Callista
The Aetherian Empire stood as one of the continent's great superpowers, and it was my homeland. Every child born in the Empire was raised on the same cherished fairy tale, one that recounted the ancient days when mystical beings roamed the lands, laying the foundation for the humans of today.
In this enduring legend, the golden dragon, the last of its kind, was a pivotal figure. It was said to have made the ultimate sacrifice, offering its heart to bring forth the imperial family of Aetheria. Igneous Aetheria, the first emperor, was born of the dragon's heart. Tales even speculated that the imperial family's golden hair found its origins in the dragon's scales, and their piercing crimson gaze mirrored the might of the dragon.
History books and folklore spoke of demons who sacrificed their very essence to create a guardian family of the empire—the enigmatic Darkthorns, descendants of demons. Their legacy lay in the shadows that ensnared those who dared threaten the imperial family of Aetheria. Alexander Darkthorn, the guardian of the first emperor, was a being of darkness, a trait reflected in his descendants' dark hair and eyes, reminiscent of a moonlit night. The darkness within Alexander had caused an imbalance, driving the gods to sacrifice their own beings and serve humanity, their own creation. Like the golden dragon's heart and the essence of archdemons, the gods too offered their souls in service to Helion Aurelius and his descendants. These descendants were known for their flowing silver locks and golden eyes, evoking the brilliance of the sun.
As the ancient world's mana dwindled, other species that once roamed the land began to de-evolve. Weaker species descended to the status of commoners, while the stronger ones ascended to aristocracy, shaping the world as we know it today.
And then there was me, Callista Aureliu, the morning dawn, blessed and served by the gods. I was the last remaining descendant of Helion. Regrettably, my reputation did not mirror this storied lineage. To the world, I was known as a drunk and a shameless woman, deemed unworthy of the Aureliu surname. But my story had not always been thus.
I remember the days of my splendor, when all believed I would be the future empress, when my family still thrived.
But everything began to unravel when tragedy struck. My parents and elder brother perished, and a distant uncle took control of the family. This marked the start of my fall from grace.
My memories fade from that point. The last vivid recollection is of sharing tea with my cousin, a tranquil moment before I succumbed to a deep sleep—a slumber from which I would never awaken, spelling the end of the pure bloodline of Helion.