Xylo was born on the darkest night of the year. The air was thick, clouds swallowed the moon, and the village lanterns struggled to stay lit. His mother, Elara, gave birth to him in their small, isolated cabin on the edge of the forest. But when Xylo came into the world, something unnatural happened every light in the cabin extinguished at once, and the room was plunged into pitch-black darkness. His father, Theron, tried to relight the lanterns, but the flames refused to stay.
From that moment, the villagers whispered that Xylo was touched by something otherworldly. He was born with power over darkness itself.
As a child, Xylo lived a lonely life. His parents loved him dearly, but they feared his growing abilities. Shadows moved unnaturally around him, shifting and swirling as if they were alive. At first, it was small things his room would stay dark even when the sun was shining outside, or objects would disappear into patches of shadow only to reappear later. But as he grew older, his power became more volatile.
At the age of seven, Xylo had his first encounter with the dangers of his gift. Playing outside with the village children, one boy shoved him to the ground, mocking him for his strange aura. Xylo’s anger boiled over. His eyes turned jet black, and the shadows of the nearby trees lashed out, grabbing the boy by the throat. The other children screamed, running for their parents. It wasn’t until his father sprinted over and pulled him away that the shadows released their grip. The boy survived, but he was never the same his eyes were filled with terror every time he looked at Xylo.
That was the day everything changed.
Xylo’s parents kept him inside after that, isolating him from the village. They hoped that distance from others would help him control his power, but it only made him feel like more of an outsider. The shadows still whispered to him, constantly swirling at the edges of his vision. He couldn’t sleep; nightmares of the darkness consuming everything haunted him. His frustration grew as his control slipped further away.
By the time Xylo turned sixteen, his power had become almost impossible to contain. The villagers, once wary, now feared him outright. They called him cursed, and there were whispers of driving him away or worse. His parents, desperate to protect him, sought help from distant lands, but no healer or sage could remove the darkness that dwelled inside their son.
One night, a group of villagers set fire to the cabin while Xylo and his family slept. The flames spread quickly, licking at the wooden walls. Xylo’s parents rushed to escape, but the shadows within Xylo sensed the danger before he did. They reacted instinctively, wrapping around the flames and snuffing them out. The house was saved, but when Xylo emerged from the smoke, the darkness clung to him like armor. The villagers stood frozen in fear.
In that moment, something inside Xylo snapped. He no longer wanted to hide from his power, no longer wanted to be the frightened boy who lived on the outskirts of the world. If they thought him a monster, then he would show them what the darkness could do.
The ground beneath the villagers’ feet began to shake. The sky darkened, even though the sun had barely set, and the shadows from every corner of the village converged on Xylo. His body hovered above the ground, surrounded by a swirling storm of blackness. In a blur of rage and power, the shadows lashed out, tearing through the village. Houses crumbled, the earth split, and the villagers screamed in terror as the darkness consumed everything in its path.
When the rage subsided, Xylo stood alone amidst the ruins of the village. His parents, who had tried to shield him for so long, were gone lost in the chaos he had unleashed. The boy who once feared his power now had nothing left but it.
In the years that followed, Xylo became a wanderer. He traveled from village to village, always on the outskirts, never staying long. The darkness was a constant companion, sometimes protecting him, sometimes threatening to overwhelm him. He fought bandits, rogue mages, and even the occasional monster, but no battle was more dangerous than the one inside his own mind. The more he used his powers, the more they consumed him. Each victory came at a cost a little piece of his soul seemed to slip away with every surge of the dark energy.
As time passed, Xylo’s name became infamous. He was known as the Dark One, the Shadow Wielder, the cursed child who left ruin in his wake. But even as legends spread of his power, Xylo felt hollow. He had spent his entire life fighting against the world, against himself and now, nearing the end of his journey, he wondered if there was any hope for redemption.
One final battle awaited him. In a distant kingdom, a tyrant had risen, using magic to enslave his people. Xylo knew he had to stop him, even if it meant giving in to the darkness one last time. The battle was fierce, and the tyrant’s power was great, but in the end, Xylo prevailed. The kingdom was freed, but Xylo’s body could no longer contain the darkness. It began to consume him from within.
As he lay on the battlefield, the shadows swirling around him like a storm, Xylo realized that the darkness was never truly his enemy it was a part of him. And now, as the end drew near, he was finally ready to let it go. The darkness enveloped him entirely, and with one final breath, Xylo faded into the night, becoming one with the shadow that had shaped his life.
The sun rose the next morning, casting light on the kingdom he had saved, but Xylo was gone lost to the darkness forever.
