Nagtama ang paningin nila ng babaeng katabi ng lalaking may dalang pana. She couldn't see any emotions in the woman's eyes. She was staring at her intently. At kahit na katiting na awa ay wala siyang nakita.

She gathered all her remaining strength and stood up. "Mom... help me."

Paika-ika siyang naglakad sa direksiyon ng kaniyang ina. Her eyes were pleading, full of tears that hindered her vision. Inabot niya ang kamay sa harapan.

"Mom..." she cried.

A glint of hope flashed through the girl's face as her mother walked towards her. Nagkaroon siya ng kaunting pag-asa. Na sana'y ipagtanggol siya ng kanyang ina.

The woman stopped right in front of her daughter. The girl was about to reach her mother's hand when a cold palm met her face.

"You are no daughter of mine," the woman said. Sharp, cold, and empty.

Hindi makapaniwalang tinitigan niya ang kanyang ina. Her face was burning in pain. Ramdam na ramdam niya ang hapdi sa pisngi mula sa sampal ng kanyang ina.

Her world just shut down in an instant. Thinking about what is wrong with her, was it her huge wings? Her black eyes? Her weirdness?

Am I a monster? A freak? A real child of a demon?

These questions were crowding her mind. Pakiramdam niya ay tinalikuran siya ng lahat. Tinalikuran siya ng pamilya niya na akala niya ay kanyang kakampi. The pain in her very core was beyond painful than her mother's slap.

It was the fact that her family had given up on her. The most painful feeling she had ever felt in her entire existence  — painful more than anything.

"Mom... please," she pleaded.

Walang reaksyon ang kanyang ina. Nanatili lamang itong nakatitig sa kanya at walang bahid na kahit anong emosyon ang mukha.

"You're a monster... " the woman said and walked away, not giving her a single glance.

"Anak..."

Napalingon siya sa baritonong boses. She felt her chest thudding in an unusual way. She could hear it, clear as crystal.

"Dad!" She rushed to her father's direction and clung onto his broad shoulders. "Help me, please."

She, again, started sobbing. Getting louder than usual. Hoping that her father would spare her life. Ang tanging kinakapitan niya.

Niyakap siya ng ama at marahang hinaplos ang likuran. "My child... please, understand."

Nabitawan ng batang babae ang kanyang ama sa narinig. She couldn't believe it. Was her father brainwashed? Why can't he fight for her? Sa lahat ng taong pwedeng sumuko sa kanya, bakit pamilya niya pa?

Her knees weakened. She fell unto the ground and unable to speak. Her world just crumbled into pieces. She lost everything.

Pinunasan niya ng mariin ang kanyang mga luha at tumingala sa kanyang ama at ina. Matiim niya itong tinitigan.

"Why?" she muttered through gritted teeth. "Mom, dad, why?"

Both of her parents fell silent, and the silence was killing her. It was torture for her.

But surprisingly, she did not shed tears. Not anymore. She felt drained and empty, with no room for any feelings. Feelings that were taken away by her parents when they shoved her to death's needlepoint.

Tumalikod ang kanyang mga magulang at naglakad ilang metro ang layo mula sa kinaroroonan niya.

Not a minute had passed, a man joined her parents. He was a thick looking man wearing a plum knee-length robe with ash grey hair, emerald green eyes, and messy thick eyebrows. His nose was pointy but quite crooked. He looks like a middle-aged man, as the little girl suspected.

Isang nakakakilabot na ngisi ang ibinigay nito sa batang babae, pero hindi ito natinag. Walang emosyon niyang tinitigan ang lalaki.

"Ikaw ba ang papatay sa 'kin?" said the girl in a deep voice. Deeper than she had ever spoken.

She scanned the man's face with no fear ever creeping her body. There was a slight cut on the man's neck that looked like a hundred-year-old scar but was still visible to her eyes.

The little girl lowered her gaze as the man held up a bow and aimed an arrow towards her. She clenched her fist once again. She's ready to face death... to welcome death.

She closed her eyes as she heard her father's weep, chanting her name over and over again. A light smile formed on her lips and blurry images of her childhood flashed through her mind. A memory she will now choose to forget.

She gulped and bit her lip as she felt an excruciating feeling right in her chest. A tear fell through her cheek. The warm liquid she will no longer feel after death. The pain was killing her. Her father's weep became as low as a baby's whisper. She felt drowsy... She wants to sleep.

And she did.

On that day, lying underneath the broad daylight, a girl named Aurora died. And as her name symbolizes dawn, the rise from darkness.

She, too, swore to rise from the dead.

Curse of the Fallen Deity (Zarsothian Tales #1 | Volume 1 & 2)Où les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant