At the time of her birth

*** in the other world ***

The waves of the Southern Seas were unusually loud and high. They had turned crimson in the sky, mimicking the hue of a triple moon. But they could not overshadow the shine of the rare beauty, the Southern Star. It was up there in the sky, just as was prophesied. It was a breathtaking view, but all that the onlookers could feel was fear. They were not timid creatures. They were mages. Human-like creatures with unimaginable supernatural powers. Their powers varied according to their clan and the techniques that they developed after birth. The rise of the Southern Star in the sky, along with the triple moons, was the beacon for the drumroll. It was an indication that the never-ending war between the tribes was finally coming to an end. A supposed happy affair. Alas! That was not the case. The end of the war would mean that some would gain superiority over others. That was a concept alien for the power-crazy mages. They had gained immortality a very long time ago. And with that, there began a power struggle to decide in whose hands the wand to control eternity lay. Thus was the land of Chemora, a place where no human could land.

Just as the Southern Star rose in the sky, the cries of a newborn filled the ill-lit, dingy space. The woman was huffing and crying as the placental sac still hung out of her bloody and swollen vagina. Her sobbing flickered between a smile and a sigh. She finally reached out to lift the little girl, who was sucking away at her hand. Beside them was kneeling a very handsome man. He watched the baby girl with tears in his purple eyes. The woman handed the baby over to him with trembling hands. "You promised to save her, Kilian..." She pressed the man's hand with her frail fingers.

"You know I have always been a man of my word." He was about to get up and leave with the newborn clutching his arm.

"Wait! "

The woman suddenly called out as Kilian turned to look at her. She sat up, snatched the baby away from his arm, and hugged it so hard as if her breath depended on that. She then put her on the ground and moved her hand seven times over her face. The purple in the baby's eyes slowly turned brown as she kicked and punched the air with her limbs.

"A cloaking spell! Why would you burden a newborn with such a heavy spell? Doesn't she already have a hard time planned ahead of her?"

Kilian asked with a little hesitation.

"It's for the best. You don't need to know all the details. Just keep your promise, Kilian. That's all I ask from you." Her eyes lit up like the sun peeking from behind a heavy, gray cloud. Kilian didn't utter another word. He picked the baby up and went straight out of that door. No sooner had he left than the woman began eating up her placenta and all the other bloody discharges. The bones behind her back cracked with every morsel she took. She looked like a wild hyena, devouring diligently the carcass left behind by the lion king. The cloth behind her back shredded itself as two pairs of crimson wings burst open from her shoulder blades. The roof of that place burst open as she spread her wings above it. She was hovering in midair, apparently waiting for something. Or maybe someone.

"I can see that you have successfully unburdened yourself. Where is your load, Kirara? You know I have no intention of harming you. I came only for the girl! The voice talked in whispers. It seemed like it originated from the depth of the darkest abyss of despair, capable of manipulating the fear and terror of the one who would hear it. Each syllabus dripped with venomous intentions as he talked.

" She is gone. She has gone to a place where your evil shadow will never touch her heavenly face." Kirara retorted. What followed was a guttural laugh. She clenched her fists in response. Her veins pumped up as anger flushed over her face.

"You do realize you are talking about the daughter of the damned. Don't you, Kirara?"

Kirara looked like the little puppy who fights back, even though it knows that it stands no chance against those boys stoning it to death. It's the reflex that kicks in when fear crosses its bearable threshold.