Scorched land, and crumbling cobblestone.

A castle, worn down by warfare and ruined by nature stood in the middle of an expanding forest. The dark grey stone, of which the castle’s foundation was built upon, appeared cracked and broken, as if it would collapse underneath its own weight at any given moment. Dark green vines coiled around almost every still-standing structure, a testament to mother nature’s encroaching presence.

It was once a magnificent palace. This much was evident by the faded outlines of towering castle walls, spiraling watchtowers, and broken ramparts that extended out as far as the eye could see. The roof tops were tiled with faded red shingles that gave off a presence reminiscent of majesty, while the castle gates still remained standing, even with the weight of their scars and history bringing them down.

It was indeed a magnificent palace, but unfortunately, all that was left of it was nothing but a mere relic of a bygone era.

Within the inner chambers of the castle, a soft hum filled the air. The sound of light footsteps echoed through the desolate halls.

A head of dull grey hair leisurely skipped through the interior. It was a child. A little girl with the tinge of youth still evident in her complexion. Her figure was thin, almost dangerously so, but not quite. Her skin glowed with a faint, reddish flush, while her face, although stained by dust and dirt, appeared faultless, free of any blemishes or imperfections. Her nose curved upward, and her lips were a healthy shade of pale pink. Her eyes, which were shaped like wide almonds, were decorated with long eyelashes, and a pair of light blue irises.

Poking out from the top of her head, were two protruding black bumps. Following closely behind her as she walked, was a black tail. It was thin, less than the width of a person’s thumb, and the end was shaped like a heart-shaped arrow. It moved naturally, swaying with each step, as the little girl ventured deeper into the castle.

She wore a black, tattered cloak. It had numerous holes and rips on it. The ends dragged against the ground, creating a series of billowing dust clouds that trailed closely in her wake.

The girl walked with purpose, traveling through the castle, while her soft hums continued. Her little feet took her past deserted hallways and empty corridors, before they finally stopped in front of an ancient, wooden door.

The door was half destroyed, and the moment she opened it, the musky scent of aged herb collided with the stench of ash. Much like the rest of the castle, the room appeared as if a tornado had gone and razed a path through the room.

Broken tables, gouged out stone floors, and two of the four walls had collapsed. There was a huge gaping hole in the ceiling, one that peered directly into the first underground floor of the castle. The girl did not bat an eyelash to any of this, as she stepped into the room, and moved towards one of the still standing shelves.

The shelf was tucked away in an inconspicuous corner, and only survived the carnage through sheer luck. Placed on one of the lower levels was a single book.

Grabbing onto the book, the girl breathed out a puff of air on to the surface of the cover, as if to blow away any remaining dust. Of course, there was no dust, but this action was a long-standing habit, deeply ingrained in the girl’s psyche since the very first time she discovered the book.

The little girl carefully traced the hard bindings of the book with a small finger, before she gingerly opened it. Flipping to a certain page, her expression suddenly turned serious. Her cheeks puffed up, as a crease appeared on her forehead.

After a short while, she nodded her head. Taking out a certain object from her pocket, a childish smile appeared on her face. The object was a small sphere, about as large as an adult’s fist. It had a clear, almost transparent surface, but the insides of the sphere appeared as if they contained the entirety of the night sky. A deep shade of black, dotted by numerous twinkling lights that shined with an almost transient glow.

She compared the object in her hand, with the rough outline drawn on the page. Although there were some differences, after a few seconds of scrutinizing, the girl eventually nodded her head with vigor.

She ran towards the center of the room, and placed the spherical orb on the ground. There was a vague outline of a person, drawn entirely out of faded chalk, on the floor. The image was rough, and the lines were shaky. It was apparent that the person who had drawn it was, at best, an amateur, and at worst, a child, but the little girl paid no heed to this.

On the drawing, three distinct circles were drawn, one on the head, one on the chest, and one on the lower abdomen. The orb was placed in the circle on the chest.

With a satisfied grin, the girl admired her work for a few seconds, before she immediately ran towards a different door within the room. After a while, she returned with several jars of an unknown substance. The substance sloshed noisily within their glass containers. The insides were the color of flesh, and their consistency was somewhere between a solid and a liquid.

The girl gingerly set the jars aside near the drawing, before she returned to the room and removed a few more jars. After three more trips, she finally finished. In all, there were twenty jars in front of her, all containing the same, flesh-colored substance.

The girl breathed out a tired sigh, as she wiped the sweat that had formed on her forehead. She brought out the book and flipped to a certain page. After reading for a while, her eyes began to swirl, as invisible question marks floated above her head. A few seconds of indecision passed, before she shrugged her shoulders, and began unscrewing one of the jars.

A reverberating pop echoed through the room, as a slightly acidic smell wafted through the air. Without hesitation, the girl hurriedly dumped the contents of the jar into the circle located on the lower abdomen.

Despite emptying out the entirety of the jar, the semi-liquid remained within the circle. Not even a single drop threatened to cut across the chalk outline. The girl repeated this process, and proceeded to empty out jar after jar of the mysterious liquid into the circle. After all twenty jars were emptied, she finally stopped, and took a step back to admire her work.

Again, despite how much liquid she poured into the circle, not a single drop broke through the chalk. They were held together by some invisible tension, stopping right where the chalk outline began.

She smiled lightly, before she turned her head back over towards the book. After only a short pause, she returned to the outline, and took out another item from underneath her cloak.

This item was wrapped in a dirt stained cloth. Unfurling the cloth revealed a broken horn about as long as a toddler’s thigh. The horn was entirely black. A deep scar traveled from the tip of the horn all the way to its base. Although they looked visually different, the horn shared the same shade of black as the small protrusions on top of the girl’s head.

She hesitated for a moment, before she placed the horn down onto the last remaining circle. Afterwards, the girl took a few cautionary steps away from the outline, before she suddenly extended out her hands.

A few seconds of silence passed, before a faint red glow lit up the room. The glow came from the girl’s outstretched fingers, and as the light descended slowly onto the human-shaped outline, a soft, expectant smile bloomed on the girl’s face.

“Then… create [Homunculus].” Her words, echoed quietly through the air, but no-one, not even her, could hear the faint, melancholic ring in her voice.