Behind the large tree that served as the village chief's home, the laughter of children rang out—cheerful, yet unsettling. About five elf children—two girls and three boys—sat in a circle, playing a game that resembled rock-paper-scissors. Their hair was golden blonde, their eyes a warm brown, and their faces bore the innocent look of childhood… yet their expressions were full of cruelty.
"Haha! I win again!" shouted a boy named Rain, dressed in a clean white shirt and brown trousers. His long hair was tied back, giving him the air of a leader among them.
"Why do you keep winning?" grumbled one of the girls, Leah, her face sour.
But this wasn't just a game. Whoever won earned the "honor" of throwing the first stone at the creature locked inside a small iron cage—no larger than one used for goats. The creature huddled in a corner, small and motionless.
Reyhan, not far off, felt a strange unease. He drifted closer, trying to get a better look. And when his eyes finally pierced through the bars...
The world stopped.
The creature they were tormenting… wasn't a monster.
It was a little girl. Maybe six years old. Her hair was silvery white, long and tangled, sticking to her face and neck, dirty with blood and dust. Her eyes—icy blue like frozen crystals—were blank, as if the soul inside them had long since died.
She was Sylphia Astheris.
She wore a once-white shirt, now a brownish mess of dried blood, sweat, and dirt. Her pants were long, but the right leg was torn off up to her thigh, a fresh rip still visible. Around her neck was a black iron collar engraved with foreign runes that seemed to devour the surrounding light—cold and heavy, like a curse.
Reyhan moved closer. Instantly, a rancid stench hit him—blood, festering wounds, dried urine, and feces from the corner of the cage. The scent of suffering soaked every inch of the iron bars.
"This…" Reyhan couldn't find the words. Not just because of the overwhelming stench, but because of the meaning behind every scar on Sylphia's body. Whip marks that hadn't healed. Scratches. Bruises on her hands and legs. Skin burned raw by the sun. Her tiny body looked like it had been used for torture practice.
Without hesitation, Reyhan surged forward, placing himself between Sylphia and the children, trying to protect her. But… he was only wind. Intangible. Untouchable. Powerless.
The children kept laughing, as if this were all a joke. They mocked her, jeered, and threw stones. One struck her head, drawing blood. Still, she made no sound—just curled up tighter, as if this was normal for her.
"STOP IT! YOU BASTARDS!" Reyhan screamed, ramming his formless body against the children. But the wind had no mass. They didn't even flinch.
Suddenly, Tera, the girl with twin braids, squinted. "The wind's getting stronger."
"Yeah," Leah muttered, starting to look uneasy.
Rain spread his arms, as if embracing the air. He grinned. "Makes me wanna pee."
He glanced at Tera and Leah and waved his hand.
"Ew, he's gonna do it again! Come on, Leah!" Tera yelled, dragging her friend away.
Once the girls were gone, the atmosphere darkened. Rain lowered his belt with a wicked chuckle.
His gaze was terrifying—like a beast marking its territory.
Reyhan froze.
"Wait, Rain. You sure you're doing this alone?" said Beem, another boy, his tone serious.
Rain glanced back. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… are you sure you want to do it without us?" said Doren with a small smile.
Rain laughed. "Hahaha… fine! Join in, boys!"
The three stood before Sylphia. Their pants down.Their Dirty Things were aimed at the little girl's body.
Sylphia remained still. Her eyes empty. She didn't resist, didn't scream, didn't cry. She was already dead inside.
Reyhan screamed. He yelled with all his might. He remembered how, in the past, his screams could lift a girl's skirt. He hoped now, they could lift these vile creatures into the air and impale them on the jagged branches above.
"STOP! YOU MONSTERS, SAVAGES, DEMONS! DO YOU HAVE NO BRAINS?!"
The wind howled louder. Branches swayed. Dust spiraled. But none of them moved.
"This wind… feels like it's cheering us on," said Doren with a twisted smile.
"Shut up," Rain raised his hand. "We begin on three."
Reyhan tried to embrace Sylphia—to shield her. His form curled around her small body, even if he couldn't protect her.
"One."
The wind roared, but it wasn't enough.
"Two."
Reyhan shut his eyes. Desperate. Heartbroken.
"Th—"
"STOP."
A heavy voice thundered from inside the great tree-house. Deep. Cold. Crushing—like the footsteps of death. A voice that made all living things bow in fear.
The boys froze. Their bodies trembled. Their lust vanished, replaced by bone-deep dread.
Reyhan fell silent. That voice… He recognized it. It felt like death itself whispering.
From within the tree, the voice called again.
"Leave. I have business with the slave."
It was soft… yet bore the pressure of a thousand stones on one's chest.
Without hesitation, the three boys fled—pants still down, gasping for breath, pale as corpses.
'Finally, someone to help,' Reyhan thought, a flicker of relief blooming. At least for now.
"Enter, and come to my private chamber," the voice continued from inside the towering tree, now seeming more like a living spire. A shadow shot out—like an overzealous bat—and unlocked the cage with a soft click.
Sylphia, weak and unsteady, crawled out slowly. Her body trembled, but her eyes stayed sharp. She walked toward the open door, which seemed to welcome… or devour her.
Reyhan felt uneasy. He floated in after her—like a curious wind that had lost its way.
Inside, the first thing that struck him was… the smell.
The scent of old wood, mold, and something faintly metallic. Like a forest that had never been washed. The room was a large circle, no halls or dividers. A single spiral staircase clung to the wall. Everything was wooden—no lamps, no magical light. Only sunlight leaking through the windows, casting long, twisted shadows.
"This is a house? Looks more like a bat's lair," Reyhan muttered inwardly, amused.
Sylphia suddenly stomped her left foot three times.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
The floor trembled softly, and—click!—a hidden panel opened in the center, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.
"Oh, a secret door. Classic. Usually leads to either a wine cellar or a torture room. One of the two."
The little girl descended the stairs without hesitation. Reyhan followed.
At the bottom, a dark corridor stretched ahead. The walls were made of charred black wood, intact but eerie. Dim lanterns flickered, casting dancing shadows along the path.
For twenty meters, Reyhan floated in silence, circling Sylphia playfully.
"Hey, cutie. You sure this is the right way? Heaven's usually up, not down."
Sylphia frowned—not because she heard him, but because she felt something strange. An unnatural breeze.
Reyhan chuckled softly. "She's cute when she's confused. If she'd had a normal life, I bet she'd be a cheerful little girl."
Then the voice echoed again—closer this time. "Hurry."
The tone made Reyhan's formless body stiffen. It felt like being dragged toward something… dark.
Sylphia raised her left hand and knocked three times on the wall at the end.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
The wall slowly opened. And with it, a stench flowed out—like a wave of rot from hell.
The stench of dried blood, feces, pus, rotting corpses, and something else... something that defied explanation. Like a mixture of dead rats and vengeful spirits.
"Okay… this is definitely not a wine cellar."
Reyhan felt like vomiting, even though he no longer had a stomach.
A vast rectangular chamber.
To the right—five cages held young boys.
To the left—five cages for girls.
The two front cages were empty. Either not yet filled... or their occupants were already dead.
The children...
—one had severe skin disease, with flesh peeling off.
—another had lost both eyes.
—some had their mouths and noses sewn shut, leaving only small holes to breathe.
—one had arms surgically placed on their back.
—and the rest were in conditions that could hardly be called human.
"Bastards... who could do something like this?" Reyhan growled.
His voice was full of rage and nausea, though no one could hear it.
But the true horror had yet to unfold...
Sylphia stepped forward, approaching a man standing beneath a dimly flickering chandelier.
The figure was writing something down, dressed in a long black coat, his hair white like scorched snow, pale reddish eyes, and long ears—an unmistakable trait of the elven race.
As Reyhan tried to peek at the man's notes...
He froze.
His mind stopped.
His gaze locked in place.
In one corner of the room, a boy—no more than eight, his body covered in fresh burn marks—was raping a girl his age who had no arms or legs. Their eyes were blank. Emotionless. As if they were broken puppets forced to act out a scene.
"NO—"
Reyhan's psyche shattered in that instant.
"Why do I have to see this... Why do I..."
He screamed in silence.
His emotions surged—rage, disgust, guilt, heartbreak—all of it in turmoil.
The air in the room began to stir.
A breeze formed where none should have been possible.
"Strange... why is there wind in here?" the man muttered, gently closing his book.
"Whatever. For now, stop all activities."
The boy grabbed the girl by her hair and dragged her back into the cage, like tossing aside an empty sack. Neither of them protested.
The man turned around and stared at Sylphia.
With a wide, toothy grin and glowing, menacing eyes, he said...
"You've arrived at last, Sylphia Astheris... my beloved daughter."
And at that very moment, Reyhan understood.
This was not a fantasy world of wonder and hope.
This was a world that looked beautiful from the outside...
...but was drenched in the deepest kind of darkness.