In the vast world of magic and miracles known as Sylviopia, there was a boy wandering the night, his steps unsteady, his breath ragged, as if each moment he might collapse.
He walked across Azeria, one of the seven great continents—a land that once overflowed with legends and heroes, now reduced to ruins and whispers. Here, every soul's fate is decided by forces unseen. Every soul… except his.
For him, nothing ever changes.
"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine."
I repeat the words under my breath like a broken prayer, as though saying them enough might make them true.
Tears sting my eyes, desperate to fall, but I force them back. In this world, crying is weakness. And in a kingdom teetering on the edge of ruin, the weak don't survive.
I tilt my head toward the sky. The moon hangs high and full, casting a pale glow over the shattered streets. I raise my hand, reaching for it—not because I believe I can touch it, but because I know I never should.
It's beautiful. Untouched. Pure.
And everything I touch… I destroy.
My heart is black, a curse that devours joy and life alike. People, moments, dreams—anything I try to hold close crumbles to ash in my grasp. That's why I walk alone, night after night, with no destination and no purpose.
If I were to find a place to belong, I'd only poison it. If I let myself care, I'd drain every last drop of happiness from those who gave me warmth.
So loneliness became my only companion.
My feet bleed from endless wandering, but I keep walking. The darkness doesn't frighten me—it is me. Even if the moon vanished, even if the night swallowed all light, I'd still walk this road.
Six winters have passed like this. Six years of cold nights that no longer bite my skin, though perhaps I've simply grown numb to them.
I tell myself there's a reason I'm still alive. That somewhere out there, a purpose waits.
But deep down, I know the truth.
I should have died the night I killed my own parents.
This is the darkness I hold within me.There are only two memories of my parents that remain clear in my mind.
The first is a curse.
The only words they ever spoke to me:
"You destroyed our lives. The day you were born… was the day our ruin began."
Those words clawed into my soul and never let go. Even now, they echo in my ears like a death knell.
The second memory… burns hotter than fire.
It's the memory of warmth—their blood, hot and sticky against my skin.
I can still feel it on my hands, my feet, searing into me like it wants to stay forever.
I stood frozen in the middle of it all, a child barely old enough to understand life, staring down at the lifeless bodies of the two people who once called me their son.
Their faces were pale, their bodies growing colder by the second.
And yet… they were smiling.
That smile was worse than their screams, worse than their curses.
It was not forgiveness. It wasn't love.
It was a mystery—a twisted, unbearable thing that I still can't understand.
Why were they smiling… when I was the one who killed them?
The sight never leaves me. Even now, I see it in my dreams, over and over.
I wake choking on screams, my throat raw, my chest aching as if the blood is still there, pooling around me.
I don't know how long I stood there, motionless.
Maybe minutes. Maybe hours.
Time didn't exist—only the silence, and their unblinking eyes watching me.
When I finally came back to myself, the warmth of their blood had faded to a chilling cold. My body moved on its own, staggering backward, and then—
Nothing.
The next thing I remember is opening my eyes inside an orphanage, surrounded by strangers.
But even there, the darkness followed me.
In less than a month, the place was in ruins.
I don't remember what I did.
I only know that when the smoke cleared and the walls were nothing but ash, I was standing there alone—just like before.
These two memories, like poisoned thorns, are all I have of my life… aside from my name.
While roaming I reached an abandoned house. That house stood like a corpse of stone and wood, its windows hollow and lifeless. Beyond it stretched a half-ruined bridge, swallowed by shadows.
The moment my eyes fell on it, a crushing weight pressed against my chest. The night seemed to grow thicker, the air colder. Then came the voices.
"Cursed child."
"Ruiner of lives."
"Why are you still breathing?"
They weren't whispers—they were knives, tearing through my skull, echoing in every corner of my mind. My knees buckled as I clutched my head.
"Aaaagh!"
The scream tore out of me, ragged and raw, shattering the silence of the night.
Pain rippled through my body like fire and ice, my heart pounding so violently I thought it would burst. My breath came in shallow gasps as tears threatened to fall.
Why am I even alive?
Why do I keep walking when the world would be better without me?
For the first time in six years, the thought of death didn't terrify me. It felt… almost peaceful. Maybe if I disappeared, the voices would go with me. Maybe the world would finally be free of me.
And then—light.
A soft, white glow bloomed at the edge of my vision, so faint I thought it was a trick of my mind. The darkness around me trembled, and the suffocating voices fell silent.
I turned, heart hammering, and froze.
There, at the center of the bridge, stood a girl.
Her long white hair shimmered like spun moonlight, the faint breeze lifting the strands so they danced around her. She wore a flowing white dress, pristine and luminous against the ruin and shadow.
But it was her eyes that held me captive—deep wine-red, glimmering like embers in the dark.
Her gaze cut through me, cold and piercing, yet strangely comforting. A shiver ran down my spine, but for the first time in years… the gnawing pain inside me went quiet.
It was as if the whole world had vanished, leaving only the two of us.
My breaths slowed. The voices stilled. Even my guilt seemed to fade into nothingness.
I stared at her, entranced. She didn't speak. She didn't move. She only looked at me—and somehow, that was enough.
My chest tightened. Warmth rose in my throat, and before I could stop it, a tear slipped free. Then another.
"Why…" I whispered, my voice trembling. "Why… does it started to fade away suddenly?"
For a fleeting moment, I thought maybe this was it—the person, the soul who could finally see me without fear or hate. Someone who could save me from myself.
But then she turned away.
Slowly. Deliberately.
"No…" My voice cracked. "Wait!"
Her bare feet touched the edge of the bridge.
The next heartbeat, she stepped forward—and vanished into the darkness below.
"NO!"
My body moved before my mind could think.
I ran, every muscle screaming, and hurled myself over the edge and jumped after her.
I didn't care about the voices. I didn't care about the pain.
I just knew—I needed her.
The cold night air roared past my ears while falling.
But when I reached out, she wasn't there.
There was only emptiness. I suddenly calmed down and closed my eyes.
"So this is the end of my life" while smiling these words came out my mouth as the cold air touches my face.