"The light relishes the darkness, but it is oblivious to the purpose of its meal."
The city of Blard is a true technological marvel that is erected on the windward side of a pleasant land. The verdant, fertile fields that serve as its backing complement its beauty and have helped mould the city into the place it is now.
The cityscape is expanding as a result of the elegant towers that have crowded its skyline, and each one appears to change with the times without compromising the integrity of its past.
And even while many people may enjoy living in the city, they will always be plagued by things—things that others may or may not believe in.
"What? Has the time already arrived for me? I don't see my reflection; No, no, there must be a way to undo this. "
Living amidst a spiral of chaos, Leonell always treads the line between reality and dreams.
While in dreaming, he habitually steals and robs others since it is a task entrusted to him by his deity and while awake, he utilises those taken things to carry out the desires of his family, unconscious of how he obtained them.
But, no matter how virtuous it may be to deprive an evil with the help of another evil, his god had foretold that he will suffer the consequences of the sins he will unwittingly commit.
"You will meet your demise one month after you are no longer able to see your reflection."
Now, death is something which is incredibly difficult to confront. The dread of dying will always be there for both those who have lost everything and those who haven't.
It is much like a mechanism over which we have no influence. The fear is intended to persist, and Leonell is no exception.
The only thing that makes him different is that he has hope, The Book of the Damned, which carries details about innumerable bizarre supernatural happenings that are so preposterous that people simply brush them off as rumours.
"Page 83... Page 83... Ah, here it is...If one has incurred sins that cannot be atoned for, he or she who pursues redemption shall give treble to his or her Lord and shall subsequently offer his or her own flesh to be absolved."
Driven to heart by what he read, Leonell began handing away the vast preponderance of what he possessed day in and day out to those in need, receiving the moniker "the Golden Heart" in the process.
Although he is not pompous nor proud of it, some snoopers find his neutrality offensive, and others are sceptical of his wealth because they are unable to comprehend it.
However, he does not have to worry about getting caught because it is unlikely that he will recall his malfeasance and because his wife stands by him.
Being one of most reliable people, she holds immense power in her community.
Many a time, when someone seeks guidance or support, they rely on her sense of equilibrium and on her reflective pondering.
Therefore, it only makes sense for people to genuinely believe what she says and that her spouse is not at fault.
Yet oh! Thou can save thy land from fire, not thy soul.
A snarl from the abyss, a flash of fire, A devil lies beside her weary thoughts.
His six vacuous eyes look at her with repressed ferocity, flooding her mind with unfounded doubts.
He is in the kitchen, prepping supper. She sits behind him at the table.
She is aware that she shouldn't inquire about the stories she heard or about the book that is not of this world.
But she is impotent to resist the resisted ferocity; she has long since left the road.
"You weren't perusing your journal once more, were you? How many times do I need to caution you to avoid doing that? I'm going to drive you to the doctor this time. Sure?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know exactly what I mean, I overheard you. All these donations you are making are because you are exploring another unearthly rite, but to consider giving your own flesh?"
"No, why would I do that when everything is wholly yours, Goddess?"
"Goddess?"
Like a tiger glaring at poachers who aren't at fault for her cubs' slaughter, she is enraged and has lost her serenity.
She is overwhelmed, and there is no one present to prevent her from flinging a hand at her partner.
But, in the midst of her never-ending concerns, she has entirely managed to forget that she was grilling when the sun was up, and that she has never given up on the pocket knife she had in her hand.
A month after the prophecy, a celebration in a puddle of blood, she stands holding him up in the chair beneath her.
With a trauma so intense and quick, a faint glow departs the land while a creature steps closer to it.
Mutilating her share from her scorched bones and the infuriated flames that encircle her psyche, she collapses to the ground, unable to move onward.
The next day, however, sees the advent of a ripper in the brothels of Blard.
She impersonates them, conceals her history, and offers her body in exchange for their trust, and subsequently uses the substituted item to gash them, much like she did with the first.
But her curse won't last for long as the light adores the darkness she bears.
It will leave her conscience dangling in a chasm of emptiness.
"What have I done? No, no, this isn't fair, this isn't real, this isn't true."
From between the sandstone bricks and hard wooden columns that compose the majority of her chamber, she can feel someone staring at her, but she knows it's not a demon but a person lurking in the shadows.
Yet, she doesn't have to be terrified, she doesn't have to suffer; she just has to pass the torch to the one who was relished by the light and by her
"You killed my mother. You slaughtered her, and now I'm going to slaughter you."
