The Romani family

As Eiravyne slowly opened her eyes again, she found herself lying on a simple cot in a dimly lit cabin.

The soft glow of candle light flickered against the walls, casting long shadows that danced with the gentle sway of the cabin.

The night outside was shrouded in darkness, broken only by the faint glimmer of stars peeking through the canopy of trees.

A chill ran down Eiravyne's spine as the memories of the night's chaos flooded back to her.

A wave of overwhelming emotion washed over her, and tears began to stream down her cheeks.

She covered her face with her palms and just surrendered to the pain she felt.

The events of the night—the attack on her home, her father's betrayal, and the loss of everything she held dear—weighed heavily on her heart.

With each sob that wracked her body, she felt the weight of her grief and despair pressing down upon her.

The tears flowed freely, unchecked by pride or restraint, as she allowed herself to release the pent-up anguish that had been building inside her

A few hours later, pushing herself up, Eiravyne winced as the pain from her injuries reminded her of the ordeal she had endured.

She took a moment to assess her surroundings, noting the rustic furnishings of the cabin and the comforting warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth.

Standing up from the humble bed, she sighed when she noticed a huge mirror fixed on the wall.

Its design was different and she just couldn't help but approach it.

She looked at her reflection in it and she just couldn't help but just feel too guilty to even breathe when her entire family was eradicated.

Eiravyne was twenty years old, she had long dark eyelashes on her eyes framed beautiful crescent eyebrows, pale skin, while waves of dark hair cascaded down her shoulders.

Rosy cheeks adorned a face with bright blue eyes that seemed to radiate an otherworldly charm. She was thin with only 1,60m of height.

But now her eyes were swollen and lips too, she was too pale from usual.

She was about to fall when she heard a knock on the door then a girl entered the room, bearing an appearance reminiscent of a maid yet adorned in attire befitting a rural Victorian setting.

She wore a simple yet detailed dress with earth-toned fabric, adorned with intricate embroidery.

Her dark hair was neatly tied in a bun, and brown eyes that exuded an air of hostility.

Closing the door with a deliberate thud, she deposited clothes on the bed, casting a scrutinizing gaze at Eiravyne.

With an air of hostility, she declared, "You're awake…finally …it has been a week since you came here …well…Change your clothes, mister Lorenzo Romani is waiting for you."

The maid didn't even allow a conversation to start between them, she just glared at her for a few seconds then she left .

Eiravyne, after the maid left,walked back to the cot and gazed at the dress.

She thought of refusing but then the picture of her dead father made her go back to her senses.

" I need to …just ..play along …until I figure out a way to just …run away " she murmured.

The dress she wore stood in stark contrast to her surroundings.

Unlike the other families, the Romanis appeared more humble in their attire.

Their clothing reflected a deep connection to nature, divine powers, and dark energies, as they actively engaged in witchcraft as part of their daily lives.

Their garments lacked the elegance seen in other households, embodying a distinct and unconventional style.

Her dress, a testament to refined taste, boasted an undeniable elegance.

The dress, bathed in a hue that merged the purity of full white with the softness of rosy extremities.

The delicate fusion of these colors created a visual symphony.

Crafted from a luxurious fabric, it seamlessly embraced her form, accentuating the gentle curves of her silhouette.

The absence of shoulders in the design lent a modern flair.

The ribbons, carefully chosen and delicately placed, cascaded from Eiravyne's rosy shoulders with an intimacy.

Their descent spoke of a deliberate choice, an intimate detail meticulously designed to draw attention to the exposed shoulders, creating an alluring interplay of fabric and skin that hinted at both vulnerability and grace.

"This dress is just…a sick way to torture me even more, after all that choas ... here I am dressed in this beautiful dress ..it just feels like a sin ..an enormous sin ," she said with tears in her eyes .

In this transient moment, the weight of anticipation lingered in the air, casting an ominous shadow over the delicate allure of her attire.

Eiravyne, recognizing the inevitable, understood that this exquisite garment meant something twisted was about to happen therefore she just needed to be a bit strong to just actually have a chance of survival.

Eiravyne walked to the door and opened it ...it was not locked as she expected, she walked to the dining room.

The dimly lit dining room exudes an air of rustic opulence, with wooden furniture and flickering candles casting dancing shadows on the walls.

She approached Lorenzo Romani with a measured grace, her eyes assessing the scene before her.. he looked so shady to her .

Lorenzo sat at the head of the table, exuding a sense of authority that permeated the room.

His three sons, positioned around him, bore the unmistakable marks of the Romani lineage – a fusion of strength and mystique.

Each had a distinct air about them, an aura that hinted at their individual roles within the intricate tapestry of the Romani family dynamics.

Their eyes followed Eiravyne with a mixture of curiosity and anger.

Lorenzo's wife, standing near the window.

The soft glow from candles framed her silhouette, accentuating the delicate features that held a quiet strength.

She observed Eiravyne with a gaze that seemed to carry so much hatred.

Eiravyne said to him with tears in her eyes :" Y-you monster, how dare you ! you killed my..my father! "

Lorenzo Romani's voice reverberated with a cold, calculated malevolence as he proclaimed, " ahem ....well ...dear...not just your father ...the entire Verenth family ...There is no escape for you, Eiravyne Verenth. No benevolent force will rescue you.

Your wretched lineage, every trace of Verenth kin, has been ruthlessly extinguished by my hands. The Verenth family, once proud and powerful, is no more.

I have obliterated their legacy, erased their name from the annals of existence.

There is no redemption, no salvation for you. Embrace the inexorable darkness that awaits."

"I want to burn her alive, father." Marco Romani's sinister declaration cut through the air like a venomous blade.