Prologue

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Sobbing echoed through the previously silent room, joining the cacophony of howling winds outside. A woman sat up in bed, tears rolling down her defined cheeks, back resting against the headboard. She clutched the body of a small child to her chest. A newborn, far too small for their age, wrapped loosely in a blanket. She looked down at the child's tiny face, its eyes closed, bloody skin and pale complexion almost sickening to the sight. The woman bit her bottom lip, her copper eyes glossing over with tears once again. The baby wasn't squirming; they weren't even whimpering. Their chest lay still, no breath escaping their mouth. Just as another sob was about to leave the woman's mouth, her hand was taken by a tall, well built man at her bedside. The look on his face wasn't sorrowful like hers, but one of comforting for his distressed wife. He knelt down, holding her long, slender fingers in his, using the other hand to gently wipe the tears from her face. She tilted her head away, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"...Why isn't baby brother moving?"

The woman winced, turning to see a young boy standing at the foot of her bed. He stood on his tiptoes to see over the footboard, little hands grasping at the wood, wide blue eyes staring at his mother intently. The woman held back a whimper, clutching her husband's hand tighter.

"Dyskord, darling. Your brother is... just taking a little nap. That's all." She couldn't bring herself to say it. She didn't want to believe it. Maybe if she didn't admit it, it wouldn't be true.

"When will he wake up?" Dyskord bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, then moved to climb up onto the bed, only to be dissuaded by his father gently pushing him back. "I wanna see him!"

The woman bit her lip, tears brimming behind closed eyelids once again. Before she could become lost in her thoughts again, her husband spoke up.

"Dyskord. Your brother is-"

Before the man could finish his sentence, the latch on the window snapped like a twig, the shutters swinging open with a loud clang. The storm raging outside rushed through the opening, the torches snuffed out by its reaching fingers. A chill ran up the woman's spine, a lump forming in her throat. The wailing of the wind outside met her ears and she couldn't help but whisper a silent prayer. She hadn't praid in years, but it was the only thing she could think to do - as if compelled by an unseen force. A hand caressed her cheek, a familiar feeling, wiping the tears that trickled down. It was only when she heard the window slam shut did she realize it wasn't her husband cupping her cheek. She watched as he lit the torches once more, bathing the room in a soft, flickering light; then looked to see... no one standing beside her. Though the sensation still lingered. The comforting touch of a warm hand.

"Mother! Look!"

The woman blinked, watching as her son climbed up onto the bed, still lost in a daze. With faded she looked to where her son was pointing, down at the form held in her arms. A gasp escaped her mouth. The newborn's face had scrunched up as they took their first breath, then began to cry. The woman began to shake as she slowly held the child closer to her chest, trying to gather herself, only to break into wails not dissimilar to her son's.

"Sweetheart. It's... it's a miracle!" She choked out between tears, turning to her husband - the first smile in ages crossing her face. She looked down to the baby in her arms. "My little Kaos..."

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