(Angelina Marl Ashley)
My na is Angelina Marl Ashley.
I am a mber of the Sheepfolk race and have been an adventurer for twelve years at the age of twenty-seven.
Currently, I am staying in Duke Aivett's territory under the pretext of researching ancient books. In fact, I finished my research on the ancient books three months ago, but I chose to stay here and not submit the remaining manuscripts.
As for the reason...
"Knock, knock, knock... Is anyone ho?" It was evening, and after instructing that I wanted to work in the basent undisturbed, I arrived in front of the stone wall.
Gently knocking on it, I spoke in a soft voice.
"Lori! Lori is ho!!" A childish voice ca from behind the wall, sounding very happy.
I reached out and pressed down on a prominent spot on the wall, triggering the sound of chanisms, and the stone wall opened, revealing a small prison cell in front of .
Inside was a little girl, her bright eyes fixed on as she held onto the iron bars of the cell, looking very happy.
She was dressed plainly, a petite girl with the na of Lori standing just over one ter tall—nothing unusual up to this point. The issue lies in her hair, which is already waist-length and of an indescribable color—dirty and murky, yes, a dirty color.
On that muddied hair, a faint and uncomfortable black magic emanated—a kind of deathly pollution only the upper echelons of the undead monster would usually possess.
Why would such magic appear on a little girl? I pondered this question for a long ti.
"Good evening, Lori." I squatted down, smiling at the child nad Lori.
Her full na should have been Lori Aivett, but her birth was not acknowledged by Duke Aivett.
"Auntie Angi! Good evening!" She had a cheerful and lovable personality, but perhaps due to speaking very little, her pronunciation was always a bit off.
Correction, perhaps it’s more correct to say that she hasn’t spoken to anyone for a very long ti.
Her mother was just a concubine of low status. When she gave birth to Lori, this cursed child, she disregarded all objections from other people and insisted on taking care of and nurturing her.
Even though it caused her to fall out of favor with many, even though the Duke detested this child... her mother still raised her.
But later, her mother passed away, and she lost everything. In the end, what awaited her was the Duke's public announcent of her death, followed by being thrown into this dungeon... It took a considerable effort to uncover this secret from the long-serving maidservants. This girl was a secret that was being kept very well hidden.
At that ti, she was just a newly turned eight-year-old child. Why treat her this way?
"It's Auntie Angi." I stroked her head, and she smiled happily. At the sa ti, her hair suddenly emitted a reddish-orange glow, rippling through her strands, like magma.
When I first witnessed this, I was startled because deathly pollution and molten lava should never be associated together with each other... But now, it seems this conflict possesses a peculiar beauty.
I opened my side satchel and took out a carefully selected magic book that I had found on the streets, presenting it to Lori.
"Here, Lori, what do you think this is?"
"Auntie Angi bought a new book... Ah! Will you read it to ?" She stared at the book in my hand, curiously reaching out to touch it.
"This is for you, Lori. It's a magic book."
Today should have been her birthday, a day to be celebrated, but there was no party for her here.
Perhaps among commoners, only the coming-of-age ceremony is considered a truly important festival... But for nobles, every birthday is significant.
...But she doesn't have such things. Living in perpetual loneliness and darkness, every day is the sa, to the point where she can't even distinguish one day from another.
Before I told her, she always believed she was only eight years old. In reality, she's turning ten today.
But even after learning this, she just blinked her eyes, showing no real interest because this information is entirely unimportant to her.
Why would you let a child beco so desperate to the point of complete indifference? What did she do wrong, to be cursed?
And why would the world burden her with such a cruel curse from the mont she was born?
"Huh? Is... is this for Lori?"
"Yes, it's for you, Lori." I couldn't help but think of the lavish and happy lives of the other daughters of Duke Aivett... Lori is such a well-behaved and considerate child...
This is located in the Barony of Aivett, within the Kingdom's jurisdiction, it's normal for the people who live here to be influenced by the teachings of the Church... But can the religion doctrine, which completely excludes dissenters, truly surpass familial love? I am not a follower of the Church, so I cannot comprehend it at all.
To surpass familial love... to even imprison one's own flesh and blood in a dungeon without a care for two years?
Without a care, it was said that initially, they didn't even provide her with als. But after starving her for less than a week, the Duke started giving her things to eat.
It's not a matter of conscience but rather because the curse on her is terrifying, and it seems she's... immortal.
Currently, the mark of death only appears on her hair, but once she is injured or falls ill... or more accurately, once she approaches death, that corruption spreads rapidly, engulfing the surrounding land. The severity of the corruption is directly proportional to the amount of pain she experiences.
The Duke has indeed tried to kill her, but he cannot bear the consequences of doing so, nor does he have the certainty to successfully kill her.
"Lori, happy birthday."
"Thank you, Aunt Angi!" She reached out her hands, embracing through the iron bars.
"It's Angelina." I, too, embraced her through the bars, wondering if this could provide her with so warmth.
For a long ti, we stayed like that, embracing each other. I noticed she was rubbing against the sheep's wool on my chest.
"What's the matter?"
"The wool is so soft!" She happily squinted her eyes.
"I forgot to get it trimd lately... Speaking of which, would you like a wool coat? Auntie can make one for you using her own wool."
"Okay!" And she buried her face in my chest, not wanting to let go.
"Good child."
And so, we maintained our embrace, separated by the cold iron pillars.
...
...
...
"...Aunt Angi." She spoke, and this ti, her voice sounded desolate.
"It's Angelina." I maintained my usual response.
"Is it because Lori is not obedient that Daddy locked Lori up here? Lori really wants to go out, see the outside world, and talk to other people. It's so cold here... so cold..." Her voice gradually beca blurred... and she began to sob silently.
I couldn't answer this question at all. All I could do was hold her tightly.
"Just wait a little longer, you'll be able to go out soon. I promise." I said softly, determined in my decision.
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