
"Take it upstairs if you must shout!" Alexandre growled, a playful scowl crossing his face.
The children giggled and scampered off.
From the distance, the sound of a carriage echoed through the hills, causing the old man to look up sharply. Moments later, two figures stepped out and approached the oak doors.
They were cloaked in black, and one of them was carrying a child.
"Oh my! Alexandre, come take a look! Your son has finally decided to visit — and he brought your grandson with him," said Lady Arcturus, rising to greet them.
"Good evening, Mother. Father. No need for fuss — though it's been too long," the man replied, lowering his hood.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, his long black hair tied back like Lady Arcturus's. He bore the family's strong features and the unmistakable Arcturus bearing.
"Come, Luna. Let me carry the boy — you must be exhausted," Lady Arcturus said gently.
Luna had flowing blonde hair and striking grey eyes that resembled storm clouds.
"Father, you have to forgive us, but we are not here to stay. Is Arthur not back from work yet?" the man asked in a sombre tone.
"He should be here in a minute," Olivia replied, still seated on the other side of the room.
"Sorry for not greeting you sooner, my dearest sister-in-law," the man added with a soft smile toward Olivia.
The large oak door creaked again, and another man stepped inside, carrying a briefcase.
"Arthur, you're here," said the visitor.
Arthur looked dreadful. His suit was covered in mud and torn in several places.
"I reckon it's another raid," the man muttered, embracing Arthur tightly.
"What brings you here today? It's not like you to visit without warning," Arthur asked, concern rising in his voice.
"Bad news. Very bad news, I'm afraid," the man replied softly. "Luna and I… we're about to be hunted by the entire world because of that thing."
He turned to Arthur, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder and locking eyes with him.
"I need you to look after my son, Art. You have to promise me you'll take care of him."
"You've been cursed," Arthur said at once.
The man looked down, silent for a moment.
"Yes," he finally admitted.
"We can't say who did it," Luna added, tears rolling down her cheeks. "And we can't stay with James. If we do… he'll die."
"I understand," Arthur said without hesitation.
"Whatever you hear or see, don't believe it," the man warned. "It's all lies — just a cover-up for what they've done."
His voice was nearly drowned out by the sound of the child waking and crying.
"Arthur... I need you to make a pact. They must never discover James. They must never know he's my son."
The room fell into heavy silence.
"Okay," Arthur answered with a firm nod.
"No! You can't, Arthur. It's too risky — there has to be another way!" Olivia cried.
"I have to do this, darling," Arthur said gently, placing a reassuring hand on her arm.
"Father, can you help us? Please make sure the ritual is correct — your Sar is the most refined here."
Alexandre stood silently. Without a word, he drew his Sigrod.
It was white as snow, carved to resemble a broken bone, and covered in intricate runes.
The man and Arthur grasped each other's arms as their father stepped forward.
The two men began muttering beneath their breath, barely audible — then finally:
"Écio Clostrum," Alexandre intoned.
A glowing chain appeared around the two men's hands.
"Let's begin, Arthur," the man said with urgency.
"I vow to keep this secret with all that is my body, mind, and heart — to protect that which is my blood," Arthur declared. "By my blood for blood, Sar for soul, I make this vow. The one who hides shall not be found. And once set, the vow can never be undone. For if it is, the soul shall perish."
The glowing chains turned translucent, then vanished.
"Thank you, Arthur," the man said quietly.
He turned to Alexandre. "Father… the answers will come in due time."
James's parents said their final goodbyes. Luna knelt and kissed James on the forehead, her eyes heavy with tears.
"May the goddess Hecate be with you," Lady Arcturus said softly as they left.
Nine years later.....
It was the middle of the night. Not a single soul could be seen on the cold, rain-drenched streets of 24 Victoria in Jižní. The downpour pelted the city as if the heavens themselves were weeping.
"Wake up, James! Wake up, I tell you!" cried Angus, a small and pale-looking boy.
"What do you want? It's the middle of the night. Tell me what you want, Angus," James grumbled.
"Look outside, James. Look! Can you see it?"
James tossed aside his blankets, rubbed his eyes, stretched his arms wide, and yawned.
He was a young lad, just nine years old. Quite handsome for his age, with neatly combed brown hair that resembled polished wood. It often drew attention since he looked nothing like the rest of his family. But his most unique feature was his eyes—an unusual shade of blue with a silver undertone.
He sat dazed on his bed, listening to Angus ramble, not yet moving.
Angus, looking even paler than usual, stood frozen by the window, staring outside as if he'd seen a ghost.
James finally stood and joined him. When he looked through the window, he too went pale. Fear clutched him. He didn't move from the spot for what felt like an eternity.
When he finally turned away, he ran to Angus, who was trembling.
"What's that, Angus? Do you know what it is?" James asked.
"No! I don't, James. I have no clue! But it looks like one of those Houllers Mother tells us about in her bedtime stories. Let's take a closer look."
Angus pressed his face against the window, squinting through the glass. But the storm outside was getting worse. The rain lashed violently, and thick fog covered everything. It was too misty to make anything out clearly.
Suddenly, a jet of light flashed.
The boys recoiled, stepping back in alarm.
Then, without warning, Angus collapsed.
James tried to scream, but no sound came. No words. It felt like he had forgotten how to speak — as if something had stolen his voice, leaving him hollow.
A shadowy figure began approaching the window.
Another flash of light. James blinked.
When he opened his eyes, the shadow stood right in front of him.
It had a humanoid shape.
"Who are you? What… what are you?" James whispered in terror.
The creature was draped in tattered rags, floating mid-air. Its face was shrouded in cloth, and its body cloaked in swirling black smoke — as if it were part of the shadows themselves.
It crept toward James.
It had no eyes, no face — nothing, just a void.
And its breath—
It was the foulest thing James had ever smelled. Like rotting flesh. Like a dead animal left in the summer sun.
The creature reached out its long, claw-like fingers, moving toward James's eyes, as if trying to gouge them out.
Its breath made James feel powerless. His will to fight vanished. He had given up on even trying to escape.
Well… maybe it will leave after taking my eyes, James thought to himself.
The creature slowly extended its hand toward James's face. The closer it got, the more terrified James became, until finally—it touched him.
A new sensation washed over James. He felt nothing. He was void of all emotions, suspended in a state of limbo. The creature's hand gripped his face and tilted it upward.
Its claws inched closer and closer to his eyes—
Then suddenly, its hand burst into flames.
The creature shrieked — a high-pitched, haunting cry that echoed through the room. The sound was enough to wake the entire house.
Within moments, the door flew open.
A man burst in, holding a Sigrod. The tip glowed, illuminating the room.
With a pop, the creature vanished into thin air.
James collapsed to the floor.
The figure entered was Arthur.
As James lay there, drifting into a forced slumber, he heard muffled voices around him.
"Houllers, Arthur! Bloody Houllers! My son attacked by those creatures!" a woman shouted, her voice shaking with rage. "I want that boy out of this house! He's going to get my child killed!"
Her fury was so intense that the glasses in the room began to crack and shatter from the force of her words.
"Your brother is a traitor, and you know it!" Olivia snapped. "No wonder James keeps getting attacked. And what promise? He'll be turning ten on the twenty-fourth. You must make sure he goes! If only not for—"
Arthur moved quickly, covering her mouth before she could say more.
"Olivia, control yourself. I forbid you to talk about that. The walls have ears," he said in a hushed but stern tone. "Let's drop this conversation. The important thing is that no one was hurt."
Olivia frowned, said nothing more, and stormed back to bed.
That night, Arthur sat in a chair beside the boys and kept watch as they slept.
By morning, the sky had softened, and golden light poured into the room.
James woke up slowly. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. Though something horrid had happened, his sleep was strangely peaceful.
"Boy, you're awake now. Gave us quite the scare last night," Arthur said with a gentle smile.
He had a distinct face, clear blue eyes, and a kind demeanor — even with the scar above his brow shaped oddly like a twisted trident. His athletic build hinted at a man used to action.
James smiled faintly and sat up, comforted by Arthur's presence.
"Uncle… why do bad things keep happening to me?" James asked softly.
Arthur's eyes softened. "Because, James… the one gift the world gives equally — is an unfair burden."
James said nothing.
"But even in the heart of the storm," Arthur added, "there is always a place where the winds are calm."
"He fancies himself a sage," Angus muttered. "Grandpa has clearly rubbed off on you, Father."
They both chuckled.
But Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"That thing… it shouldn't have been able to enter. The barriers were intact. Unless—" He stood, thinking.
A voice echoed from a nearby passage.
"Unless someone let it in."
Arthur's voice grew tight. "That's absurd…"
He snapped his fingers.
"Lucy! Come forth!"
"You summoned me, Master?" said a voice.
Lucy, a young servant, stepped into the room and bowed.
"Who could have let a Houller inside?" Arthur asked.
Lucy glanced sideways, hesitant. "Some in this house… resent the young master."
Arthur's brow furrowed. "Who?"
Lucy opened her mouth—then yelped, clutching her throat.
A sigil flared at her neck. All the servants had them — seals to forbid them from revealing certain secrets.
Arthur's eyes narrowed. Someone had cast a forbidden seal.
Just then, Olivia entered.
"What are you on about now?" she asked, too calm.
"Just... wondering how the Houller got in," Arthur replied.
She tilted her head. "Isn't it obvious? The boy draws them. He always has."
Her tone was cold.
"Now come, your father wants to speak with you. It's about Doddington."
Without waiting, she turned and left.
Arthur lingered, his eyes still on the Boundling.
James sat quietly beside Angus.
Something in this house was wrong.
And somehow… it was all connected to him.