Rita Mordio could not trust people.
It was basic. It was how she lived her life and everyone knew it.
It was... a law.
People lied. They cheated, they murdered; they stole, abandoned others, stabbed each other in the backs, and left them for dead.
The first memory she could remember was of herself at a young age, lying on her stomach and reading a book. It wasn't the average picture book for children, or short, easy-to-read novels. It was a large, thick volume on the world's blastia. How they functioned, who excavated them, when they began to be put to use, different types... It was all in that one thick, heavy book.
Of course, at the age of four (or somewhere around there - maybe she was 3 at the time? Who knows? She's a genius anyway.), the majority of the words in that volume she could not understand. She could only remember words like "blastia," "world," and "core," not forgetting the articles in between.
Anyway.
She couldn't remember anything about her parents. They were nameless, faceless, soulless beings to her. They probably died or ran off, leaving baby Rita at the entrance of Aspio. Sometimes, though, she liked to imagine that they were valiant fighters protecting their child: her father a grand mage from Aspio, exiled for a crime he did not commit, and her mother a beautiful woman from Halure he met along his search to redeem his name.
But those were just childish fairytales she conjured up until the age of eight, when she told herself no, her father left and her mother died and she was abandoned, left all alone to wait for someone else to raise her up.
Growing up in a large house in Aspio without any parents was very... annoying, to put it. The mages, at first, mostly cooed over her when she was a child. Young, cute, chubby cheeks and chubby limbs were all she was worth, with a promising future as an Aspian mage. Then, she started to read, and everything she observed got sucked into her brain like a black hole. Everyone who took care of her took notice of her rapidly growing intelligence, quickly taking pride in all of her work.
But then, slowly, one by one, her caretakers started to disappear.
Nobody knew why at first. Perhaps they had gotten into an accident while outside of the barrier? Or maybe they were lost out there? After all, it wasn't often that people left cities.
When the fourth person went missing, rumours began to spread around.
She was a demon. She killed them all. She ate them for breakfast. She lured the paranormal into the house to whisk them away, never to be seen again.
She was not someone to get close to.
They all disappeared within three months, and she was just nine years old. Ten Aspian mages, all female, mysteriously gone.
And when she needed someone the most, someone to talk to, to have a shoulder to cry on, everyone was too scared of her.
So, she put on a brave face. She took all her belongings and moved into a smaller house in the corner of the city. No one even seemed to question how a nine-year-old could manage on their own.
And it took months before all of Aspio found the reason of the mysterious disappearances - murder. Nobody wondered why it took so long to find it out. Some say it was a crazed psychopath with multi-coloured hair. Others say it was a blood-hungry man with cropped silver hair, using others for his own sickening experiments.
That didn't matter to the mages, though. They were all still weary of the young genius - some superstitious. Were those women killed because someone was after her? The young genius mage was steadily learning - no mage dared to get close, but studies were discussed between them none the less.
And then, just when she thought she'd made a friend - someone she could trust - everything went downhill.
She told her her secrets, her feelings, everything that had been bottled up inside of her for so long. She wanted to meet her parents. She wanted to become a great mage and help the world. She'd never had any friends before. There was this boy down the street...
She was her first friend, her only friend, and her best friend.
And on that friend's birthday, she gave her a gift - something she had kept with her for a long time: a golden blastia set as a choker, fitted with a crimson core.
But, what did Rita get in return?
Scars on her back and a dead "friend" - if she could be called one.
She hadn't meant to kill her. It wasn't supposed to be that way, but it happened. What else was she supposed to do when she was being attacked in her own home? Rita couldn't exactly just let her stab her back as many times as she wanted.
So what did she do? What would any mage with artes do?
She set her on fire.
She had only meant to burn her hand, her arm, just enough to release her grip on the knife, but it spread all over her. Her clothes caught on fire, her hair caught on fire, she was screaming and screaming and Rita could do nothing but stare at her in horror. It was only when the girl dropped to the floor and started rolling did Rita come to her senses; instantly, water poured over the burning girl and the flames hissed as they disappeared.
It was only because someone was passing by that something was done, and by then, Rita had lost consciousness. She would have been left for dead had they not been there, and all of Aspio would be oblivious until the citizens started looking for the girl who was not Rita Mordio.
She realized something when she woke up wrapped in bandages in an empty room.
People only get hurt when they get close to other people. They get abandoned and they get killed and they are left alone to die, watching the people they care about most turn their backs on them and walk away.
Blastia could not get up and abandon you. Blastia could not suddenly decide to stab you in the back and leave you to die. Blastia could not spread around all your secrets.
Blastia could be trusted - people could not.
Rita Mordio could not trust people, so she trusted blastia instead.