The boundless sea stretched in deep azure. The spring waves shimmered with a faint chill. Birds huddled in cliffside crevices, shivering slightly in the newly warmed air. A few sails dotted the distant water.

Shirin opened her eyes to dawn’s light. She stood at the cliff’s edge, wind whipping her long hair behind her.

"Your Highness." A shadowy figure materialized beside her like dark smoke, kneeling respectfully.

"How goes the task I entrusted to you?"

"It is done."

"Hmm." Shirin nodded. "Then I shall return first."

She turned toward the jagged shore rocks and sighed. "Helen, your aunt can only do this much. From here on… I hope you succeed."

○

Shirin walked home, basket in hand. Inside lay a beautiful single-handed sword—Nevia had clamored for it endlessly. She hadn’t planned to arm the girl, but Nevia was no longer small. By continental custom, it was time for a defensive weapon… Besides, Shirin had felt a vague premonition lately. Something unforeseen loomed. That unease finally pushed her to prepare this.

What expression would light up the little one’s face? Imagining Nevia’s lively features, Shirin smiled.

From afar, she spotted Nevia outside their house. Shirin waved, but Nevia didn’t rush over. Instead, she darted inside. Shirin rubbed her nose, vexed.

○

"Alyssa…" Nevia called urgently. The little girl turned back, puzzled. "Hmm?"

"Mom’s back!" Startled, Alyssa froze, wide-eyed. "What do we do?"

"Quick—escape through the back door!"

"Oh! Oh!" Alyssa stammered, then fled.

Nevia sighed in relief. Then she remembered. She swept Alyssa’s extra plate off the table, shattering it. She kicked the shards aside. Only then did she face the room’s confused stares. "Mom forbids me from playing with Alyssa. Don’t mention she was here…"

As she spoke, Shirin appeared at the door. Nevia instantly switched to a sweet, obedient smile. "Mom, good morning!"

"Hmm. Good morning." Shirin hugged her. "Why run when you saw me?" she whispered in Nevia’s ear.

"Um…" Nevia’s eyes darted, uneasy. "Nothing much."

"Be honest. I won’t be angry. Otherwise…" Shirin blew a playful threat into her ear.

"I just…" Nevia stuck out her tongue. "Accidentally broke a plate." Her voice turned adorably sheepish.

Shirin’s gaze shifted to the hidden shards. *Mischievous little one!* She wouldn’t dwell on it, but to curb Nevia’s carelessness, she put on a stern face. She flicked Nevia’s forehead lightly. "This is punishment. Be careful next time. Understood?"

"Got it," Nevia nodded obediently.

"Here." Shirin pulled the sword from the basket. "For you."

"Wow…" Nevia gasped, snatching it. The slender blade was fifty centimeters long, its scabbard etched with intricate openwork. "For me?" she breathed, incredulous.

"Of course."

"You’re the best, Mom!" Nevia threw her arms around Shirin.

○

"Is this the place?"

At Alyssa’s doorstep stood a youth in white robes, golden crosses embroidered on his cuffs. His face hid in his hood’s shadow. Pure white, yet radiating gloom.

"Yes." Beside him, a golden-haired girl in matching church attire smiled faintly. She planted a massive golden cross into the muddy ground. Her lips curved, but her eyes burned with blade-sharp hatred.

"I sense darkness," she breathed, disgust thick in her voice. "The accursed Demon descendant."

"Holy Light be with us!" The youth crossed himself and stepped forward. The door burst open with dazzling golden light.

○

Under a gloomy sky, Alyssa ran toward her house, smiling. Yesterday had been so happy. Roadside flowers swayed as if laughing in the wind. Even the breeze sounded joyful. She hummed a tune.

Dark clouds gathered on the horizon. Alyssa quickened her pace.

The door stood ajar. She froze—a flicker of fear—but didn’t stop. Something precious lay inside…

Her mother’s portrait lay on the floor. The house was ravaged, like a storm had torn through. Alyssa snatched the portrait, scrubbing it with small hands. Tears blurred her vision.

"Got you." A cold voice cut through. Before Alyssa could turn, a golden flash filled her sight. Her feet left the ground—someone gripped her collar.

"Demon stench…"

"Huh. So this little thing killed Count Westen?" The golden-haired girl lifted Alyssa’s chin. "Where are your accomplices?"

Alyssa just sobbed.

"She won’t talk, feigning pity… Kill her?" the youth suggested, smiling.

"Seems wise…"

The girl gazed at Alyssa’s tear-filled eyes and sighed. "Since you won’t cooperate…" She drew a cold-gleaming sword, pressing it slowly to Alyssa’s neck. "Well? What do you think?" Her voice turned deceptively gentle.