Prologue

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Guess who's back,

Dressed in black,

Come to take her soul back.

In ancient Greece, long before the era of Shinigami, there was a time when witches and humans lived in peace. Granted, there was always a boundary of uncertainty that separated these mysterious enchantresses from the common folk; but they were respected none the less. The world rejoiced in a state of warm complacency.

It was in the smaller villages that ignorance lead to fear and hate. Pandora often found herself at the receiving end of such ignorance. Her pink hair and heritage marked her birth as a bad omen. The town did their best to avoid her, not wanting to deal with any bad luck that might befall them should they speak with her. Only one person in the whole village paid her any mind, Persephone.

Persephone was unlike Pandora in many ways. Still, to the bewilderment to the village, she reached out to Pandora and tried to teach how to welcome the many beautiful things of the world. Such a positive outlook was rare, for the throne of the Underworld was due to change hands at any moment. The western cities jumped at the chance to take hold of as many villages as possible. The villagers feared that theirs would become yet another conquest. In an effort to calm their fears Persephone volunteered to talk with the reigning lord of the underworld and prove that Marvo would be safe. None begged her to stay more than Pandora, whose reputation hung on the fate of the village. Still Persephone set forth, leaving her friend defenseless among the narrow-minded villagers. That afternoon Pandora wept under the branches of an old oak tree.

"Such a pretty girl should not be crying in the woods alone." She turned and saw a cloaked boy holding a strange box. Her, beautiful? She was a disgracefully frail shell of a person; dark circles were permanently a part of her blemished features, and her eyes, an eerie shade of purple.

"W-who are you?" She sniffed, "I've never seen you around here before."

"My name is... unimportant." He said with a slight smirk.

"Th-that's s-strange." She said as she leaned further into the roots.

"I'm a traveling lord," He explained, "and couldn't help but see you were crying." He crouched down to her level, his black irises danced with an inhuman mirth. "What could have made you so unhappy?"

"My friend went to talk with Lord Odin about the safety of our village and I have a sinking feeling that she won't return. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen to me." Tears began to flow down her face again. "I don't have anyone else here." The lord frowned and glanced down at the box he held in his hand, then held it out to her.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked. The box he held in his hands was made of polished sulfur, with twisted bone to line its edges of the box.

"A box." She said, recoiling at the sight.

"Not just any box." He said placing it in her hands. "This box will grant your deepest desire."

"But I don't have any-"

"Think of it as a gift. A word of caution, in order to grant your wish, the box must take something equal in value. So don't open it unless you really need it." Pandora glanced up to protest once more, but the boy was gone. All that remained was the bone and sulfur box that lay in her hands.

He says come,

Let's have some fun,

Open the box, the game's begun.

Pandora couldn't bear to leave the box behind. As the days turned to into months, Persephone did not return. The villagers blamed Pandora, claiming that she bewitched the girl into running off. Despite her pleas, Pandora stayed the enemy in their eyes. When news of an invasion from the west came, she finally was at her wits end. She no longer knew how to deal with the angry people that surrounded her life. After a particularly cruel day she trudged to her room and looked down at the box. Mud dripped from her clothes as she reached for the lid. Anything had to be better than the treatment she faced day to day. Carefully she threw open the lid.

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