Abaddon

They said I was a disgrace. A failure. An embarrassment to the family.

They called me weak. Useless. Not even worthy of our bloodline. My brothers laughed at me. My mother looked at me like I was some stranger she hated. And my father… he never looked at me at all. It was like I didn’t exist.

Then one day, without warning, they threw me out of the house. I wasn’t allowed to pack my things or say goodbye. Not that anyone would’ve cared. They sent me far from the kingdom, all the way to a small orphanage in the countryside. And they took away my last name too—Valion. A name that once meant something.

Now I was just nobody.

Just a boy with no name. A boy who tripped when he walked and fainted when he tried to use magic. A broken kid the gods seemed to have forgotten.

Most days, I stayed alone in my small room. I liked sitting by the window, looking far into the distance, hoping to see the place I once called home. I used to dream about being strong. About being fast. About being someone my family could be proud of.

Maybe if I had been stronger, my mother would have hugged me once. Maybe my father would have spoken to me. Maybe my brothers would have stood beside me like real siblings.

But those dreams felt farther and farther away with every day that passed.

“Arc! There you are!”

A voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I turned to see Elise standing at the doorway. She looked annoyed. Her arms were crossed tightly, and her short golden hair was messy like she’d been running. Her skin was warm-toned, and her bright green eyes locked onto mine.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said, walking into the room and catching her breath.

“Stop calling me Arc,” I muttered. “It’s Archie.”

“I don’t care what you want to be called,” she replied sharply. “We’re partners today. You can’t just vanish like that.”

She took a few steps closer and stared at me.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice softening. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

My chest tightened. I felt the anger rising.

“What? Because I’m weak?” I said bitterly. “You think I’ll break if I bump into a chair? You don’t have to pretend to care.”

She sighed and lowered her arms.

“I’m not pretending,” she said calmly. “I’m not pitying you, either. I’m just worried because you’re my partner.”

But I could still see it in her eyes. The sympathy. The quiet pity she tried to hide.

“Just leave me alone,” I said, turning my face back toward the window. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Elise opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, but she stayed quiet. She stood there for a few seconds, and I could feel her eyes still on me.

Then she left, slamming the door harder than she probably meant to.

The room was quiet again.

I let out a long sigh.

I knew I’d pushed her away. I always did that. Elise had never been cruel to me—not like my family. She was probably the only one who truly cared. But I didn’t want kindness that came from guilt. I didn’t want to be treated like something fragile.

Since I came to this orphanage, everyone had been nice. The matron gave me warm food and clothes. The cook made sure I always had enough to eat. Sometimes adventurers would visit and bring toys or treats. Not one person called me weak or laughed at me.

But even here… I kept my distance.

Because I knew what they really saw when they looked at me. A poor, broken boy. Someone they had to be kind to out of pity.

I didn’t want that.

I didn’t want to be pitied.

Even now, after being treated better than ever before, I still missed my home—the place that threw me away. I still wished my family would take me back.

“Pathetic.”

The voice came from nowhere. Cold and sharp.

I jumped. My heart skipped a beat.

“Who… who said that?” I asked, spinning around.

There was no one.

Then the voice spoke again.

“How pathetic can one boy be? Crying over people who dumped him like trash.”

I turned toward the corner of the room—toward the dresser.

Something was there.

A shadow. Sitting on top of it, quiet and still.

“Who’s there?” I asked, my voice shaky as I took a step back.

The shadow didn’t move. It stayed sitting, calm and quiet. Then, slowly… two glowing red eyes opened in the dark. They weren’t human. But they weren’t beast-like either. They stared straight at me, curious and cold.

“Show yourself,” I whispered.

The darkness faded away.

And sitting there… was a girl.

She looked about my age. Maybe younger. Her skin was pale, like untouched snow. Her long black hair flowed down her back, reaching her knees. She wore a dark cloak covered in strange glowing markings. And on her forehead was a small black horn.

She stared at me with wide red eyes, surprised.

“You… you can see me?” she whispered, almost in disbelief.

I nodded slowly. “You’re sitting right there.”

She tilted her head slightly. “No one has ever seen me. Not the matron. Not the children. Not in over a hundred years.”

I felt my fear start to fade. Now I was more curious than afraid.

“What are you?” I asked. “A spirit? A demon?”

She didn’t answer. Not at first.

Then, in a blink, she disappeared.

I gasped—and then froze.

She was right in front of me now. Inches away. Her face was so close, I could feel her breath.

“What do you think I am?” she asked. Her voice dropped to a growl.

She wanted to scare me.

But I didn’t step back.

I raised an eyebrow. “With that horn… I’d guess a demon. But you don’t feel like the ones I’ve read about in books. You feel more… human.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. She leaned back and blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“You’re not scared?” she asked. “You don’t think I’ll eat your soul or curse your bloodline?”

I shook my head. “No. Your eyes told me you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“My… eyes?” she repeated, as if the word was funny.

Then, out of nowhere, she burst into laughter.

She fell to the floor, laughing so hard that tears rolled down her cheeks—tears that glowed red like blood.

I just stood there, blinking.

She was unlike anything I’d ever seen.

“I like you,” she said between giggles.

She kicked herself up to her feet and looked straight into my eyes.

“Want to be my friend?”

Little did I know those words would be the turning point of my life.