Chapter 1

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𓄼 AERYLLAVICIANA 𓄹

Cold. It's freezing. My body shudders at the low temperature that flows in the air. In truth, that's probably not the case.

          I have been weak and fragile all my life. All because of my overflowing mana issue which is the reason why my mother didn't survive childbirth. I have too much to the point her body couldn't withstand it. Neither can I. My heart could burst at any time.

          The occasional needle-like pain that stabs my heart non-stop at a time is starting to get more and more unbearable with each passing day.

          Day by day, I wish my family would hear my cries—no, they probably heard it—I wish they would react to it. Perhaps reach out to me while at that.

          Another pure, innocent and foolish desire of mine, the demon would say.

          My kin, they're cold. And that definitely doesn't help me in surviving the frost that seeps within my body—even though the hot sun is beating down on the land, showering us with the season called summer. And it gets even more unbearable during winter.

          My body, they're filled with humidity. Each and every single fluid that flows within my body is like a torrent of water churning inside me. A harsh one.

          Today is one of those days. One where I’m at my weakest of the month.

          Lying weakly on my bed, I keep on tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position, trying to be less cold. My fingers curl around the hem of the fabric that covers my frame, adjusting its position.

          With every heavy breath I let out, beads of sweat fall from my forehead even in the face of sheer coldness.

          Faint footsteps could be heard behind the closed door. At that, my heart stirs. A part of me is hopeful, expectant at the thought of one of my relatives possibly finally deciding to shower me with their attention.

          Though it doesn't take long for the small smile to be washed off my face when I hear the murmurings. They're probably just passing by, nothing more, nothing less.

          I recognize the voices. One belongs to aunt, another is her son’s.

          Just when I was about to be swallowed by sadness, the door swung open, revealing one of my cousins. He stares down at me with narrowed eyes upon seeing my weakened state.

          “Brother Ian..?” I call out as I attempt to sit up, expectant.

          He runs a hand through his brown locks while he walks towards me. “Looks like you're sick again?”

          I didn't answer. I simply look down at the ground while my fingers clench the blanket I’m holding over my freezing body.

          He lets out an annoyed huff when I don't speak.

          “I know you are but—” he pauses, glancing at me briefly. “But I need someone to go to the bookstore and buy a book for me.”

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