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'𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘴𝘩𝘦
𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵. 𝘠𝘦𝘵
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴
𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘺.'

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"𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒔
𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓."

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   Arabella, a stunningly beautiful woman with deep, enigmatic emerald eyes and her skin as pure as freshly fallen snow. She would stroll through the village, her red hair flowing like a river of fire behind her, and observe the eyes that watched her.

   Her hair was a source of envy among the other women of the village. Men on the other hand, could not help but be captivated by her regal beauty, like moths drawn to flame.

   Arabella's striking appearance did more than just draw attention. There was something else about her, a subtle power, a quality that made people both admire and fear her. Some whispered of her connection to the earth and the natural world, while others spoke of her ability to perform miracles.

   The woman held a special fondness for nature, a bond that seemed to run deeper than mere affection. The trees, the plants, they all seemed to respond to her touch, bending and dancing to her will. Her delicate fingers could bring even the most stubborn flowers to bloom, and her voice soothed the creatures of the woods with its siren-like quality.

   Arabella's eyes held a captivating power of their own. Set into her pale, flawless face, they glimmered like the most perfect of jewels. Deep and intense, they seemed to hold the wisdom and experience of centuries. Some saw them as warm and inviting, their depths sparkling with hidden promises, while others feared their penetrating glare, as if they could look straight into the soul.

   Arabella herself was aware of the effect she had on others, and she wielded it like a weapon. She would stroll through the village, her red hair flowing like a river of fire behind her, and observe the eyes that watched her.

   As a seemingly young woman, it seemed as if the world were at her fingertips, everything she desired, came to her with very little effort. The wealthy and powerful men of the village all vied for her affection. She could sense their admiration, their envy, and their fear. But there was one gaze that she craved above all else.

   Damien, a blacksmith by trade, had been enamored with Arabella from the moment he laid eyes on her. With his rugged hands, muscular body, and eyes a shade of blue that mirrored the sky on a clear day, he was a striking contrast to Arabella's delicate beauty.

   The younger man would admire her from afar, always watching her with a mixture of reverence and desire. As a blacksmith, he toiled in the heat of the forge day after day, crafting weapons and armor from red-hot steel. Yet is mind remained occupied with thoughts of the ethereal woman with the crimson hair.

   Their love was a secret, a whispered affair they kept hidden from the villagers' gossiping eyes. Late at night, when the world was shrouded in darkness, they would steal away from their homes and meet in a hidden grove on the edge of the forest, where the trees bent towards each other, creating a haven of solitude and privacy. 

   Under the boughs of the ancient oaks, the lovers would revel in their stolen moments together, wrapped in each other's arms, their bodies intertwined as they whispered pledges of love and promises of a future together. Their kisses carried the sweetness of forbidden love, and the whisper of the leaves in the breeze concealed the sounds of their passion. 

   As the stars above them bore witness to their love, they knew that they belonged to one another – body, mind, and soul. 

   Arabella and Damien two souls meant to be one, their love burning like an unquenchable flame. They spoke of dreams and whispered promises of a future full of love, laughter, and adventure. The world seemed perfect within Arabella's reach... and then came the Dark Days. 

   Upon learning of the secret affair, men in the villages fueled by jealousy and hatred, had huddled together, their whispered words taking on a sinister undertone. They would accuse Damien of using magic of his own, or possibly lacing the lady's evening tea in order to have his way with her.

   It was the only explanation. The most desired woman hadn't allowed her gaze to linger, yet a lacking wealth and family manage to lure her into the palm of his calloused hands? Impossible.

With a collective sense of vengeance, they had decided to act. The took away what this did not know was most precious to her— love.

   The grief and anger that consumed Arabella after the tragidy, were both all-consuming and profound. The pain of losing him sent a shockwave through her very being, and her soul became a tempest of seething hatred and revenge.

   Her once vibrant hair, now lifeless and dull, hung in tangled strands around her pale and disheveled face, a visual representation of the desolation that had befallen her heart. 

   Her grief-stricken eyes, once mesmerizing, burned with an otherworldly intensity, reflecting the inferno that blazed within her soul.

   Her once gentle nature had been shattered into countless pieces, the shards of her heart sharpened to a razor-edge through the anguish of her loss. What remained of the kind-hearted young woman now lay buried beneath layers of rage, despair, and an overwhelming thirst for vengeance. 

   In her distraught state, Arabella's extraordinary powers seemed to become unhinged. Her already formidable abilities grew stronger and more volatile. Nature itself seemed to respond to her pain, the very elements reflecting the chaos that roiled within her.

   Storms would gather without warning, the very air crackling with a mixture of rage and anguish. Creatures that once responded to her touch now recoiled, sensing the dark change within her. Except for one, her pet raven.

   The villagers, once a thriving community, now struggled to survive. The crops failed, the livestock perished, and the river, once rich with fish, now ran dry. It was as if the very earth beneath their feet had grown sick and weary. 

   The villagers who had once sought her help now avoided her, their fear of her new, more volatile persona trumping their need for her aid. They whispered about her in hushed voices, claiming that she had become a sorceress of the darkest sort, a vengeful creature that thirsted for their demise.

   The very air around Arabella would hum with a malignant energy, a foreboding aura that warned of her descent into madness.

   As the villagers shunned and taunted her, Arabella's grief and anger continued to consume her, driving her to the brink of madness. She no longer sought the company of others, even children whom she adored, choosing instead to isolate herself within the walls of her Castle, shadowed by the trees.

   Some would say that sounds coming from her fortrice can be heard from miles away, haunting the men and women whom took part in destroying her life. Just as they did her, Arabella would take away the person most loved by them.

   Others believed it was whispered incantations that escaped her lips, the desperate pleas to the spirits that now haunted her mind. She became a phantom, a whisper in the wind, a harbinger of death. 

   Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, and still Arabella's heart remained shattered, the pieces of her shattered soul scattered across the forest floor. Every night, she would wander the woods, her footsteps silent and her gaze haunted. She would kneel in the clearing where Damien had been taken from her and pray to the spirits, begging them to free her from her agony. 

   But the spirits, as vengeful as she, refused to heed her pleas. Instead, they whispered to her of revenge, of a plan to exact justice upon the villagers who had condemned her love. Arabella listened to these dark thoughts, her grief twisting into something cold and calculated.

   She had become a force of reckoning, a storm upon which the villagers would soon face. She was more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Using that power, she was determined to reign hell upon. Her powers extended far beyond what anyone could imagine.

   With that power, shall she reign hell upon them all in Fire and Blood.