Sealed in the Hands of Fate

  The sky was clear as day, the clouds slowly moved as if they were walking on the sea.

  “Teotro!” A voice called out. It sounded like a woman. Her voice echoed through my ears.

  It was like a soft peak that reached my ear.

  “Young Master!” The voice called out again. A Voice?

  I suddenly looked at the direction where the voice was. I flinched as the sunlight hit my face, making me cover my face. As I slowly put my hand down, it uncovered a young, beautiful woman across me.

  Her face looked disappointed as her lips pouted. The young woman let out a breath and id her right hand on her forehead, scrunching it.

  I blinked a few times.

  “It seems that you are out of it.” She said with her disappointed tone. I realized I was inside a gazebo.

  It was as white as pure yin, surrounded by an array of botanical varieties.

  From viridescent to lemon, then inserted between them was like a deep-colored ruby rose.

  I looked back at her. Her long curly vermillion hair danced with the wind, deep hazel pupils like a mix of nature, and eyes that were shaped like an almond.

  In fact, many individuals were in awe of how perfect she looked, as if she were a doll.

  “Just had a headache,” I said. She looked at me with worry.

  “Well, if so, I might as well take my leave.” She said as she stood up from her seat.

  “It was a pleasure meeting you again, Young Master.” She bowed, slowly turned her back at me and left the gazebo in the opposite direction.

  As I saw her walk in the far distance, my expression contorted in annoyance.

  Josephina Daphnie Karieve Rozeveil, the only daughter to the Duke Rozeveil. Lady Josephina is quite a sympathetic dy.

  It felt humiliating for her to look at me with those worried eyes.

  But we can’t bme her for such things; we are all human, after all.

  We may control some feelings, but some are just involuntary actions driven by our instincts.

  She was indeed a pleasing young woman, every man craved her.

  But, quite a shame. She was just every woman to me, a tool, a woman to function to help me in my quest.

  And what is this quest of mine?

  To get revenge on Mr. Crown Prince, for him to bow down and beg for forgiveness.

  I could never forget that day, the csh between the Imperial and Empire.

  It was a dreary night that day. The blue moon shone brighter than ever.

  The sounds of cshing swords echoed through the wind, mingling with the howls of people as the crowd slowly disappeared and the intense crackling of a roaring bze swallowed the city bit by bit.

  I stood high on the cold red carpet, 4 meters apart from my enemy.

  His deep blue eyes gleamed with determination, while my Nordic eyes gred with hatred.

  Sweat continued to run down my body, my head started to feel dizzy, and my heart pounded.

  My enemy continued to exhale heavily every minute.

  The hall, once capable of captivating people, now y in ruins, filled only with destruction and despair.

  The blue walls bore streaks of red, and opulent dispys y shattered on the red carpet.

  Cracks marred the tall windows, and gss shards littered the room, reflecting the moonlight.

  The man held his golden sword aloft, pointing it directly at me.

  "Are you willing to accept your fate, or will you admit defeat?" he asked.

  I didn't move an inch; my long red cape continued to dance in the cold wind, and the golden chains of my scabbard chimed.

  I tilted my head slightly to the left, a grin forming on my lips.

  "How kind of you to ask," I replied.

  His hand, gripping his sword, started to tremble, causing him to lower it.

  "I never wanted this," his voice cracked, guilt evident in his gaze.

  My dry cackle echoed through the empty hall. "Yet you chose this," I remarked.

  “I don’t believe it.” He spoke in a hoarse voice. My smile disappeared and I intensely stared at him.

  “Isn’t it quite bsphemous for you not to believe the fate that the gods bestowed to you?” My tone hinted with sarcasm.

  I glowered at him, firmly gripping at the end handle of my sheathed rapier.

  There was only complete silence.

  Only the roars of the wind can be heard in the hall.

  But the silence was quickly broken off, as a gasp echoed through the hall. My eyes widened.

  I slowly turned my head behind me and it revealed a man in a white robe.

  My eyes looked down to my right side. His short dagger was pierced in my side. Blood was dripping out.

  He thrusted the dagger in deeper, making me gasp again. As he pulled out his dagger, the moonlight’s shine reflected off his bde.

  I suddenly dropped down on the carpet, clutching to my blooded side. I looked up at him, my eyes full with anguish.

  My enemy was frozen in pce, as if he did not anticipate this.

  “What have you done Reverend Cleo?!” His voice was full of rage.

  “I was just helping his Royal Highness.” The Bishop sneered.

  “Coward.” I mumbled. The man slowly ran up to me. As he got nearer, I shouted.

  “You fucking coward.” He halted.

  “No he was not-”

  “You and your fucking excuses.” My tone weary.

  His whole body started to shake, staring at me with guilt once again.

  “Please Teotro let me help-”

  “Don’t pity me Aedeide. I don’t need it from a craven like you.” I firmly said.

  I gred at him again before looking down at the carpet.

  “Let me die in fucking piece. It’s what you want after all.” I spoke in a quiet tone.

  Adeide did not move an inch. I could still feel his eyes on me.

  “But this.. Isn’t what I wanted.” His voice pinched.

  I remained quiet, my breath became heavier, and my eyes started to blur.

  Before my eyes shut, He broke the silence.

  “Fine. I’ll.. Leave.” His tone soft, with a hint of slight pause in his voice.

  After that, I woke up in my bed. My butler, Hero, was tending to me.

  Those nights when I tried to sleep were unbearable.

  My thoughts were filled only with nightmares. I felt repeatedly stabbed until the sun rose.

  However, I should also thank that night—the night when I discovered the book I am currently holding.

  It looked old yet somewhat quaint. It was unpredictable but contained many contexts in which my fate was written.

  “Hero!” I shouted, moving too much and causing my wound to reopen. My butler did not reply; only silence greeted me.

  I reached for my bedside and stood up, fighting through the pain, my hand clutching my side.

  As I slowly made my way toward the door, my right foot collided with an object, causing me to stumble onto the floor.

  Luckily, my forearm saved my face from hitting the ground, though I couldn't help but moan from the pain.

  “Shit,” I groaned, gncing back to my right where I had hit the object.

  I furrowed my brow. A book? Why is there a book on the floor?

  I struggled to sit up on the chilly marble floor, feeling my wound throbbing sharply.

  My left hand clutched my side while my right hand reached for the unidentifiable book.

  “I don’t remember this book,” I muttered as I examined its back and front.

  After all, I was only interested in novels pertaining to world theories and death.

  But this book looked like it might contain more about hierarchies or perhaps the true successor.

  True Heir, it was titled. The author who wrote this book was nowhere to be found.

  My curiosity grew as I pondered how the book ended up in my room.

  Perhaps my butler was interested in such things, I thought.

  I was about to open the book when suddenly, light burst into my dark room.

  The door to my room opened and Hero was standing still, his eyes widened.

  “Young Master!” he shouted as he ran towards me.

  Ever since then, my butler stuck to me like glue, always watching me at all times.

  However, there is also one thing. I found out what the book was about.

  It wasn’t far off from what I suspected; it did talk about a rightful heir, the rightful Heir to the Primezio Imperial Order, the Kingdom of the Primilial Continent.

  It talked about the fate of the main protagonist, Aedeide III Orophelle Louise, and the tragic fate of the antagonist, Teotro Aldous Londyn Ansel.

  Antagonist? I'm a vilin? It wasn’t certain yet, but the book says it.

  We all know how it ends for every vilin—they wind up dead.

  I threw the book on the floor and started to curse under my breath. I clenched my fingers together, forming a fist.

  Thinking about it irked me even more.

  Who thought they could write my fate in a book? Such bsphemy.

  This book is rubbish. I didn’t even want to believe half of it.

  But one thing is certain: how did they know who we were?