Beautiful like a spider lily but sharp and deadly like a sword. She only wishes what could death feel like but her reach is far from it, both cursed and blessed by the power she got.

In the lone night while the moon is out and shining, she sat under a tree, leaves dancing with the wind. As the gust blows, the hair on her face sways away, revealing her crimson red eyes like fiery and bright stars in the night sky, though her gaze doesn't radiate warmth, only cold bitterness and emptiness.