"A true demon is one with no heart."
"No h-heart... Mother, how is that even possible?"
Two figures were walking along a dirt path inside a beautiful forest. Tall trees loomed above them, their leaves rustling softly, while gleaming flowers glowed faintly in the night, creating a picturesque view.
One of the figures was a little girl, around the age of 13-15. Her ruby-red eyes were filled with curiosity, and her lush dark hair swayed gently in the night breeze.
The other figure stood at 6'0. She wore a dark cloak with a hood pulled over her head. Although it was impossible to see her features clearly—due to the hood's enchanting effect, which made it difficult for others to perceive her face—one could still catch glimpses of her mesmerizing ruby eyes that glowed softly under the moonlight.
Despite the hood's concealment, it was undeniable that the woman was an older version of the little girl. Both of them were stunningly beautiful—so much so that even the creatures hiding inside the forest were entranced.
At that moment, a group of bunnies was hopping through the bushes, squeaking among themselves as they followed the two ladies, pointing and whispering.
Just above, a flock of midnight-colored ravens perched on the tree branches, their glowing eyes watching the two figures with silent curiosity.
"Of course, it's figuratively speaking," the older woman said. Her voice was melodious and pleasant to listen to—the kind that anyone, regardless of gender, would love to hear often.
She cleared her throat. "From the beginning of time, we demons have always been treated as outcasts by humans and other races. Even the gods have been biased against us."
The woman chuckled bitterly, a brief flicker of sadness crossing her eyes before it vanished once more. "Our privileges are also more limited."
At that precise moment, a frown of displeasure appeared on the little girl's face, and she couldn't help but ask curiously, "Is it because the gods dislike us that we're only compatible with classes that bring death, destruction, or chaos? Like the Chaos Class… Necromancer?"
"Yes... The other classes... they're righteous." A sneer appeared on the woman's face before she corrected herself. "Or at least, they pretend to be. But trust me, they're the scummiest beings in the world. Even the Prince of the Underworld… would hesitate to stoop as low as they do."
The little girl's red eyes shimmered with curiosity, frustration, and something else—an unspoken emotion that burned quietly beneath her gaze. She clenched her small fists, her dark hair flowing in the wind as she walked beside her mother.
"But Mother," she said, her voice firm yet uncertain. "If demons are truly the outcasts of the world, why don't we just… prove them wrong? Why must we be bound by what others think of us?"
The older woman let out a low, knowing chuckle. "Prove them wrong?" she mused. "Oh, my dear child, you are still so young. The world does not allow demons to prove anything. It has already decided what we are."
She came to a stop, and the little girl mirrored her actions. The glowing flowers around them swayed, casting soft hues of crimson and violet upon their faces. The bunnies that had been trailing them hesitated for a moment, their whiskers twitching as if sensing the shift in atmosphere.
The woman turned to her daughter, finally lowering her hood just slightly, revealing more of her sharp yet elegant features. "Listen well," she said, her voice carrying a weight that felt ancient. "A true demon is one with no heart… because a heart is a weakness. It is what binds us to false hopes, to dreams of acceptance that will never come."
The little girl's breath hitched. "But… don't we feel things too? Aren't we capable of love, of kindness?"
The woman's eyes darkened. "That is exactly why we suffer."
A heavy silence filled the air. The bunnies, once playfully following, suddenly twitched their noses and scurried away, disappearing into the underbrush as if something unseen had startled them.
The woman sighed and continued walking, her cloak billowing behind her. "You will understand in time, my dear."
The girl hesitated before trailing after her.
"These memories are becoming more and more common with each passing day," a woman who looked like the little girl mumbled to herself.
Her sharp eyes were focused ahead as she rode on a powerful, midnight-black stallion. Beside her were cloaked figures—the envoys that had escorted her out of the barony.
As she rode, the fierce breeze whipped against her face, but she barely noticed. Her mind was still lingering on the memories—fragments of a past she had long tried to bury.
Eve's grip on the reins tightened slightly, but her expression remained unreadable.
The cloaked envoys riding beside her remained silent. Even though they weren't loyal to her, they were efficient, and most importantly, they did not ask questions. That was how she preferred it.
The path ahead was illuminated only by the dim light of the moon, casting shadows of the riders across the uneven ground. The further they rode, the more the wind howled.
One of the envoys, a figure clad in deep black robes, suddenly spoke in a hushed tone. "Lady Eve, we are approaching the designated meeting point."
Eve barely reacted, only nodding slightly. "Good."
Suddenly, the world around Eve flickered again. One moment, she was atop her horse, and the next—she was somewhere else. It was another memory.
This one was different from the last. It wasn't cold, bitter, or filled with her mother's harsh lessons. Instead, it was warm. Nostalgic.
She was standing in a vast, open field bathed in golden sunlight. The sky stretched endlessly above, untainted by storm clouds. Flowers of deep violet and crimson swayed gently in the breeze, and in the distance, a massive lake shimmered under the sun's glow.
But what captured her attention most was the creature standing before her.