Why have I chosen to suffer? One might wonder.
Why did Sera of Blood Denegis rush to marry? One might ask oneself.
Why have I not spent the last of days with my family who always loved me? Nobody knows.
Not even me.
"You fucking bitch," broken ceramic echoed across the great hall of Blood Seraph.
Several people were at a marble table, waiting for the food to be served.
On the corner of the table stood a lone woman, a beautiful woman with black hair and dark gray eyes.
The eldest daughter of Blood Denegis, Sera, who, at that point in time, was removing pieces of meat from her dress.
A daily occurrence for her to have an entire plate thrown in her direction by her most loving fiancé, who, despite his charming looks, was as aggressive as a rabid fox.
Her fiancé, the heir of Blood Seraph, Aidan Seraph.
"You are as useless as you are ugly," Aidan hissed, "You cannot even eat your food properly."
Nobody was batting an eye at his antics, not even his mother, the Matriarch of Blood Seraph, Fiamma, who was focused on the food on her plate, ignoring the attitude of her uncontrolled son.
"I apologize, my lord," Sera bowed lightly, "I choked on a piece of bread, that is all."
"That is all, you say?" Aidan asked, his threatening horns making the boy seem taller than he really was, "We did a service to Blood Denegis to take you off their hands, I see that clearly now."
Sera remained unfazed, obedient, as she bowed once more, hoping this would calm the beast down, "For which I am forever grateful, my lord."
"Hm," Aidan scoffed, sitting back down on his chair.
But inside Sera's mind, she cursed and yelled yet again.
She cursed the day when her father asked if she wished to marry this dog.
She cursed the energetic nod she gave and the grin she had while her father wrote the letter.
She cursed the hopelessness she felt when she heard that Blood Seraph intended to betray her Blood and not attend the battle that followed.
And she blamed them for the defeat Blood Denegis has suffered.
She expected to be killed by them, tortured, or at least beaten.
Yet, besides shaming her daily, nothing else happened.
She did not understand her situation, nor did she really care anymore.
Over this last month, since she got engaged, there have been at least four attempts she has made at taking her own life.
All were unsuccessful.
Not because she chose a harder way to attempt to take her life, but because, right as she was about to do it, she was always afraid of death.
Of the certainty of it.
She wanted to cut open her own neck, but as the blade sat on her skin, her hands began to tremble, her heart to pound, her mind to tell her memories of old, when such things were impossibilities.
She remembered a time when her younger brother, Blanc, climbed a tree in the garden of their birth mother and picked pears for themselves.
She remembered the taste of the fruit and how they watched the sunset while eating them.
By the Vita Herself, it was beautiful.
She then remembered the night the twins were born, Kael and Lune, and how she cried watching their small bodies, and how cute they looked.
The knife would not only cut off her neck, but also the memories she cherished.
So she gave up.
And attempt after attempt, she failed every time to go through with it.
But perhaps this night she would succeed.
With that in mind, she rose from her seat, bowed, and bid a good night to all present as she returned to the room they held her in.
It was on the third floor of the giant mansion, and the view from her window was spectacular.
Not far from the mansion, an active volcano spat flaming rocks from time to time, sending them far into the distance.
She got used to the heat of the Domain; it was pleasing even as she opened the window and looked down upon the drop to the ground.
Thirty feet between her and the pavement.
Hopefully lethal, she thought as she sighed.
She was so tired of everything, of not knowing what the Vita held in store for her, or what happened with her family.
She blamed herself in some way for their downfall and ultimate defeat.
And she could not hold on to memories any longer.
She cherished them like a tree cherishes its fruit, but the fruit is no sustenance for the tree to grow with by consuming it.
She walked on the edge of the window, balancing on a few inches of hardwood as she stared at the magnificent view in front of her.
It was glorious.
Perhaps, someday, the events of today will be written down, and a painter will immortalize the sight she witnessed, never to be forgotten, unlike her, who was about to walk into the embrace of the Vita.
She inhaled deeply, her lungs pushing her chest forward and backward as she exhaled.
She closed her eyes for a few moments and prayed.
Prayed for all her loved ones to be alive and well.
For them to grow old and live happy lives, free of the agony she felt.
She then prayed for her younger brother, Blanc.
Her handsome, and annoying, younger brother. Blood of her blood, flesh of her flesh.
Oh, how she wished to see him right now, before the end of all ends.
But the Vita is not so graceful.
She opened her eyes one more time, watching, waiting, hoping that a gust of wind would make this easier for her.
But the Vita is not so graceful.
Her body was shaking, her heart screaming, her mind trying to bribe her body to give up and go back inside.
Was it too late to hope? A voice in her head wondered. A day longer, a week longer, and maybe things will get better. Maybe something will happen that will give me the reason to live.
What could such a thing be? What could offer her the will to live when she had none left?
A memory of a younger Blanc surfaced in the depths of her mind.
He was sitting on a chair, before the birth of Lune and Kael, looking at the dead body of their grandpa, who had passed earlier in the week from an apparent suicide.
Many were crying, grieving, but not Blanc.
He turned to his right, watching her silently.
"What?" the voice of a younger Sera asked Blanc, her voice echoing in her head.
"Promise me, Sera, promise me that you will never do such a thing," Blanc muttered, tears welling in his eyes.
"What is wrong with you, Blanc?" the young Sera asked, looking into his young gray eyes, "And leave you all alone? Never."
"Promise?" Blanc asked.
"I promise," Sera replied, back in her room, crying, "I promise, little brother, I will not leave you alone."