The night was quiet and the only sound that could be heard on that fateful, dark night was that of the nightingales singing the hymn of the birds below a moonless, mist-covered sky. A thousand-year-old banyan tree which inhabited over twenty-five species of animals and birds stood tall in the backyard of the Mirkinshire estate, giving the old, almost abandoned mansion, an eerie look.

A sudden noise of objects breaking resonated throughout the estate, waking the old and the only servant. The servant wobbled across the mansion's dark corridors hurriedly, as if he had known the place all his life, and stopped in front of a huge mahogany door. He straightened his posture as much as he could with the support of his walking stick and knocked on the partially open doorway.

"Madam, are you alright?" Asked the butler leaning on the wall, too tired to stand. He placed his cane firmly on the ground and balanced himself between the tattered wooden floor and the cracked wall.

"Yes, yes. I am fine, Markle. Too fine actually," she said, stopping in front of a large rectangular mirror in her chamber, admiring herself, "Have I ever been better?"

The butler, Markle shook his head and took a step towards his mistress, "You are young and beautiful madam. Nobody would even notice that you gave birth a few weeks ago if they saw you."

The mistress' expression turned sour and glared at her butler, her rosy lips forming a scowl, "Do not mention that abomination, Markle! That is not my child."

Furious, Lady Mirkinshire threw a nearby ceramic flower vase on the ground. The porcelain jar shattered on contact with the wooden floor and sharp, shiny white pieces flew across the room. One particularly large porcelain piece flew right across the butler's wrinkled cheeks, leaving a big, red scar.

"Forgive me for my ignorance, your grace. I was not thinking." The butler said, hanging his head down, his cane still firmly placed on the floor, supporting his old stature.

As the mistress looked at the shattered piece of vase, her eyes suddenly lit bright and a smirk formed on her pale face, "That's it. Why didn't I think of that?"

She removed the red hairpin from her neatly placed bun, letting her long silver hair flow down to her hips. She cut the sleeve of her bright red white gown and slashed her thin arms until blood soaked the remainder of her sleeve. She then looked at her reflection, a somber expression dawning on her face, "That darn thief! If only he didn't break into the mansion and tried to steal...If only I could've protected the heir better. All is lost now. My life is meaningless."

After realizing his mistress's intent the butler lost his equilibrium and fell face-first on the floor. His body trembled and his walking cane lay near the beige settee, tattered. Unable to comprehend the words that spewed out of his mistress's mouth, he slowly sat up and looked at her in horror.

"S-surely, y-you don't mean to...get rid of your child, madam?" asked the butler. His eyes quivered with fear and his hands trembled, not from the cold but the heartless thought of his once kind-hearted mistress.

"I wouldn't even call it my child but yes, that," the mistress said, her ocean blue eyes twitching and her lips curling down in disgust, "I thought it would have some use, but alas, no. Might as well take advantage of the situation and get rid of it."

The butler who had now stood up with great difficulty looked at her in the eye, "Forgive me for my impertinence but, are you sure madam? Is killing it the only way?"

His mistress laughed, wiping away the tears that had fallen from her eyes, "Oh, Markel. You've become too old. Listen carefully now, the only thing standing between the throne and me is that thing."

The mistress dragged her long red nightgown along the aisle of her dressers as she walked towards the bassinet. The moonlight slowly drifted through the window, illuminating the ruby earrings she so proudly wore. Her fierce blue eyes flickered to the baby which lay peacefully in the bassinet.

"And," she continued, after a dramatic pause and turned to her loyal servant, "Empathy and sympathy, those two are very powerful emotions innate in every human being. We should take make use of such tools to strengthen ourselves in this unruly place. That's what a smart person does. "

The butler mentally shook his head, the absurd plan of his widowed mistress stirring an unsettling disturbance in his heart. He wondered what happened to the young, cheerful little girl who once had so much love to give and share that just by being in her presence warmed the hearts of the people of Mirkinshire.

"Perhaps," the butler thought, "it was that very kindness that led her to this pitiful state."

He, then making up his mind, looked at the bassinet and said, "I will do anything to help you, madam."

The lady in red, pleased with her servant, gave a slight nod and handed him three bags of silver, "You know what to do Markel. Don't disappoint me."

The old butler picked up the baby from the bassinet and carried the little bundle on his arm, limping away from the mansion, towards a stream. He gently placed the baby in a basket and pushed it towards the stream, "I'm sorry little girl, this is all this old man can do to help you. May the protector save you and give you a happy life."

In the haunting silence of the night, in the month of Azi, the heir to Duke Mirkinshire was declared dead. However, on the other side of the shore, where the magical creatures thrived, an old lady came across a baby floating in the river as if she were a miracle from Azi herself. And so, with a grateful heart, she carried the little bundle to her cottage.