In a mansion engulfed in flames, three young children found themselves trapped. Among them were Alya, a girl, and two boys.
The fiery inferno surrounded them, making escape seemingly impossible. With tears streaming down her face, Alya desperately tried to wake up one of the boys, repeatedly calling out his name.
"JUNGDAE, PLEASE WAKE UP. DON'T LEAVE ME. YOU KNOW I NEED YOU!"
But the blonde haired boy with the golden eyes wouldn't respond. His heartbeat was getting slower with every second that went by. His breathing was heavy and slow. If this keeps going, he would die before help arrived.
Footsteps grew louder, echoing through the tense silence of their predicament. Panic and fear gripped the crowd as people began to shout, their voices carrying the weight of desperation and hopelessness.
But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, a voice rose above the turmoil. It was Alya's, trembling with both anxiety and determination. She called out to Jungdae, her words a plea filled with hope. "Do you hear that, Jungdae? They're coming to save us. Everything will be alright, so please just wake up."
Alya's voice quivered with emotion as she tried to reassure her friend. She knew that in the face of danger and uncertainty, hope was a fragile but essential lifeline. With every fiber of her being, she wanted to believe that salvation was on the horizon, that their ordeal would soon be over.
And as she uttered those words of encouragement, a weak smile found its way onto Alya's face. It was a smile born of resilience, a glimmer of hope in the midst of adversity, a testament to her unwavering determination to see her friend through the darkness and into the light of a better tomorrow.
*Everything will be alright. We're going to survive.*
The third boy hasn't said or done anything yet and seemed oddly calm even despite the fact that the room was burning. His cold blue eyes were staring at the only door that led out of the room that they were trapped in.
"RICHARD, OH THANK GOD WE FOUND YOU!"
Amidst the chaos of the burning room, Alya's and Richard's mother burst into view. Her frantic eyes scanned the scene, seeking her children amidst the smoke and flames.
"Come take my hand,"
she cried out, her voice filled with relief and desperation.
"Oh god, my baby, I'm so glad that you're okay."
She reached out, her trembling hand extending toward Richard, urging him to join her in escape. With a sense of urgency, she grabbed his hand tightly, their fingers locking as she began to lead him away from the raging inferno.
Alya, watching this desperate escape unfold, was overcome with bewilderment and a growing sense of panic. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her mind raced with a torrent of questions.
*What...? Why is she leaving?*
Her eyes darted around, scanning for a reason, but the answer eluded her.
*Didn't she see us? Why?... Why?! WHY?*
Alya's complexion turned pallid as tears welled up once more, streaming down her cheeks. Desperation clawed at her, and she couldn't fathom the abandonment that seemed to be unfolding before her eyes.
"No, no, no..."
she sobbed, her voice trembling with fear and anguish.
"I don't want to die. Not like this. NO! PLEASE HELP ME. JUST THIS ONCE. WHY, WHY ME?"
Her words were a desperate plea to anyone who would listen, a cry for salvation in the face of impending doom. The relentless flames closed in around her, and Alya felt the suffocating grip of despair tightening as she struggled to make sense of the unfolding tragedy.
Alya's hands trembled uncontrollably, her fingers quivering with fear and despair. The once-golden glow of her eyes, which had always been filled with life and vigor, had dimmed to a lifeless, muted shade. She couldn't bear the overwhelming sense of abandonment that had washed over her, and her strength gave way beneath the weight of it all.
Falling to her knees amidst the fiery chaos, Alya began to pray, her voice a desperate plea for a second chance, for a glimmer of hope in the face of imminent danger. She begged for salvation, for some benevolent force to intervene and rescue her from this living nightmare.
And, against all odds, her prayers seemed to be answered. A gentle, soothing voice spoke in Alya's head, a presence that felt like a lifeline in the midst of the inferno.
"Oh my, you poor thing,"
the voice sympathized.
"Your family left you and your friend to die. What a poor soul."
Alya's eyes darted around the room in panic, searching for the source of the voice that had addressed her. But amidst the roaring flames and the encroaching smoke, there was nothing to be seen but the relentless fire that threatened to consume everything in its path.
Confusion and disbelief mingled with her fear, leaving Alya with a sense of both gratitude and apprehension. She had received a lifeline, but it had come from an unknown source, an unseen presence that seemed to defy the laws of the physical world. As she continued to scan the room, her heart pounding in her chest, she couldn't help but wonder who or what had come to her aid in this dire moment.
"Wh-who are you?" Alya stammered, her voice quivering with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
In response, a loud and unsettling laugh echoed through the room, sending shivers down Alya's spine.
"You're asking the wrong question, darling," came the enigmatic reply.
As the voice continued to taunt her, the source of the sound gradually materialized before her. The woman, who had remained hidden in the shadows until now, revealed herself and stood before Alya and Jungdae. Her presence was otherworldly, her demeanor both alluring and foreboding.
"Pleased to meet you,"
she said, her voice dripping with an unsettling charm.
"The name's Gwisin, and I am here to form a pact with you."
Alya's heart raced as she met the gaze of this mysterious figure, whose arrival had brought with it a sense of both fascination and trepidation. The proposition of a pact hung in the air, a decision that would undoubtedly alter the course of her life in ways she couldn't yet fathom.
Gwisin's red eyes seemed to bore into Alya's soul, her malevolent gaze sending shivers down her spine. The evil grin that twisted her lips cast an unsettling shadow over her features, and Alya couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of dread.
*What? A pact? I can't do that, no, never.*
Alya thought, her mind racing with the implications of such a proposition.
"Can't you see I'm a saintess?"
Alya exclaimed, her voice trembling but resolute.
"Why would I ever form a pact with you?"
The smile on Gwisin's face faded, replaced by a look of anger and menace that sent a chill through the room. Her once-charming demeanor had given way to a threatening aura that hung heavily in the air. Alya's refusal had clearly ignited something within Gwisin, something darker and more foreboding than Alya could have ever imagined.
"Because he's about to die."
She pointed at the pale Jungdae whose heartbeat was getting slower and slower. Alya's eyes widened and she wanted to respond but she knew well that the woman was speaking the truth.
"And you will soon die too if you stay in these flames. Don't you want to live? Don't you want to save your beloved friend?"
Alya was panicking.
*Of course I want to live. But…I can't do that. I can never form a pact with a demon.*
"Don't you want to take revenge?" Gwisin's words hung in the air like a sinister whisper, and Alya's eyes widened as if awakening a dormant force within her.
Revenge...?
A rush of memories flooded Alya's mind, a torrent of images that played like a relentless slideshow. She saw the faces of her family, etched with cruelty and indifference, their actions a testament to the suffering she had endured. The vivid recollection of her mother leaving her in that burning room, seemingly to die, fueled a sudden, seething hatred that coursed through her veins.
The transition was almost imperceptible, but Alya could feel something changing within her, as if Gwisin's words had the power to bend her thoughts and emotions to her will. The notion of revenge, once distant and abstract, now seemed like a burning desire, a driving force that eclipsed all else.
Gwisin's influence was undeniable, her words a hypnotic incantation that had awakened a long-dormant darkness within Alya's heart. It was a transformation that Alya could neither fully understand nor resist, and it left her teetering on the precipice of a fateful decision that would change the course of her destiny.
"I…I want to survive…"
Alya's voice wavered, her admission a whispered plea in the face of impending danger.
The smile on Gwisin's face returned, but it held a sinister quality, as if it concealed hidden intentions and secrets.
"Very good," Gwisin purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction.
But Alya's confession didn't end there, for beneath her fear and desperation, a darker desire began to emerge, fueled by the promise of revenge that Gwisin had planted. Her words tumbled forth, laced with a chilling determination.
"And make them suffer for what they did."
As the words left her lips, a psychotic smile twisted across Gwisin's face. Her amusement was palpable, a sinister joy at the darkness that had taken root within Alya's heart. It was a pact forged in the depths of despair, and it seemed to seal Alya's fate in ways she could never have imagined.
"Take my hand."
Gwisin's voice was both commanding and seductive as she extended her hand toward Alya, her long fingers outstretched in a gesture of invitation.
Without hesitation, Alya reached for the demon's hand. Their fingers met, and in that instant, it felt as though time itself had come to a standstill. The world around them faded into a distant blur, leaving only the two of them in a surreal void. Gwisin's once-intimidating red eyes now glowed with an eerie intensity, capturing Alya's gaze with their hypnotic radiance.
"I, Gwisin,"
the demon began, her voice resonating through the empty space,
"will grant you my power and help you and your friend in exchange for your soul. Do you agree?"
Alya's throat felt dry, and she swallowed hard as the weight of the decision bore down on her. She knew the implications of this pact, the darkness she was willingly embracing. But in this dire moment, with the life of her friend hanging in the balance, she had no other choice.
"I, Alya,"
she replied, her voice steady but tinged with the weight of her sacrifice,
"saintess of the Whitmore Empire, agree to form a pact with you in exchange for my soul."
With those words, the pact was sealed, and Alya's fate intertwined with Gwisin's in ways that would shape the course of their destinies in profound and unforeseen ways.
Suddenly, as if a veil had descended upon her, everything around Alya went black. Her senses dulled, and a profound sense of disorientation overcame her. The world seemed to slip away, and Alya lost consciousness.
When Alya regained awareness, she found herself standing in front of her dressing table. The room was abuzz with activity as maids bustled about, their movements precise and efficient as they prepared dresses, makeup, and accessories for Alya. The air was filled with the faint scent of perfumes and the rustling of fabrics.
Alya's heart sank as she recognized the significance of this day. It was the crown prince's birthday, a day forever etched in her memory as the catalyst for a series of tragic events. It was the day when everything had unraveled, the day when her world had been torn apart because of Elise, her long lost sister.
"Lady Alya, would you prefer one of these dresses, or shall we procure new ones?"
Her personal maid, a trusted figure who had served her for years, gestured towards three plain dresses. These were the kind of dresses that Alya would typically choose, as she had never favored drawing too much attention to herself. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have been content with one of them.
However, today was different, far from ordinary. The memory of the past and the weight of her choices bore heavily upon her. She glanced at the dresses, her thoughts conflicted.
"Why don't we opt for something more captivating today?"
Alya finally spoke, her voice carrying a hint of resolve.
"After all, it is the crown prince's birthday, isn't it?"
The decision to choose a more attention-grabbing attire was a subtle departure from her usual preference for understated elegance. It signaled her willingness to embrace the significance of the day, even as it stirred memories of the events that had unfolded on previous birthdays.
The maids were visibly taken aback by Alya's sudden change in behavior, but they didn't dare to voice any objections. Filled with anticipation, they eagerly began searching for alternative dresses.
After spending hours meticulously preparing, Alya was finally ready to make her entrance. She stood before the mirror, her reflection a vision of ethereal beauty. The dress she wore was nothing short of breathtaking, a masterpiece of design and craftsmanship.
Her gown was a dazzling combination of golden and white, the two colors blending seamlessly to create a look of regal elegance. The bodice was adorned with intricate golden embroidery, delicate patterns that seemed to shimmer in the light. The skirt billowed out in layers of white silk, each tier cascading gracefully to the floor.
Alya couldn't help but be struck by her own stunning beauty. The gown accentuated her figure, enhancing her natural grace and poise. Her white hair, styled in an intricate updo, was adorned with golden pins that sparkled like stars in the night sky.
"Wow..."
Alya had never considered herself ugly but she could never have envisioned looking as incredible as she does in that moment.
"You look absolutely enchanting, M'lady,"
a maid of Alya's age exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with admiration. Alya responded with a gentle smile.
"Thank you all for your dedicated efforts,"
she expressed, acknowledging the hard work of the maids.
Blushing and flustered, the maids exchanged whispers as Alya gracefully exited the room.
"She is a true goddess."
"Such a kind-hearted lady."
"What could have prompted such a sudden change? Could she be an angel in disguise?"
Alya had never been impolite to the maids, but she had also never expressed gratitude towards them before. She had never exchanged a single word with them, but now she even takes the time to thank them.
Alya, the daughter of the emperor, was an illegitimate child. Her father had an affair with a maid of low status, who was executed upon his wife's discovery. Despite the emperor's decision to bring Alya into his care, he never spared a glance for her, treating her as if she were insignificant.
At the age of 10, Alya was blessed by the gods and became a Saintess, possessing a strong holy power. However, even after achieving such a remarkable feat, her family continued to despise her.
On her brothers birthday, the long-lost daughter, Elise, of the emperor and his wife returned. Everyone embraced and adored the newfound sister, and even Alya found herself developing an affinity towards her.
But it was not mutual. Elise saw Alya as her rival rather than her sister. She did her best to make Alya's life even more miserable. Accusing her of bullying her and destroying her dresses.
Soon her father did not only ignore her but also treated her like a servant. The only time she would be treated nicely was on holy festivals where she went to the commoners to heal and bless them.
*God, snap out of it Alya. Now is not the time to sink into self-pity. Now put on a pretty face and go congratulate your "beloved" brother.*
With a determination burning in her heart, Alya made her way to the ballroom, her steps purposeful and resolute. She was prepared to confront her past and seek revenge for the pain and suffering she had endured.