Fifteen years old.
The days of laughter in the Noir Estate had long since faded.
What once echoed with music and warmth now carried only the sound of quiet footsteps and muffled sobs.
A shadow had fallen upon the family — the Black Blood Plague.
Some said it was the disaster of the age — a curse from the heavens themselves.
Highly contagious, unrelenting, and cruel beyond measure.
The first symptoms were subtle — shifts in mood, bursts of confusion.
Then came the coughing, the bleeding, the pain.
And finally… the body collapsed, one organ after another.
Doctors from across the continent came to the Noir Estate, bringing potions, relics, prayers —
but nothing changed.
Nothing ever changed.
The Breaking of a Family
The once-proud Patriarch, Auren de Noir, grew colder each day.
He was known across kingdoms as a master of the sword — unshakable, unyielding —
but even he had a weakness:
his love for his wife.
The family ties began to tremble.
The servants whispered prayers.
The people of the estate lit candles through the night.
And in the middle of it all, in a white room scented with lilies,
Lady Elyra de Noir, the heart of the family, lay quietly fading.
For seven months, Auren visited her every single day —
against every warning, every plea from the doctors.
That morning was no different.
He entered her chamber.
The air was still. The curtains moved softly in the pale light.
White lilies — the ones Valen had picked from the garden — rested in a vase beside her bed.
She smiled faintly when she saw him.
He took a seat by her side, unable to meet her eyes.
"My lady," he whispered, voice trembling, "I will find you a cure.
Even if I must spend every coin I own, even if I lose my name and my land — I will find it.
Just endure a little longer, I beg you."
It was the same promise he had made every day for seven months.
And every day, it became emptier.
Lady Elyra reached out, her hand cold but gentle, and brushed her fingers along his cheek.
"My time has already come, my dear."
He straightened sharply, his voice breaking.
"No. I just need more time. I will find it. I swear it."
She smiled again — softly, tenderly, as if comforting a child.
"Oh, my king. My husband. My love…"
"Every second of my life, you made brighter with your strength and your heart.
But now, I must leave — for a short while."
Her breath grew shallow, but her tone remained steady.
"Heaven knows that the only things I love more than you are our children.
I cannot let them be harmed because of me.
And heaven also knows that I am the one most loved by you in this world."
Auren's hands shook. He tried to hide his tears, but they fell anyway.
She smiled through her pain — still trying to comfort him.
"You are a good man, Auren. You loved me every moment of your life… as I loved you."
She took one last breath and whispered:
"It's all right, my dear. I'll be waiting for you.
But don't come too soon… You still have to live — for our children."
Her hand slipped from his.
The lilies trembled in the faint wind.
Lady Elyra de Noir, the heart of House Noir, closed her eyes one final time.
And never opened them again.
That day, the Patriarch of the Noir family wept like a broken child.
The estate bells tolled seven times — one for each month she suffered.
And far away in the training yard, Valen stood frozen, sword in hand,
feeling a pain he could not yet name.