One hundred and fifty years ago, The Witch of Despair fell into a slumber. Fires burnt like raging hellfire as kingdoms fell and mountains turned to plains, her agonized scream and cry over her betrayal resounded throughout the Isles. And her final wish, all but forgotten to the people of the Abyss.
A child born from the wish of a broken down soul enters the world, he was an innocent child who dreams of peace and love. A child who wanted nothing more than a family who would love him as he is. They say that when you stare at the Abyss, it stares back, but when one sets their gazes down at Clailip Diancia, one would find one's self unable to resist.
To resist what, you ask? To resist the urge to play with those malleable pudgy cheeks and spoil this adorable, harmless, sweetie, of a little boy.
Unfortunately, fire burns, and trees are flammable. Yet, this boy, soft as can be, bumbles his way through the Eastern Isles, trying to find a family that once was his.
"I can't believe my bad luck managed to worm its way into this world too..."
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