An Empty Heart

Far from the town of Maesta, on the other side of the Cardinals, specifically in the South Cardinal, stood a grand noble house. To call them grand was to be ignorant of just how much power they wielded in a city as large as an entire world.

And they alone wielded all the might in the South of Astrea.

After all, they were the sovereign rulers of their Cardinal.

The Southern Dukedom

What was once a land of springs and fulfillment was now laden with the heavy oppression of sorrow and death. Countless lives had been lost to the relentless onslaught of the Lurker's children.

They filled the streets as they broke into homes, slaughtering and culling the numbers.

Yet, even as many died in the jaws of abominations lurking in the darkness, the only sounds that filled the air were screams of despair and terror. The people struggled to hold off the tides from hell, waiting and praying that the Cardinal Duchess would send help.

But their pleas fell on deaf ears.

Atop many structures stood figures covered in crimson shades of skin that were more like the hues of the setting sun. A mix between deep red and faintly healthy pinks.

Each held lanterns that struggled to illuminate even a few feet around them. Within these lanterns, one could hear the fluttering of glass fragments clinked together, producing soft chimes—melodies that, in other times, might have soothed the soul. But now, they played against the backdrop of bodies being torn apart, limb by limb. Blending within the sickening sizzles of torn flesh and maddening wails of horror and despair.

A soft, dusky glow illuminated the cold and expressionless faces of the watchers, giving way to their ethereal beauty.

Not so much as a ripple of emotion passed through their deep blue eyes as they regarded the slaughter below.

The carnage wrought by the surge had been anything but light, yet it had nothing to do with them. When the Cardinal Duchess orders, all knees must fall.

And so they stood and watched, unmoving, as men, women, and children were ripped apart, their screams piercing through the raining haze of darkness. They did nothing; They showed nothing; They said nothing.

Only the rising and falling of their chests showed that they were not sculptures but beings made of flesh and bone.

The surge continued, unnoticed by their indifference.

Their role was in what would come after.

-------

Yet deep beneath the chaos of slaughter and horror, underneath the structures above, hidden away from the rest of the world.

A magnificent scene was taking place, untouched by the sorrow of the world above.

Soft music played in the background, having no clear origin, as though the world itself were playing a melody to which a young woman barely the age of sixteen moved.

Her feet twirled in patterns akin to falling petals, her flowing robes tracing graceful arcs along the ceramic floor beneath her bare feet.

Her skin, a deep shade of warm ruby, gleamed with an otherwordly glow—an ethereal and alluring mix of pinks and rubies, lightened by her mixed heritage.

Her hair fell like midnight, dark like the darkness that shrouded her. Yet, at times, faint red-pink embers would flicker through the strands, giving light to her vicinity; they would sway with the unseen tunes materialized in drifting mists of pink.

The notes wove through the air, flowing alongside her movements. Her eyes remained shut, and her lips were stitched closed with golden thread. The same threads sealed her ears, denying the distraction of the chaos above.

Her face, the epitome of youthful allure, bore a beauty so perfect it seemed artificial, yet that was her, her natural state. High cheekbones, delicate yet defined features, and a small, rabbit-like charm made her mesmerizing to behold, but her expression was cold, colder than the winds winds that howled with death above

Even as the distant clanking of chains might have left others defeaned, she never faltered. Even as the wind whispered despair into her sealed ears, she did not stamble. Her steps remained elegant, carving delicate arcs around the vast underground hall, each one hinting at unfathomable depths.

It was a sight for the ages.

Yet despite the beauty of the scene, one would see that even as she seemed oblivious to the world above, there was a silent truth that was as plain as daylight.

Tears.

Silent, crimson tears bled from her closed eyes, dripping onto the floor with soft chimes, almost afraid of alerting the presence next to her.

But clearly that had failed.

"Tsk....."

A cold, beautiful voice rang out, making the winds of music falter. Her rythme broke as she lost her footing.

"You disappoint me, girl."

The voice was sweet as honey, and if you knew honey, you would know how quickly that sweetness would turn sickening. It was laced with venom, so chilling that it would make one shiver in existential cold.

"It seems that you will fail to gain our family's legacy come your awakening. Seeing as how you have the nerve to be distracted at such a moment."

The voice paused. 

Then, a scornful chuckle was born.

"But what should I have expected from a girl like you? huh Worthless to the bone, a good-for-nothing failure of a bloodline"

"Your only redeeming quality is the beauty you have. But my dear, beauty will only serve you right when you become a breeding cow for those worthless nobless greedy for the Southern bloodline."

The girl did not flinch. Not even as her mother's cruel words pierced her fragile yet empty heart.

To show reaction was to earn even more ire from her.

As a daughter, she had once sought the love of her mother, but all she ever received was an empty heart—one filled with nothing but fear. So she chose to close her heart to the world, to never feel again.

Yet today, she could not do it.

She could not shut out their screams that seemed to transcend all physical laws; their voices clawed desperately for life or at least the mercy of a quick death.

They struggled to breathe and see the warmth of the new dawn that would never come.

Because her mother, the Great South Cardinal Duchess, had passed her judgment.

And so they would die. So that others would breathe another day.

Some might say that it was a ruler's burden—to make harsh decisions, to sacrifice the few so that many would live.

But she knew the truth...

This world was far darker than any would ever come to realize, even as they took their last breath.

And she, a sixteen-year-old girl, was expected to grow, to inherit that darkness, to carry its weight and foul corruption. To continue the bloodline—like all of this was just another moment in time.

If only she could steel her heart, then perhaps she could live her life without this burden.

But no.

Even her heart was not hers to control. Just as her life and her future were in the hands of the most powerful woman in the Four Cardinals.

This life of hers, the life of Irina Castel Southflame, was never hers to begin with.

And so she would dance.

She would dance like the obedient little girl her mother had always demanded her to be.

She would dance until all life faded from her body.

For that was the price she had to pay for bearing the blood of the Southern Flame.

The Diearch's mercy.