𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐈𝐬 𝐍𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭

The Flame That Never Dies

You don't know what it was about her that made you want to kill her.

She was such a beautiful and radiant girl, like a single star in the vast black sky. With a wide smile that could even attract monsters like you, your younger sister was somebody you despised more than yourself. Is it even possible to hate someone as much as you admire them? Can it even be called admiration? Would a wise man call it envy? Is it envy if you hated her with a burning passion? Is it envy if seeing her with that smile angered you so desolately?

Maybe so.

For the entirety that she had spent in the duchy, you lived in her shadow. 'This is who you should be!' That was the invisible sign hanging obnoxiously above her, reminding every woman around her of how truly unworthy she was. But then again, it could've been just for you. With Mother's critical gaze, the duke's uninterested stare, and the hostile abyss they called home, a girl would be bound to lose her mind.

It would only be natural, right?

To have to wake up to that horror?

Live it every single day?

You aren't at fault for what you had done. If everybody had seen life from your point of view, then they all would've understood. They would've known that every time you saw Ophelia's smile, your blood boiled, and your skin itched with a burning need to tear at everything. Everytime you heard her laugh, your eyes would widen, and your ears began ringing the same tune that would replay endlessly in your head. Her very being set your heart into a fury, so you grabbed that knife, and you stuck it into her for every time she smiled and every time she laughed!

...

It isn't your fault.

... No.

It is.

So why are you back about a week and a half before your sister had first been discovered?

It's December twelve as your scrutinizing eyes read through the newspaper in your hand like your life depends on it. That's because it does. Your office is cold and dark. Just like how it's been for the entire week since you've started packing your things up. The black and white painting of your mother that was hung up on the wall to the right of your desk has now been put away. The same rug laid out in front of your desk has been set out to the ports for shipping. And that mirror... that oval-shaped mirror once set up in front of you isn't there anymore to curse at your face. And the window that's open lets the cold and fiery wind flow inside while snow hails from the sky furiously with an angry passion.

You sigh and take off your glasses to rub the bridge of your nose.

So this is how it is, huh?

Even after your execution and death, God still has found a way to play with your life like it's a mere toy. Is this his punishment? Is you relieving all of this horror again just for the fun of it? Of course, the damned newspaper in your hand only solidifies your unwanted suspicions.

"Lost daughter of Duke Castillano finally found?"

This is the first title of the main article in the most famous newspaper in all of Aragon called, 'the Gazelle.' It states that two weeks ago, sightings of elves had been reported to Aragon's Imperial mages, who sent out a research party for confirmation. Only two days later, an elf had been found. Her name is Ophelia⏤a beautiful elven girl with silky, silver-like locs of hair and alluring forest green eyes. Details haven't been released to the public about how the duke had even thought of the possibility of this elf girl being his daughter, but everyone knows that she truly is legitimate after the church released the positive test results of her lineage.

She's set to return to her true home, the Castillano duchy, a week before christmas.

Hm. it's funny that the very first tragedy of your life occurred on the same day Gosh, you truly hate ophelia. Such is the effect she has on you.

You stand up and open the door to the balcony. Walking outside, the cold hits you like a ferocious wave, but all you do is cross your arms and look ahead at this town⏤this world that you've built. What have you regressed again for? Clearly, it's for something because punishments like these don't just happen on a common occasion. God certainly does want something from you, doesn't he?

Well, you've got nothing to lose.

And if you're going to die as the villain, you'll make sure to drag everybody down to hell with you like a villain.

⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤

an : first fic published on wattpad?? whaaaat