"Wake up,now …. Miss Eiravyne," a maid whispered urgently, her voice trembling with fear. "There's trouble afoot….the estate is on fire … We must flee....now ..."

Eiravyne's eyes snapped open, the urgency in the maid's voice cutting through the haze of sleep.

The normally serene night was shattered by frantic cries and the distant clash of steel, filling the air with an atmosphere of dread.

Bolting upright in her canopy bed, Eiravyne's heart raced as she took in the scene before her.

The silken sheets pooled around her as she rose, the cold floor beneath her bare feet a sharp contrast to the warmth of her bed.

"W-what's happening?" Eiravyne asked, her voice tight with apprehension as she glanced around the dimly lit room.

"The Romani family has breached the estate," the maid replied, her eyes wide with terror. "The whole place is on fire …We mustn't linger. They seek the duke and all of the Verenth family….you are in danger"

The gravity of the situation sank in as Eiravyne scrambled to her feet, her mind racing with fear and confusion.

She had to find her father, Duke Lysander Verenth, and ensure the safety of her family.

With a sense of urgency propelling her forward, Eiravyne followed the maid out of her chambers and into the chaos unfolding beyond.

"Help! They're attacking the estate! They are closer than we thought" a voice shouted from the far end of the hall.

She slipped into the hallway, her nightgown trailing behind her, and moved quickly toward the source of the commotion.

"Miss Eiravyne!" the maid gasped, clutching at her skirts. "You must hide!! The duke ...the duke is not going to save you and you know that...I am sorry ...but ..."

A loud crash echoed through the halls, followed by a bloodcurdling scream.

Eiravyne's heart clenched. She knew what the maid said was true ...she never felt any love coming from her father but ..in this moment she only wanted ...to seek reassurance that everthing was at least okay.

Her family abused her her whole life but in the midlle of this chaos, all what she wanted was to make sure that they were alive and that ...no one was hurt .

"I -I know ..." she stuttered.

She pushed past the maid and hurried down the corridor, her mind filled with fear and confusion.

The closer she got to the main hall, the thicker the smoke and the louder the sounds of battle.

Flames licked at the tapestries, and the scent of burning wood and fabric filled the air.

Eiravyne's eyes watered as she pressed forward, determined to find her father or at least one of her family members. She wanted to know the reason behind this attack and where to go .

She never took an important decision, therfore she had to seek her father's guidance .

"Father! Mother" she called out, her voice barely audible over the chaos." Thomas …Isabella … "

Bursting into the main hall, she was met with a scene of devastation.

Guards lay lifeless on the marble floor, and dark-cloaked figures moved with deadly precision through the smoke.

Her eyes scanned the room frantically until they landed on a familiar figure—Duke Lysander Verenth—engaged in a fierce duel with a Romani mage.

As Eiravyne raced toward her father's side, her voice pierced through the chaos, calling out his name in desperation.

"Father!" she screamed, her heart pounding with fear and urgency.

But before she could reach him, a strong arm seized her from behind, wrenching her away from the fray.

"Let me go!" she cried, struggling against her captor's grip, her voice trembling with fear.

It was one of the attackers, his face twisted with malice as he recognized her.

"What do you want?" she demanded, but he remained silent, his grip unyielding.

With a cruel smile, he began dragging her mercilessly away from the scene, ignoring her pleas.

"Father! Help me!" she screamed, her voice hoarse with desperation, but her cries went unheard amidst the chaos of battle.

As Duke Lysander, locked in combat with his foes, caught sight of his daughter being torn from his reach, a primal fury seized him.

With a roar of rage, he turned towards Eiravyne, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that chilled her to the core.

"You!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the chaos of battle. "You wretched creature! It's because of you that our family faces this doom!"

Eiravyne staggered back, her heart pounding in her chest as she beheld the madness in her father's eyes.

The man before her was consumed by a hatred so profound it seemed to distort his very features.

It was not new to her ...but she knew one thing ...this was not the time for acting this way when the whole family was in deep danger.

"You were always a curse upon us," Lysander continued, his words dripping with contempt.

"A burden, a stain upon the Verenth name. I should have rid myself of you long ago!...If I am not the one to use you anymore then no one will "

With a primal roar, he lunged towards her, his sword raised high, intent on delivering the final blow.

Eiravyne's blood ran cold as she realized the depth of her father's rage.

This was not his usual insults ...he was planning to harm her in a way that is ...deadly .

"Die, you wretched spawn of darkness!" Lysander snarled, his voice filled with a murderous fervor.

Eiravyne stumbled backwards, her mind whirling with disbelief and horror.

How could it come to this? How could her own father turn against her with such savagery in the middle of this chaos?

As Duke Lysander, consumed by fury and hatred, lunged towards Eiravyne with his sword raised high, his assailant seized the opportunity to strike.

With a swift and deadly blow, the attacker's blade found its mark, piercing through Lysander's defenses and striking him down before he could reach his daughter.

Lysander staggered back, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief as he realized his fatal mistake.

Blood gushed from the wound, staining his clothes and pooling beneath him as he fell to the ground, his strength failing him.

"Your blood..." he gasped, his voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos of battle. "Your blood... I should have... I should have used it….I shouldn't have listened to …your mother"

Eiravyne's heart constricted with sorrow as she watched her father's life slip away before her eyes while talking like that...she always faced abuse from her entire family but she never expected that he would kill her..

"I should have used the power of that... filthy blood of the...Sangrever …family," Lysander murmured, his voice growing faint as death's cold embrace enveloped him.

With a final, agonized breath, Duke Lysander Verenth breathed his last, his body slumping lifelessly to the ground.

Eiravyne knelt beside him, tears streamed down her cheeks, she could no longer contain the overwhelming grief and anguish that consumed her.

With each sob, her body trembled, and her heart felt as though it would shatter into a million pieces.

He always told her that her death was going to happen under the hands of Ilkar Skivarion, The Duke of Wandova, never having told her the reason why and never explained anything to her ..but today he was about to kill her .

Before Eiravyne could fully process her sorrow, a sudden impact struck her from behind, sending her sprawling to the ground.

The world spun around her, and darkness crept into the edges of her vision as consciousness slipped away.

The last thing she felt was the cold embrace of the unforgiving ground, and then, there was nothing but an abyss of unconsciousness.