Years Ago
The sound of music drifted through the air like silk, weaving itself into the laughter and chatter of nobles. The realm of Magic shimmered under a starry sky, and at its heart, the royal castle gleamed the brightest. Tonight was a night of celebration—the marriage of Princess Aria, heir to the Magic Realm, and her beloved Ivan.
The grand hall was ethereal, bathed in golden light from floating lanterns, the marble floor shining like a mirror. At the centre, Amira—the youngest sister of Aria—moved gracefully, her dance enchanting every guest. Her dark hair swayed with each step, her crimson gown blooming like fire in the candlelight.
Aria smiled as she held Ivan's hand. The ceremony was moments away. The orchestra's final hymn began to fade, the music softening to silence.
That was when Amira's dance slowed. Her expression turned unreadable.
From within her sleeve, she revealed a slender blade.
Before anyone could react, she drove the knife deep into her chest.
The hall froze. Gasps rang out as the joyous light of the celebration shattered into horror. Scarlet blood spilled across the shining floor, staining its reflection.
Present Day
Blood spread across the floor once again. This time, not in a hall of light, but in the forgotten ruins beneath the Normal Realm.
Seul's eyes widened in shock as a phantom pain pierced his stomach. He collapsed, his breath stolen, his hand trembling over the wound.
"Seul! SEUL!" voices cried, echoing in the dark.
The ruins spun around him. The last thing he saw was the crimson stain spreading beneath his body before the world tilted into black.
One Day Earlier
"Seul! Get up or you'll be late!"
A soft, familiar voice pierced through his drowsy haze, followed by the sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden door.
Seul groaned, rubbing his eyes as the morning sunlight leaked into his room through thin curtains. He sat up slowly, hair messy, expression dull.
"…Coming," he muttered, his tone edged with irritation.
Dragging the blanket back over his head, he whispered into the fabric,
"I don't wanna go… aaah…"
For a moment, he just lay there, face buried, an annoyed grimace twisting his lips. Then, with a long sigh of resignation, he sat up again, scratching the back of his neck.
He shuffled to the window, tugging it open slightly. Reaching for a pair of old binoculars resting on his desk, he peered across the street at the house opposite his.
The blinds were half-open. A messy bed came into focus—blankets tossed aside, pillows on the floor. But, as usual, the occupant was already gone.
"Early as usual…" Seul mumbled, lowering the binoculars.
He stretched his arms lazily, bones cracking faintly, then trudged toward the washroom, shoulders slouched like the weight of the day was already pressing down on him