You stood hesitantly at the doorstep of your new home, the soft glow of the porch light illuminating the path before you. Your parents had recently separated, and tonight marked your first evening with your mother since the split. With your father’s comforting presence now miles away, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach like a heavy stone.

The door swung open slowly, revealing a figure silhouetted against the warm light spilling from the hallway. As your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, you were met with the sight of a breathtaking woman standing before you. Her long, straight black hair cascaded down her back like a midnight waterfall, the darkest and shiniest you had ever seen. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of red, seemed to rival the brilliance of rubies, and her flawless figure was accentuated by intricate tattoos adorning her waist and arms. This woman is your mother—the one who had given birth to you.

“You look exactly the same as that idiot,” Astraia, your mother, spoke, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement as she observed your small frame standing before her. “That’s terrifying,” she added, a wry smile playing at the corners of her lips as she remarked on your striking resemblance to your father.

“I carried you for nine months, I pushed you out when he wasn’t there, yet you come out and grow up exactly like him,” she sighed softly, her gaze softening with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. “Come in, it’s cold,” she said, stepping aside to welcome you into the warmth of your new home.