Chereads / Oath of Being Temporally Yours / Chapter 1 - Embers of Redemption

Oath of Being Temporally Yours

Han_Sirang
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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Embers of Redemption

Embercliff Citadel...

The very name conjured images of flickering embers against a rugged cliff face, symbolizing the fiery spirit and the indomitable will that had once defined the duchy of Bethel. A place that had protected the land with their lives, yet now, it stood like a collapsing ruin of its former glory.

Within the citadel's once opulent chambers, a haunting stillness prevailed. The tapestries that adorned the walls now lay tattered, their once vivid hues faded like memories slipping into the oblivion of time. Cobwebs draped the grandeur in veils of ethereal gray, lending an air of melancholy to the once bustling halls.

In the heart of the citadel, a chamber held both the remnants of past glory and the weight of sorrow. It was here that Andromeda, the deposed grand duchess, found herself now, amidst the ruinous vestiges of her empire. Everything here was mirroring the desolation that consumed her heart.

With an air of haunting detachment, she sat upon a weathered chair, her morning robes draping over her like a shroud of sorrow. Once elegant garment now bore the marks of neglect and disarray. The rich, dark fabric, woven with intricate patterns and adorned with golden trim, had lost its luster over the years of abandonment. Threads frayed at the edges, and patches of dust clung to the once majestic garment, reminiscent of the desolation that had befallen the grand duchess.

Her gaze was distant, lost in the haunting memories that surrounded her. How many years had it been since she was forced to leave her home? Her throne, her memories of her years of powers and iron will...

The current grand duke had seemingly abandoned this fortress and build a new one. Even the surrounding markets and houses were demolished to separate them. How bitter were they? And just how much in hurry they were to erase them from the pages of their history, even when Bethels were part of royal lineage and even their 'Queen' was a Bethel. Or perhaps no, since her 'sister', that woman was one of the people behind their ruin.

But...

Andromeda seemed to not care much for it. After all the end was nearing. This madness that had consumed her life was finally going to reach its end. As Andromeda saw the dim lights in the distance, she rolled her wooden wheelchair towards the dark wood bed with weary grace, the wheels creaked in harmony with the weight of her emotions. Her feet, no longer held the life, taken away by those whom she had given all her life to. The crown had left her in this state. But even that thought invoked no fury in her stone cold heart. The flames had died down, only leaving dying embers.

She stopped her wheelchair near the bed, as if she had arrived at her destination, a destination that she had started to see only when it was far too late.

Her consort, Erhard Henry Wilhelm, the fallen king of Poiesis, lay lifeless upon the bed, his face still veiled in darkness as it had always been. Beside him, the grand duchess appeared like an ethereal wraith. Her heart ached as she held his cold, stiff hand in her delicate grasp. Her hands have always been rough but they looked even worse now, bony and wrinkled.

Those hands that had ruined so many and slaughtered thousands now trembled with fragility, their once commanding grip reduced to a gentle touch. The roughness of her palms spoke of the hardships she had endured, the sacrifices she had taken and the fierce determination that had driven her forward. They were hands that had held weapons and comforted the wounded, hands that had protected her kingdom and...

The same hands that brought ruin and despair to Erhard, again and again.

'Erhard…' Her heart bled that name.

Will she ever have the chance to beg for his forgiveness? After all, their moment of farewell had come so silently. He was always such a graceful person and he was so, even in his death.

Even though the man was dead, she still found solace in the touch of his hand. The man, who was once so vibrant with life even in the misery she brought upon him, now laid stilled in the cold grasp of death. The memories of their shared journey, the love she had discovered too late, danced like ghosts in the corners of her mind.

In the dim light that filtered through the broken windows, the grand duchess whispered with a voice laden with grief and bitterness, "Come sooner, you wretched bastards. I am waiting." Her words carried a bitter defiance, a final show of her unyielding spirit in the face of despair as her sunken hazel eyes glinted with hatred.

She took a deep breath, tasting death on the tip of her tongue, the looming phantom peeking from the corners when she wasn't looking. Did she feel it because her time was nearing too? Her men, the loyal soldiers who had stood by her side, lay motionless in other rooms of the dilapidated castle, their lives extinguished by her own hands but she had no regrets. After all, it was better to die by her hand than get humiliated in front of those people. They didn't deserve to be treated like criminals.

So she had gracefully bestowed death upon them but even as she remained unmoving like force of nature. The loss of her men, had cut through her heart like a searing wound.

'They were innocent. They were your people.' the words were pointed at the echo of the King, her king who had failed her. But soon, she would see him again. And even if she was going to die, it wasn't going to end like that. She was no longer afraid.

After all, everyone she cherished was dead, except her.

She placed her other hand on the bed and notice the stated even the bed was in. The once luxurious bed linens now bore the signs of neglect, like faded memories of comfort now lost to time. How long had it been since she had stopped caring about these things. She looked at the room with her sunken eyes that still held embers.

The air was still, as if it held its breath in reverence for the last moments of grand duchess and the fallen king, mourning in the silence at the loss of what once was.

As she cradled the cold hand of her fallen king, the man she had come to love too late, Andromeda felt a stirring of emotions that defied the bounds of time. She yearned for his warmth. But it was okay. She would see him soon in the after life.

"Soon…I will see you soon. This time, I won't let you escape my grasp." Her words sounded incoherent as she leaned down to kiss the burnt hand of the man she adored. His whole body bore the severe burns from the attack of fire elementalist of King's men.

Her gaze fell onto the mirror and she looked at her reflection. She rolled her wheelchair once more with her trembling hands, lacking the strength to force the wheels to moves. She sat, looking at her reflection as if she couldn't recognize who she saw in the mirror.

Her once formidable body now lay frail and vulnerable. The elemental powers that once coursed through her veins had been cruelly sealed away by the very king she had served with loyalty. Her body was decaying like a corpse. He cheek bones sharp, her fiery red hair now dull with silver peaking out and her lips chapped.

Yet...

Amidst the haunting stillness, her spirit burned with an unyielding fire.

For weeks, Andromeda had been a fugitive, evading the relentless pursuit of the royal guards. But in her weakened state, the time for running had come to an end. The sound of heavy footsteps reverberated through the hallway outside, drawing nearer with each passing moment.

Her heart pounded in her chest, just like how it pounded before every battle. She knew that returning to duchy meant death but there was no other way and the preparations had been finally completed for her last act of revenge.

Soon King's men entered the castle.