Two days.

  Just two more sunrises before I become a certified, legally named human.

  I kicked open the door like a tax collector on payday and yelled into the morning air, “Citizens of Valley of Joy! Your unnamed ruler demands attention!”

  The guards blinked.

  One spat out his tea.

  The baker’s kid just pointed and said, “Why are you always like this?”

  “Because I’m royalty trapped in the body of a peasant child,” I said with a spin. “Also, in two days, I get a name. A real name. Not ‘kid’ or ‘you.’ Get jealous.”

  I paraded through the village, announcing my upcoming birth-right like I was campaigning for village president. People chuckled. Others ran. Fair.

  Back home, I climbed onto Harold’s lap with all the grace of a clumsy kitten. “Dad! I demand birthday arrangements.”

  Harold looked up from his paper. “Hmm?”

  “Big cake. No berry stuff. Balloons. Fireworks. Possibly a live goat wearing a hat.”

  Lisa peeked from the kitchen. “A goat?”

  “...Companion. His name will be Lord Muffin.”

  Lisa laughed so hard she dropped a spoon. “We’ll clean up the house and decorate. Just don’t burn anything.”

  “Burn? Me? Innocent? Never.”

  The next afternoon, while “helping” with cleaning—which mostly meant running in circles with a duster like a confused chicken—I noticed Harold pointing at a box.

  “If you can move that to the door,” he said, “I’ll give you a present early.”

  Early present?!

  Greed activated. Little goblin Aria mode: ON.

  I marched to the box. It was big. Heavy. Stubborn.

  I puffed my cheeks and squatted.

  “Alright, box. You move, I get shiny stuff.”

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  I braced myself, and as I lifted—that’s when it happened.

  My hands flared.

  A beautiful, deep black aura—like liquid ink dipped in starlight—erupted from my palms, swirling around my arms in elegant tendrils. It wasn’t fire. It wasn’t wind. It was something darker, older. It danced like a shadow with purpose.

  “What the hell—” I barely managed to whisper.

  And then—

  BOOOOOM.

  A circular burst of black smoke exploded from me, launching the box clean across the floor—where it landed perfectly at the door like it belonged there.

  Me?

  I was launched backward, sticking to the wall like a painting.

  Wide-eyed. Smoke in the air. Boot slightly crooked.

  Lisa ran in. “Aria?!”

  Harold followed, eyes scanning the room. “What was that sound?”

  I slid down the wall and stood up like nothing happened. “I... I jumped. With enthusiasm.”

  Lisa scooped me up in a panic, checking for wounds. “Are you sure you're not hurt?!”

  “Emotionally? Yes. Physically? I’m elastic.”

  Harold laughed and gave me a small wrapped gift. “A deal’s a deal.”

  I opened it and gasped—tiny enchanted boots. Sparkly. Glowy. Possibly enchanted for speed. I stomped around dramatically.

  But later, as the room settled and my mind quieted, I looked at my palms.

  That magic... it wasn’t normal.

  And deep down, something told me… this wasn’t the end.

  The moon hovered like a watchful eye. A cool breeze swept through the village. All seemed calm.

  But on the outer walls, two guards stood still, staring at the distant wheat fields.

  “Did you hear that?” one asked.

  The other nodded. “Something’s moving. Too quiet. Too... wrong.”

  A deep hum began to rise from the ground.

  The air turned thick.

  And then—

  SPLAT.

  One guard's body hit the wall—headless.

  The remaining guard turned—but something was behind him.

  Two glowing slits, like white-hot scars, blinked open in the mist.

  A massive figure emerged—like a bear forged from fog and nightmare, with the thick muscular frame of a gorilla and the malice of a demon.

  It growled, low and guttural, shaking the very stone beneath.

  The guard screamed—

  I was asleep.

  I dreamed of nothingness—a pitch-black void. Then, two glowing sea-blue eyes blinked open in front of me.

  No face. No form.

  Just eyes. Powerful. Ancient.

  They stared into my soul and whispered:

  “You chose both... now do both, Aria Clarke.”

  I opened my mouth to ask—but woke up before I could speak.

  Only to see—

  Fire.

  Screams.

  My room shook. Lisa and Harold were over me, shielding me. The air was thick with smoke.

  From the window—I saw it.

  The village was under attack.

  Flames devoured rooftops. People ran. Shadows tore through the streets.

  Monsters.

  Huge, mist-made beasts. Half bear, half gorilla. No eyes. No skin. Just black fog and teeth—endless, glinting, soul-splitting teeth.

  One smashed a house in half.

  Another roared—and the sound shattered windows.

  I screamed as Lisa held me tight, and Harold shouted something I couldn't hear over the chaos.

  And then, in the flickering firelight… one creature turned its head toward our house.

  It saw me.

  And it smiled.

  To Be Continued…