What does it mean to be evil?

To steal from the strong, or to punish the weak?

To tear down a kingdom, or build it on broken backs?

Society thrives on labels, but they are all fragile. Fragile, because they ignore the most human truth of all.

Perspective.

Life is essentially a myriad of views. Every single one is shaped by love, loss, and ambition. Necessarily speaking, no one is born evil, for they too once had love in their heart.

What is the valid point in all of this? To justify your own evil?

How can…evil be justified? Evil is evil, no matter what, isn’t it? The possibility of any perspective being able to justify any evil is nigh impossible. There hasn’t been a single act of wickedness rooted in pure evil that could ever be justified.

Or can it?

If evil were to be justified, and heavily lower its impact and meaning, would the people justifying said action and evilness be adorned to such? Or perhaps have a far deeper and contextual meaning?

If…someone could reshape, and potentially, redefine your morals and what you consider evil.

What does it mean to be evil?

Crimson flames trickled before her.

The village burned as she watched from the cliffside, her heart subtly racing in great effect. The corpses, producing a foul odor, did not make her flinch.

If anything, she embraced the smell.

Her midnight cloak, accented with small touches of magenta, concealed her figure. Barely noticeable under this twilight sky, however.

Her horns protruding from her head were made of thick ivory. Her white hair, although kept in a bun, still reached her waist.

Her red skin made her heritage unmistakable to anyone who might see her. A purebred oni. Contrasting sharply against her hair, though.

But it was her eyes–those piercing, unnatural amethyst eyes. Gleaming, a gaze that tore into the fiery inferno before her. Unblinking, calculating.

The reflection of the flames danced before her eyes. As if peering onto the other side of the flame. For sure, there was no one there. No one expected at least. As if she was the only one in this village.

Or, what’s left of it.

Her face monotone. Eyes slowly narrowed down.

There was nothing much to inspect, her job had already completed.

A small, soft exhale escaped from her as she turned away. Not bargaining to gain one more look at the tormented remnants of the village.

A purple hue began to shine off both of her horns. After a few more steps, and with a wave of her hand, the scenery began to change.

The nature, the cliffside, and all of it before seemed to melt, dissolve, even. This world twisted, and turned, until she stood within her palace. A domain of shadows and secrets.

With each step she took, it began to materialize and form more, constructing. A desk, a chair. Shelves, and shelves of books. Containers filled with rare artifacts and items never seen before.

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With another snap, candles around her ignited. Its wax never burning in a domain like this one. The colors of it all, were primarily black, and guessed, purple. It seemed to absorb all light that entered here.

Black stone walls absorbed the light of flames she conjured to illuminate the room, and every dark corner seemed alive with purpose.

Any light that wasn’t hers.

The oni approached her desk, her boots clicking against the polished obsidian floor. On the desk laid stacks of paper, and a quill sitting neatly right there. Available whenever. She eyed it for a couple of moments, then proceed to grab one.

Her fingers grasped softly onto the document.

Amethyst eyes traced over every word, to make sure this was right. To confirm this was correct. That she would, in fact, be doing this.

To recreate what she once lost that day.

That enigmatic figure who erased the boundary between the two sides.

At the mere thought of it, she scoffed. Any attempt to recreate them would be nothing short of a mere copy, even she was aware of that. But, to raise it with love, and care, as just as she was raised when he found her.

She was sure, it would be nothing short of that.

Onis were naturally known to harbor great deals of anger, vengeance, and wrath. She, was no different. Guided by the few key emotions that her race had only known. However, it’s different this time around.

Her wrath had long subsided, and her journey to avenge and quench such thirst had ended eons ago.

All that remained for the queen of wrath was the love she would give to her next creation.

Her very own offspring.

She chuckled softly at the thought—someone like her, capable of love. It was absurd, and her siblings would surely think so too.

But, she thought back to the time. A time where, she had no one else. All she did remember, or moreso, could remember, was the hand of his. Their hand alone, that felt like the sun, and his embrace of a thousand stars.

Oddly, the thought of being alone often comforted her. At certain times, she had trouble remembering the face, but the one thing she only needed to remember was the hand.

If there was any doubt in her mind, it’s been lessened. At least for now, that is.

A soft, content smile was placed over her lips. She had put the parchment down, and looked beyond. Despite the black brick walls of her light-swallowing domain, she could see the stars through the window.

Standing up, her boots clicked with each step. Looking out beyond, to see the towns light up in the dark night. To believe at once, she hated this world for everything it had done to her. Misdirected hatred, and blind vengeance.

The weight of her decision heavily pressed against her. Could she raise this creation without passing on her own flaws? Without dooming them to the same cycle she had struggled to break?

She was never one of being a teacher, but she could only hope that the cycle wouldn’t be repeated.

It was a huge risk, of course. To add to the fact that she wasn’t just any normal oni. And to add on further that this…offspring, wouldn’t be conducted through any normal reproduction means.

It was a huge gamble. She once believed that, if possible, the offspring always does take a few habits from the parent, or mother in this case.

She was no different from her father, but to linger on matters that have transpired before time even had a name is no different from being stuck in the past.

To be fair, she was a bit…nervous. She couldn’t help but be stuck in the past. Raising one of your own, and especially in a world now thriving with magic and mana is dangerous.

It’s a huge risk, and if there’s one thing this Oni remembered, was the risk he took by raising her. Would it be selfish if at the very least, she didn’t try?

She can try, she knows she can. Weirdly enough, chasing a ghost from the past fills her with faith and determination.

If he can do it, so can she.

With one final look, she watched the stars dance across the sky, their movements like a grand ballroom.

She enjoyed it, a bit hesitant in this action, yes, but she enjoyed it. Perhaps, she enjoyed the uncertainty it gave her. A real emotion she hasn’t felt since…then.

To heighten even further, the night sky lit up. Amongst the many stars, there, a trail of blue. Quick, but sweet.

Her amethyst eyes followed its swift path, to see none other than a shooting star. Beautiful in all of its brilliance. It had crossed over and disappeared beyond the horizon.

As the shooting star disappeared, so did her doubts.

Perspective, she thought.

The stars only dance because she chose to see their rhythm.

She closed her eyes with a very gracious smile. Her lips parted, for the first and last time.

“Welcome to this world, Kusan Ira Nagi.”