That girl, someone raised by a witch
A silver sparrow, the “Neomaria of the inverted gravestone”
To simply kill people without emotion
That was her doctrine, the doctrine of the witch of chaos
Everything was an experiment, and also a beginning
The one to prefix “N”, a prototype assassin
Her entire family had been burned up by blue flames
The isolated girl carried a “seed of malice”
A caravan
Advancing on an eastern desert
Suddenly
Disappeared one day
That was
Her first job
The assassin’s dagger of the inverted gravestone
A girl who had her name
Etched into a gravesite by birth
That girl, a murderer doll
Today’s target, a red garbed fugitive
Who betrayed his country, and killed his sibling
The witch told her “Promptly erase him”
At the top of a cliff, she ambushes her target
The marked red clothes showed themselves
A boy who wasn’t that much older than her
For the first time some slight feelings of doubt were born in her
Her feet slipped
She fell from the cliff
Her consciousness
Gradually blurred
The boy wearing red
Drew closer
He
Had his sword drawn
A girl who had her name
Etched into a gravesite by birth
When she woke up she’d lost her memories
The girl stopped in the wasteland, on her body the traces of medical care
Eventually she was picked up by a traveling group
That was the carriage of a chivalric order who belonged to a certain country
She forgot
Both her sins and her malice
And walked along
A new life
Relying on
Her faint memories
She went by the name
Of “Mariam”
A girl who had her name
Etched into a gravesite by birth
But there’s no one now
Who knows that name