Seraphina woke up, barely managing to lift her heavy eyelids. It seemed that a long time had passed since her victorious but suicidal 'children's fight' as it took her quite the effort to remember the events that had occurred before she lost consciousness. By the time her groggy mind gradually cleared, her hand subconsciously reached to her shoulder and forearm where the bite wound left by Ysir, her eldest brother's shadow wolf beast, was at. But, her hand failed to find the long, bumpy, and presumably hideous scar, which she naturally expected. Quite contrarily, her dainty little fingers landed on an incredibly smooth and unblemished surface with no signs of skin trauma or injury, causing her serene eyes to glint with a chilling light for a second.
She blinked her ethereal golden eyes a few times and slowly rose to a sitting position while solemnly observing her surroundings.
It was night, a mute night adorned with a beguiling moon. The silver-cold rays of the moonlight dyed the high-ceilinged bedroom with a distinct beauty of loneliness and seclusion yet failed to drown the grandeur of the place, even in the slightest. The spacious room was gorgeous, to say the least, with a unique air of unexcelled splendor and imposing sovereignty. In fact, any single one of the possessions inside the bedroom could feed a commoner's family of three for a lifetime. Yet, such spectacular opulence and prosperity did not diminish the elegance of the place, none the least.
Regrettably, in the eyes of the little girl, all seemed to be mundane as she threw no more than a fleeting glance around before arising from the bed. Her short white legs landed steadily on the soft rug, and she pitter-pattered towards the heavy door before pushing it open at once.
The mansion was unmistakably her home, the estate of the grand duchy, a place she longed and ached to be at, yet at the moment, there were no joy or delight visible in her shimmering golden eyes.
In the deadly silence of the night, Seraphina made her way to the wast garden with a bone-seeped familiarity. For a homesick wandering girl, such familiarity should have brought her euphoria, but the ominous feeling only intensified.
Seraphina passed the various flowers and trees, which were meticulously taken care of, and reached the densely flowering magnolia black tulip trees before halting her steps completely. As her tiny body stood surrounded by the dark purple goblet-shaped blooms of the magnolia, she was the incarnation of a goddess, descended into the mortal world with a beauty that was simply unworldly. Unfortunately, this soul-stirring picture would only cause heartache to the onlookers as, inside her big doe eyes with upturned ends, there was nothing but dense brewing grief, forming into misty tears. Inside these lovely moist pupils, the visage of two figures, standing face-to-face not far from her, was reflected.
"Indeed, it was a dream," her soft whisper fell, sinking in the gentle breeze that carried the faint fragrance of the dramatic yet noble blooms of the magnolia black tulips.
"Seraphina," a deep, mature, and velvety voice called, causing Seraphina's tiny body to tremble with a shiver.
Hearing this steady gentle voice once again, she shut her mesmerizing eyes tightly in shame, fear, sorrow, and regret, and her tightly clenched little hands turned ghastly white as if to mourn for what was to happen.
"Father," a delicate voice responded.
However, it was not a sweet childish call of a 7-year-old, but an alluring feminine voice of a young woman. Hearing that indefinitely familiar yet outrageously distant voice, the little girl once again opened her eyes, and locked them onto that blazing figure, this time, her gaze still like a deep well.
It was a woman, a beautiful woman with fiery crimson hair and soul-snatching golden irises. Her bewitching figure was clothed in silk and velvet, adorned with priceless treasures and gems, and her enthralling features were far more delicate than the wild roses surrounding them. Unfortunately, despite possessing an appearance of an immortal, the young woman was shrouded in gloom and lacked the vitality of the others of her age. The woman was none other than herself, Seraphina Callenso, but from the previous life.
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Ms. Nine Tailed Fox
Historical FictionI loved a man. Blindly, foolishly, selflessly, pathetically, and sinfully. I changed for a man. From a broken girl who feared even her shadow to a detestable villainess whom everyone cowered before. To give him the world, I took it away from the ot...