In ancient times demons ruled the world alongside their monstrous beasts. Chaos reigned until the goddess who created both demons and the celestials felt the need to restore balance on Earth.
From this necessity, the Marahashis were created–rare, silver-haired mortals gifted with the power to restore a demon's lost humanity. If demons were darkness and celestials were light then the Marahashis were shadows guiding the demons.
To regain their human-like form, demons consumed different bodily fluid essence that flowed from the Marahashis. Over time this essence enhanced them, making them faster, stronger, lighter and sharpening their senses. But such power came at a cost.
It was highly addictive.
During the Great War between demons and celestials, the demand for Marahashis rose drastically. Demons relied on their light essence to survive and recover, and as more were consumed, fewer pure-blooded Marahashis were born. This imbalance weakened the demon race. In the end, the celestials claimed victory.
The surviving demons scattered across the world, vanishing into obscurity–never to be seen again.
With the celestial gods above, humans upon the earth, demons hidden below, and the fading existence of the Marahashis, the world finally settled into a fragile harmony between these four forces.
However, the creation of pure blooded Marahashis came at a terrible cost; the life force of the primordial Goddess herself.
The Primordial Goddess had perished.
Yet her spirit–the very pulse of life itself–did not fade.
Instead, it wandered the world aimlessly… searching for a soul pure enough to become its vessel.
…
She raised her hands, the thick, metallic scent of blood rising, As she gazed at the silence, a hallway of blood stretched endlessly, each step pulling her forward.
Then, suddenly, she was on a mountain, clinging to a branch as the abyss yawned below. She was hoping it'll consume her did not, instead she was inside a forest with endless rows of white trees, each wrapped in a red thread, then she began running, she didn't know why she was until she reached the end of the forest path.
And there, on an altar, lay her sister, dressed in a white gown, lifeless surrounded by the crimson red hue from her body. She collapsed holding her sister tightly, hands shaking, body trembling. Then her surroundings changed, as if every inch of her world was painted crimson and in the middle was her and her sister's dead body. Gradually she lifted her trembling hands and her sister's blood was dripping from her palm…
As she woke up, she gasped for air. She then sat up abruptly… 3 months. For three months she has been having the same nightmare, it was blurry and longer at first, but now the pieces were finally moving into place, and her nightmares were getting shorter, that could only mean….
She couldn't afford to let her dream fade, grabbing a quill, she dipped it in ink and began writing on the book next to her bed. Her hands trembled, but she knew she had to write- this was a habit she had honed through years of constant nightmares and she knew her nightmares are parts of the future warning her, she began writing quickly so she wouldn't forget a single detail.
Then she let out a sharp whistle.
A pure white falcon descended from the night sky, landing gracefully on her arm.
She rolled the paper tightly and tied it to its leg.
For a moment, she hesitated.
Then she released it.
The falcon spread its wings and disappeared into the darkness.
Half an hour later, the falcon returned.
She took the paper from its leg, hesitating for a moment before slowly unfolding it.
Only three words were written inside:
"STOP THE MARRIAGE."
That was all.
But she already knew what it meant.
And more importantly; She knew what she had to do.