The Bride In Red

Naeris was born from a curse-a desperate plea whispered in the halls of a god who never grants favors without taking something in return. Her mother, cursed with infertility, begged Luceris, the god of debt, creation, and sacrifice, for a child to keep her husband from straying. He granted her wish, but with a price: the firstborn will be his the moment she surrenders to his will.

Naeris lived a life of suffering, never truly belonging to herself. The streets were cruel, the hands of men crueler. But when she found love in the arms of a woman, the god who had been watching her since birth finally stirred. Love was not meant for her. Not unless it was his.

The voices came first. Then the shadows. Whispers slithered into her skull, her reflection no longer her own. The villagers saw her unravel-saw the wildness in her eyes, the taint in her touch. They called her the Woman in Red, a cursed thing, a defiler, a monster. When they bound her, when they threw her to the fire, they believed they were purging evil.

But the god in the light did not weep-he smiled.

As the flames devoured her, Luceris reached into the abyss and pulled her back. Not as a woman. Not as a mortal. But as something else. A creation of his own making. A bride forged in agony, bound in devotion, and twisted beyond recognition.

Naeris was dead. But what rose from the ashes was far worse.