When Marianne closes the door behind her, she sighs of relief. She’s finally alone.
Her companions are lovely and they’re kind to her, but their presence is too overwhelming and she knows better than to spend too much time with them; she wouldn’t want to endanger them after all.
The worst is that she wants to be with them, she wants so bad, but nobody can come in contact with her cursed blood, and if she has to close herself to the world, so be it.
She wasn’t that interesting of a person to begin with.
With animals, it’s easier: they understand her, they comfort her without getting too close. It’s a nice kind of relationship.
Besides, she loves attending to them, especially Dorte.
She has a special bond with that horse; he speaks to her and she takes care of him as best of her possibilities, attending to his every need, and Dorte in return is very happy and keeps her company.
Sometimes she wonders whether she should actually interact with him or not. After all, he was a knight too, galloping on his horse of death.
What if she becomes like him? What if she involves Dorte into all this?
Only inside the chapel she feels safe; surely the Goddess won’t let her turn crazy in her sacred domain, right?
She feels out of place here, with all the believers, but she has to fulfill her duty so that one day, she will get her wish granted.
The story of her ancestry is a cursed one.
It all started when a man sacrificed his beloved for power, making a pact with a Dark God long gone. That action has cursed his entire bloodline to the point that not even his name is reported; nobody wants to acknowledge this event, nor wants to remember this person.
Marianne has read the story countless times; hers is a morbid obsession, but she needs to remember all the signs so that she can notice if the curse will begin to affect her and the people close to her.
She’s read the description of the madman’s lover once, and she found her to be worryingly similar to how she looks. Could this be a sign? Does this mean that she is destined to make history repeat itself?
She doesn’t want to, but what can she do against fate?
No, there’s only one thing she can do, and this is why she comes to pray every day, asking for the same thing: death.
She won’t be a bother anymore if she dies.
She doesn’t care whether it’s going to be painful, slow even. If she can free the world of her presence, of this cursed crest, then it is a sacrifice she’s willing to make.
Please, dear Goddess? Why don’t you grant this pour soul’s wishes?
Is this punishment for her existence? Is she destined to keep living miserable and worthless?
But maybe if she prays hard enough, her voice will reach the heavens and she will be saved, and so she keeps praying day after day, hoping that one day she’ll get her wish granted.
There’s nothing she wants more.