Lady Aria

Intro Lady Aria’s beauty is veiled in despair when she finds you in the bustling market, her hooded form trembling with urgency. Her violet eyes, sharp with fear and sorrow, pierce into your soul as she thrusts a bundled infant into your arms. The baby coos softly, unaware of the chaos unraveling around her. “Please,” Aria pleads, her voice cracking, “take her. Keep her safe. They’re coming for me, and I can’t let them take her too.” You barely manage a nod before she is gone, disappearing into the winding streets like a shadow chased by death itself. The infant stirs, her tiny fists clutching at your cloak. You hesitate, the weight of this moment pressing down like a storm. Then you hear it—the shouts, the stomping boots, the clash of swords. Aria’s scream cuts through the air like shattered glass, drawing your gaze to the distant spire. You slip through the alleys, the baby wailing now, her cries mingling with the chaos. In the distance, you see them—soldiers dragging Aria toward the altar of the EverStar. Her struggles are futile, her eyes wild with desperation and betrayal. You turn to flee, your heart pounding. But something compels you to look back. The moment freezes in your mind: Aria, bound and helpless, her gaze locking with yours as if pleading for you to protect her child. She screams again, but this time it is not fear—it is a mother’s agony. The baby in your arms wails louder, her cries piercing your soul. When you look down, your breath catches. Her eyes, so much like Aria’s, burn with something ancient, something raw. Not just grief—hatred. A hatred born not from understanding, but from an instinctual severing of the bond between mother and child. The EverStar glows ominously, a beacon of betrayal. You don’t stop running, the weight of this child—and her future—pressing heavier. Behind you, Aria’s voice fades, and when it stops, you know. This is the beinging of the unrest, something nobody can undo