HEAVEN'S FORSAKEN SON

The last protector

The nights in the Darkveil Clan were always too quiet.

For Arin, silence meant safety. There were no laughter, no murmurs among the people that he was cursed and no boys waiting to shove him in the dirt.

But the silence was never empty. Because his mother was always there with him. 

Selene Darkveil was not the strongest cultivator, nor the most powerful. Her roots were modest and her cultivation only at the mid stages of Spirit Foundation. Yet to Arin, she was a fortress no wall could compare to.

When others turned their backs, she turned toward him. When others mocked, she smiled at him.

He remembered nights when she sat beside his bed, holding his hand until sleep took him.

“Close your eyes, Arin,” she whispered. “Dream of a place where no one calls you cursed. Dream of the path you will one day walk.”

And he did.

When other children trained with swords, Selene gave him sticks and taught him how to hold them and how to balance his feet. Not because he could fight, but because she wanted him to feel included.

“Strength is not only in qi,” she said, guiding his stance with gentle hands. “It’s here.” She tapped his chest, right where his small heart beat.

Arin never forgot those words.

In her arms, he could almost believe the world was not cruel.

One night, when Arin was seven, the stillness of the yard shattered.

Murmurs stirred outside his window. The rustle of boots on the sand. People moving in blur where no people should be.

Selene, light sleeper that she was, rose instantly. Her instincts sharpened. She pressed a hand to Arin’s chest as he stirred.

“Stay quiet,” she mouthed.

The door creaked. People slipped inside, boys, a little older than Arin and their eyes alight with vicious glee. Rival clan brats who had always despised the Darkveil, sent by parents too cowardly to act openly.

They carried real daggers. The leader sneered. “So this is the cripple. Let’s end his curse once and for all.”

Arin froze. His breath caught in his throat. His body shook as one boy raised the dagger.

But before the blade could fall, Selene moved.

She lunged forward, pulling Arin into her arms, spinning her body to shield him. Steel flashed right through Arins face. ‘Hmph!” she groaned as blood splattered across the wooden floor.

Her gasp was soft, almost gentle. She held him tighter with her back trembling.

“Mother…?” Arin’s small voice cracked. He felt the warmth spilling onto him. “Mother, you are bleeding!”

She gritted her teeth. With one arm, she shoved a table forward, toppling it into the boys and scattering them. With the other, she held Arin close, staggering toward the yard door.

Her breath was shallow, her face pale, but her eyes were fierce.

“You will live, Arin. Even if I have to give up everything.”

They burst into the yard. The boys cursed and gave the to the chase. Selene stumbled, her steps faltering and her blood staining her robe.

Arin clung to her, sobbing. “Stop, Mother! Please, you’re hurt.”

“Quiet,” she whispered, pressing his head against her chest. “Don’t look back. Don’t let them see your tears.”

A blade whistled through the air. Selene turned her body, taking the strike across her side instead of Arin. Her knees buckled.

Still, she shielded him. Still, she would not let him go.

She reached the moonlit garden, where the clan’s alarm bells finally rang. Elders and guards moved forward. The rival youths fled into the night.

Selene collapsed.

Arin landed on his knees beside her, his small hands shaking as they pressed against her wounds. “Mother, don’t leave me! Please, you can’t…”

Her bloody hand cupped his cheek.

Her smile was faint, trembling. “Arin… promise me. Promise me you’ll live. No matter the pain. No matter the shame.”

Her eyes softened, her voice breaking. “You are not a curse. You are my son.”

And then… her hand fell away. Her breath stopped and the world shattered right in his face. 

Arin screamed until his voice cracked. He shook her shoulders and begged her to wake. But Selene Darkveil’s eyes never opened again.

When the elders arrived, their faces hardened and their eyes went cold.

“She gave her life for him,” one muttered. “All for a cursed child.”

Another spat on the ground. “Proof enough. His presence brings death to those near him.”

Their words pierced deeper than any blade.

Arin clung to his mother’s body, sobbing with the guilt devouring him.

If not for him, she would still live.

If not for him, she would still smile.

And though he was only a boy, that night Arin decided that her death was his fault.

The next morning, when the clan prepared her body for burial, Arin snuck into her chamber.

There, on her table, lay an embroidered scrap of cloth. A simple piece, worn with age and stitched with a small symbol he did not recognize. It smelled faintly of her.

Arin pressed it to his chest. His tears soaked into the fabric.

“This… this is all I have left of you.” He swore never to part with it.

No matter how much they mocked him, no matter how deep the shame, he would keep this piece of her.

He hid it beneath his robe, close to his heart.

The funeral pyres burned at dusk. Smoke curled into the heavens as the clan gathered in their ceremonial robes.

Arin stood small at the edge of the yard. His face was pale and his eyes swollen from tears. He wanted to step closer, but every glance shoved him back.

“They say she died shielding him,” someone whispered.

“A waste of a good life.”

“If not for him, she’d still be here.”

The fire roared and the sparks of it scattered into the darkening sky.

Arin’s fingers clenched around the embroidered cloth hidden in his sleeve. He bit his lip until it bled, forcing back the sobs.

But Kael Darkveil did not let him mourn in silence.

The boy, two years older and already glowing with faint sparks of qi, stepped forward before the gathered clan. His voice rang clear and sharp as a dagger.

“It is a disgrace,” Kael said, pointing at Arin. “She gave her life for trash. For a curse. Because of you, we lost someone worthy. Because of you, the Darkveil name is stained!”

The elders said nothing. None of them defended Arin. Some even nodded.

Arin’s body shook. His chest burned in anger.

But then Kael did the unthinkable.

He spat a glob of contempt hitting the dirt at Arin’s feet.

The entire clan saw it and no one stopped him.

Arin’s nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. His lips trembled.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to throw himself into the fire with his mother.

But all he could do was stand there beholding the smoke rising to the cloud. Kael’s scorn burned into his soul.

At that moment, a vow silently formed in his heart.

“One day, Kael. I’ll repay every scar, every wound and every humiliation. Even if I must defy the heavens themselves.”