[Mad Hat Island, Year 1510]
Elyndra sat in the corner of a damp basement, her back pressed against the cold stone wall. The wounds on her body no longer ached—but the bitterness festering inside her heart only grew deeper with each passing day. Her "exclusivity" hadn't changed. She was still kept behind glass like a prized possession—untouchable without permission, yet ordered around like a servant with no will of her own.
Le Maison Crux remained the same—a gilded prison. The auctions ran like clockwork, day in and day out. She remained one of their most valuable pieces, paraded but never truly seen, treated like a rare gem to be admired, not respected. Every time she left her cell, she was expected to dance, to sing, to smile for the hollow eyes of men who only cared about what she represented: wealth, control, ownership.
They spoke to her not as a person, but as a luxury. They laughed about fortunes and power, about conquests and indulgences, never realizing the disgust clawing at her from the inside. Every word, every look, every demand etched a little more darkness into her soul.
But the most painful truth of all wasn't how she was treated. It was that the world didn't care. The world kept spinning, indifferent to her suffering. This wasn't just her prison—it was a reflection of the rot at the heart of everything. She used to believe in kindness. She used to hope. That version of Elyndra—the noble girl with dreams and warmth—felt like a distant ghost.
Now, there was only the quiet rage.
She closed her eyes, trying to silence the storm in her mind. But the silence was just an echo chamber for her resolve. She didn't want mercy. She didn't want freedom handed to her like charity. What she wanted—what she needed—was retribution.
If she ever escaped this place, she wouldn't run.
She'd return.
And she would burn it all down.
Every laugh, every chain, every name that whispered her shame—they would learn what it meant to be broken.
The darkness within her was no longer something to fear.
It was her compass.
And she would follow it until the world that caged her was nothing but ash.