This is a true story.

Every event and person have been taken from the occurrences that happened between the months of Elan and Zyreth of the year 1489 AE. Some names and details have been modified to protect the privacy of those involved. What follows is an account as close to the truth as possible of how the events unfolded.

Once upon a time, in a distant village, there lived...

"I long," a poor girl, "more than anything. More than pearls."

"I yearn," a rebellious young man, "more than anything. More than games."

"I want," a desperate prince, "more than anything. More than gold."

"I aspire," a daring adventurer, "more than anything. More than praise."

"I covet," a shameless bounty hunter, "more than anything. More than blood."

"I intend," a man with a broken heart, "more than anything. More than life."

"I desire," and a werewolf, "more than anything. More than the sun."

The seven, filled with longing, gazed at the sky, each burdened with their own sleepless desire. Each sought what they could not touch, a distant wish, difficult to grasp.

"I long to escape my cell," said the poor girl. "Far from grief and this hell."

"I yearn to leave my mother’s reign," said the young rebel. "To a war, wild and plain."

"I want my father’s pride," said the prince. "To not be his jest, in which I hide."

"I aspire to a mighty feat," said the bold adventurer. "A monster, fierce, to defeat."

"I covet treasures unseen," said the bounty hunter. "From those who never dream."

"I intend to kill them all," said the man with a broken heart. "Vengeance served cruel against the werewolves who caused my fall."

"I wish to be whole," said the werewolf. "To live free, no dark control."

The night dressed in vague promises, and the stars, like beacons in charades, twinkled with a mocking light that played with dreams, crowned in hope. While the wind whispered in the vast night secrets that the firmament lavishly carried away, the seven shared a silence heavy with hope and despair, in intertwined dreams. Their hearts, although on separate paths, beat in unison, marked by their desires. But the one who suffered most in this tale was the poor girl who tirelessly cleaned the latrine of her house. Three girls stood at the entrance of this latrine.

“But look who got stuck with cleaning today…” Isabella said. “My little sister, have you been made to clean?”

“Dear sister,” Gabriella said. “Have you been made to clean?”

“Divine sister,” Aurella said. “Have you been made to clean?”

“Has father made you clean?” the three asked in unison.

“Yes… He has made me clean,” the poor girl replied.

“Oh, my poor sister…” Isabella said, caressing the poor girl’s head. “Girls!”

“Yes, Isabella?” the other two replied.

“We must help our dear sister, don’t you think?”

“Of course, Isabella!”

“Are you really going to help me!?” the poor girl asked, hopeful.

“Of course, little sister! Let’s see…” Isabella said, observing the situation. After looking at the latrine with some unease, she stepped out for a moment and returned with a bucket of water, and without a second thought, poured it over the poor girl who stood there, unsure of what to do. “Oh! Now I see something we need to clean.”

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Aurella and Gabriella, without any shame, laughed at the drenched girl.

“Now there’s even more to clean, what a great burden!” they both said before all three left, laughing, leaving the poor girl alone.

Surrounded by three narcissistic sisters, an abusive father, and a distant mother, the poor girl lived in a distressing environment, with little to no hope.

The poor girl, drenched and alone, silently watched as the water trickled away. It dripped from her clothes, running down, and as she stood up, it was still raining. She tried to dry herself but couldn’t manage; the water clung to her skin without mercy. She lifted her gaze, seeking solace, perhaps an answer in the vast sky.

“It’s always the same, isn’t it? No matter how hard I try, it’s always the same. Their mockery, their cruelty, I don’t know what it is, but they make me feel so small, so worthless,” the poor girl wiped her tears with the back of her dirty, wet hand, a grimace of frustration forming on her face. “Is this what I deserve? A life of pain, servitude, ridicule, and cruel contempt? Am I worth less, or do I have no worth at all? Why am I always the one who cleans the tablecloth? The one who endures their cursed laughter, their ceaseless humiliations...”

The girl sighed, her infinite sorrows weighing on her as she breathed deeply, trying to calm herself.

“The worst part is that it doesn’t even hurt as much anymore; it’s just part of my life, like the air I inhale and exhale with every breath. Sadness is my faithful companion, the only one I have left, and every day I wither away, like a flower that silently fades and is forgotten. I burn out slowly, like a light that finally extinguishes, and no one cares, not my sisters, not my mother who pretends, and least of all my father. Meanwhile, I disappear in this eternal darkness”

She raised her head, looking at the door with determination, as if she had finally reached a conclusion.

“But why stay here? Why keep enduring this?” she laughed, a dark tone to her voice. “Is there really anything worse out there than what already torments my soul? What’s the worst that could happen if I dare to escape, to fly? At least they won’t be there... Nor him. Maybe it’s time to break this cruel bond. Maybe it’s time to stop being ‘the poor girl,’ to find something more than this miserable life. Something beyond these cold walls, something that won’t steal any more days from me. Something that isn’t mockery or tears, something that isn’t fear or dread.”

She sighed once more, deep and weary, stood up, looking at the latrine with reluctance, and finally, with slow and steady steps, she entered the house, gathering her clothes and some food.

“I don’t know what awaits me, but it will be better than this sentence. I’d rather face the world, even if my hands are covered in sand, than stay here trapped in this endless sorrow, soaked in misery, without exit or scene.”

The girl, determined to leave, paused at the threshold. Something called to her from within, a voice as subtle as crystal. She turned slowly, looking around the room carefully, and her eyes settled on the golden statue, gleaming in the fireplace with devotion. For years, that radiant figure had been her vision of grandeur and wealth, something she had never been allowed to touch; her eternal promise.

“Always there... The brightest in this house, the most cherished,” her expression shifted; it grew cold. “Sometimes I think they value it more than me, like a star everyone admires, while I’m just an endless echo.”

She approached the fireplace, seeking calm. She looked around, her heart heavy within her. She took the statue in her hands, its weight a strange comfort. Her gaze turned dark as her fingers caressed it, seeking solace in the shape they gripped.

“Why not? They’ve taken everything from me... My dignity, my childhood, my dream world. And worst of all, they don’t even notice,” she said, with the statue in her hand and a shadowed expression. “If I’m going to leave, I won’t go without my due.”

She tucked the statue under her cloak, feeling its weight against her skin. She breathed deeply once more, a faint smile playing on her lips as she walked toward the door, ready to leave her anguish behind.

She stepped out into the cold air, casting one last glance at the home she left behind, her heart racing not from fear, but for whatever she might find.

“Goodbye.”

And so, the poor girl left the house, not knowing that her life was already on the brink. They wouldn’t find her until days later, when the echo of her dead body shattered the silence.