Azaelith's eyes snapped open as she gasped for air, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her body ached in ways she could barely comprehend, but it was the raw, deep confusion that overwhelmed her first. She was alive. Her surroundings—a dark, empty alley, the moonlight casting a pale glow over the dirty cobblestone streets—seemed like a dream, and yet, the cold wind biting her skin felt too real.

Blood. Her body was covered in it. Her clothes were shredded, her face bruised and swollen. The memories of her death came flooding back: the brutal assault, the cold hands that tore at her body, the shadowed faces of those who had done this to her. And then—darkness. Silence.

"How am I... alive?" she whispered, her voice a rasp from the lack of use. She tried to move but collapsed back to the ground, feeling a strange surge of energy pulse through her veins, invigorating her in ways that didn't make sense.

Her hand reached up, trembling, to touch her face. Her fingers brushed against something that felt like warmth, but her reflection in a nearby puddle startled her. Her once-soft, brown eyes had turned crimson—a deep, unsettling red that seemed to glow with an eerie light. She recoiled, unsure of what she was seeing.

Suddenly, she heard whispers. They came from nowhere, surrounding her, brushing against her ears like the hiss of a snake. "She's back. The Devil's spawn."

Her head spun, her thoughts spinning faster than she could grasp. The rumors she had heard—whispers of dark forces, of something greater than her death—started to take root in her mind.

Her name—Azaelith. It didn't feel like her anymore. It felt like a mask, a shadow of the girl she used to be. Azaelith, the daughter of a noble family, murdered for a crime she didn't understand. She had been killed, thrown aside, forgotten—but now, she had returned. But for what? Was it revenge? Redemption? Or something far darker?

She stood shakily, her body unfamiliar, alien. She felt the call of the shadows within her, a power that hadn't been there before. As she lifted her hands to her side, the shadows seemed to stir, swirling around her. The shadows had always been part of the world, but now they were part of her. She was more than human—she had become something else.

The wind picked up, whispering her name once more, a chilling reminder that whatever had brought her back had far-reaching consequences.