Day by day, the King Rodrick’s demeanor darkened, devotion giving way to cruelty—just like that of the pace servants.

  Princess Eve became his primary target, believing that tormenting her was the key to unlocking the divinity he so desperately sought.

  Empowered by with the King’s consent, the attendants reignited their malicious acts against the princess with a zealous vigor. Vicious ughter echoed like a sinister chorus through the barren halls beyond her secluded chamber.

  It was on the night before the princess’ fourteenth birthday when the darkest chapter of her life was forever etched into her memory.

  A group of male attendants, led by the once-loyal Captain of the Royal Guard—who used to watch over the young princess when she pyed in the pace gardens—stormed into her chamber.

  The stale air was thick with tension and the shadows cast by the princess’ single light source danced in anticipation of the cruel act to come.

  They subjected Princess Eve to savage beatings.

  The princess, trembling with pain and fear, desperately fought to protect herself, but her strength was no match for the darkness that had hold over her oppressors.

  After an eternity of torture, the attackers finally left the room. Their sickening ughter haunted Princess Eve, who had been left bruised and broken.

  Her cries for help had gone unanswered.

  The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on her still form, like wraiths mocking the innocence that had been stolen from her.

  Moments ter, with a cautious yet determined step, Lily entered the princess’ chambers.

  Her eyes went wide with horror at the sight that greeted her.

  She knelt beside the princess and with trembling hands, began to tend to the princess's wounds with worn strips of cloth that couldn't even be called a bandage.

  Though her touch was soft and gentle, every time she made contact with the princess, Eve flinched in desperation.

  Lily continued to whisper words of soce and tenderness. She worked tirelessly to mend the physical wounds that marred the princess but worried the emotional damage could never be healed.

  Princess Eve’s once bright amethyst eyes now seemed dull and lifeless.

  The following morning, any sparks of hope left in the princess' heart were snuffed out. In the cruel grip of dawn's first light, Lily mysteriously vanished from the pace, leaving Eve alone once more.

  Days passed and Lily still had not returned to Eve’s side.

  One night, as the moon hung low in the sky and the bitter winter winds howled through the pace corridors, a burning desire for her whereabouts welled up within Eve's heart. She slipped through the halls of the pace and tuned her ears to the boisterous conversations of guards.

  Their howling ughter revealed the horrifying truth—Lily had met a cruel end, silenced by those who despised her pure heart.

  She could no longer take it. Eve fled the pace. Her weak body struggled in the unforgiving cold, her thread-bare bnket wrapped tight around her fragile form. The night was unforgiving. Still battered and bruised, Eve ventured out from the pace toward the nearby mountains.

  They loomed over her, their jagged peaks reaching to the heavens, silhouetted against the moon's pallid glow.

  Bitter winds howled and cwed at her tiny body.

  Her feet, hardly protected by her worn-out shoes, faltered on the treacherous, snow-covered path. Her heart beat weakly, threatening to stop at any moment.

  As the princess struggled further into the unknown her thoughts turned to Lily.

  As night became day, and the oppressive sun that she hadn’t seen in ages bore down on her withered body—her resolve faltered.

  Her stomach rippled with pain and her throat, mouth, and lips felt dry—even as she sucked on handfuls of melting snow, her thirst and hunger threatened to end her journey at any minute.

  And while on the precipice of death, she saw it.

  An ancient and forgotten temple, hidden away in the heights of the Gandrian Mountains. Inside, a dimly lit chamber y before her, a statue of a golden goddess stood sentinel.

  Eve colpsed to her knees before the nameless deity. Her breaths now ragged gasps and her vision blurred. The taste of iron tainted her mouth.

  She prayed a single wish to the golden goddess, as her st hope in seeking salvation from this terrible life.

  Her voice crackled and strained, “Please, give me another chance… I won’t make the same mistakes again. I won’t do anything to cause my father to hate me. I’ll be a good daughter. I promise. So, please God… please—”

  Princess Eve’s legs finally gave out and she crumbled to the ground in a fit of coughs and wheezes.

  “Ahhh… I don’t want to die like this. Not again.”

  Her words were as icy and lifeless as the world outside the temple, and it caused her to pause.

  …not again? She questioned to herself.

  Why did I—?

  Amid the solitude of the temple, Princess Eve found herself succumbing to the depths of her own mind.

  She awakened to the terrible truth of her existence—her body shuddered.

  A flood of fragmented memories swarmed her thoughts, each one a painful echo of a past life. These recollections, no longer shrouded in darkness, combined with the memories of her current life and threatened to break her mind. She had lived not just one awful life alone, but instead, her existence was a continuum of suffering that stretched across a thousand years.

  As her mind shifted through endless memories, she saw the cruel and relentless cycles of abuse that seemed to haunt her every incarnation.

  She watched herself as a beggar in one life, struggling to find a morsel of food or shelter from the biting cold. In another, she was a borer in the mines, her back bowed beneath the weight of unrelenting toil.

  In one of the most harrowing memories of her past, Eve recalled her first life.

  She had been born as a princess in a once-glorious nation called Revan-Natori. A pce of beauty and prosperity. Its people were known for their mastery of elemental magicks. Yet, it was that very power that lead to their downfall.

  Eve had been born into that world of grandeur but was marred by a curse pced on her soul the moment she was born, a curse which had ensved the daughters of Natori for generations. This curse was a malevolent force that entwined their lives with suffering and despair, an ancient legacy that had festered like a rotting wound. Eve had not been born a princess; she was a vessel for the curse, bearing its weight like a crown of thorns.

  Catastrophe came for Revan-Natori as the nation was reduced to ruins by a group of void magick-wielding elves. Their mighty armies were sughtered with ease and her father, the king, was beheaded. The once-proud nation of Revan-Natori became nothing but a puppet state, renamed to the Kingdom of Rena, and offered up as a solemn concession to the elves.

  As the new ‘ruler’ of this forsaken vassal kingdom, Eve’s brother, Prince Lysander, was entangled in the same darkness that had consumed their kingdom. In his desperation to assert control over the void-addled curse that had their family employed to ensve its own, he led himself to insanity.

  One fateful night, the curse's malevolence reached its zenith. Eve, imprisoned within her own mind, was forced to watch in abject horror as her brother, driven to madness over his failures to control the curse, turned on her.

  With void magick coursing through his veins, Lysander murdered her in cold blood.

  Eve's eyes bore witness to her own demise as her heart was ripped from her chest, the pain searing through her soul like a seething fire. Her final moments were marked by cruel betrayal, the agony of her heart's removal, and a chilling awareness of the curse's insidious power.

  Her spirit, marked by decades of torment, would continue to carry the weight of that brutal end into her future lives. The memories of her past would haunt her as a relentless specter of despair.

  Her every existence was marked by adversity, and the pain she once bore transcended all.

  The memories of these past lives were an oppressive tapestry woven with the wicked threads of fate, id out before her like a never-ending nightmare.

  Every moment of betrayal, heartbreak, and injustice, was etched in her soul, waiting only for her to die to py them back over again.

  With tear-stained eyes, Eve struggled and gave one st look at the ancient statue looming over her. In a quiet voice, she cursed the Gods.

  Her vision finally faded to bck.

  The princess’ st thoughts were of dread and anguish. A desperate plea that she would never be reborn—that her life would end for all eternity.