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Far From Free: Echoes of a Forgotten Memory

A boy longing for revenge with blood painted hands. He is a cold blooded psychopath dressed in the glamorous clothes of a prince. In a planned attack during his 7th birthday, Prince Nicolas Gregory lost three important things, his friend Alisa, his innocence, and his memory of his merciless massacre of the culprits with a mysterious ability to conjure a sword. Attempting to fight his emptiness, he tries to live normally as a prince and fulfill his duties regardless of what his heart's cry. But there are things that one tainted with blood could not escape. With reminders popping out one after another and the continuous threat to his life, what will he do if his lost memory resurfaces. Will he once again wield the blades of revenge? Will he open his heart for the future? Or will he fall into deeper despair and follow the path of blood?

Grey_Petrichor · Fantasía
Sin suficientes valoraciones
33 Chs

Wake-up Call

"Meriane—," Nicolas shook the princess in an attempt to wake her up, but she only replied with an upset grunt. "Meriane, this is not your room," when he got no reaction from all of the shaking, he decided to carry her back to her room.

It was a brief walk through the cold breeze of the night. He knocked on the door several times but the room he thought was occupied earlier is now confirmed to be deserted. Tilting the unlocked knob, he let themselves in. "She might have ended at Anton's room after all," he thought as he laid down Meriane at her bed.

After fixing her bed, blanket, and all, he quickly tried to excuse himself when Meriane called him.

"Hey Nicolas," she smiled pulling the prince by his hand then wrestled him down the bed, sitting over him just like at the pond earlier. "You know, Selene taught me that an average human body is 60% percent water."

"What about that?" Nicolas wondered why that would be relevant now, his face painted with condescend since it's a fact that he already learned a long time ago. He desperately tried to free himself, but the princess made use of her entire body weight.

"Since you are 60% water too, would you let me take a sip?" Meriane blurted, pinning him down back to the bed.

"Take a sip? If you're thirsty then I'll get you a drink," Nicolas's brows almost merged out of confusion. A face he had never made since his arithmetic lessons.

Holding Meriane by her shoulder, he gently pushed the princess, but she caught him by the wrist and pinned it back to the bed. He stiffened like a dead log, her hands giving warmth to his cheeks as her soft pinkish lips touched his.

Not knowing what got to him, he let himself be swayed by the provocation. He savored their exchanged as if it was his favorite dish, letting every flavor envelop his pallet. Meriane's hand freed his wrist and caressed his hair as the other travelled from his neck and collarbone until the buttons of his shirt, popping them one by one. Her breath reeks the smell of wine as it comes in contact with Nicolas's face.

He pulled her close, wrestled her to the bed, switching positions as he bored his lips to her neck. Siezing her hands as a retaliation from earlier, heaving, he pulled them pass her head as he continued mapping the unknown. Slowly losing himself to the cardinal sin, he continued to travel south, but with his fingers inches from reaching its destination, he froze.

Taking a glimpse of himself through the mirror, he felt chills down his spine. Breathing heavily, all the things he did finally caught up to his logical brain. He knew this is wrong, a little more and he might have gone the path of no return. Regretting what he had done, he quickly retracted, but before he could fully leave the bed, Meriane caught him again by the end of his sleeve.

"Did you feel anything from that Nicolas… or all of that did not even reach your numb cold heart even a little?" she blurted grasping tightly to his sleeve.

"This is a mistake. I should have not drunk that. Let's— let's just talk tomorrow," Nicolas's heart is still beating wildly as he tried to dismiss the question.

"Answer me," she yelled, to which Nicolas replied silence. "That's what I thought, even an alcohol and aphrodisiac won't make you look my way," she let him go. "Just so you'll know I opened that box"

"Why would you do that, I told you not to"

"I'm not done talking yet," she tucked herself to bed. "I opened it because I thought it's for me, why else would you prevent me from seeing it if it's not a surprise right?" she tried to laugh but it sounded bitter and sad. "But I was wrong. As I picked it up, oh how wrong I was, with a simple glimpse of it I already knew who it was meant to be, or at least who once took possession of it," her voice began to falter as tears fell down her cheeks. "If I remember correctly, it was hers, right?"

"What do you mean hers—"

"For the second time, I'm not done talking," she again yelled. "I know it's hers because although we're still young at that time, from the other side of the table I saw how bright your smile was as you looked at her. It's a smile that I never once saw when you look at me."

Nicolas has no way to reply. He is guilty and he knows it, he thought he had masked it properly, for most of the people at least it did. Meriane is an important part of his life, with her, his life at least had a sprinkle of color. He cares for her as if she's his sister and would do anything to protect her, but as tragic as it is for the princess, this cold prince had never seen her that way.

"I'm sure it's hers because you're holding that hair clip when you got back from outside, blood stained and all. The night when you laughed at her mother as you said that she died. When you slashed your father and almost killed that boy," Meriane explained not planning to step on the breaks.

Nicolas's eyes widened as he heard what she said, "What did you say?" he felt more terror down his spine.

"Don't you remember?" Meriane's tear flowed even more, damping the blanket and her pillow. "I was also there, didn't you notice me, am I too irrelevant to be seen or you just casted me away together with your memories, sealing it at the back of your mind."

Something from the depths of Nicolas's mind is knocking profusely, its desperately trying to surface as a shear pain engulfed his head. He knows what it was, he can feel what it is, it is the memory that he so tried to forget and now he was haunted by the bottle that he forcefully sealed for so long that it's now starting to break.

"Is that why you can't answer my question? you liked her don't you," Meriane continued her woes as she covered herself with the blanket, failing to notice Nicolas who's trying so hard not to have a breakdown on the floor.

Nicolas felt like crying as the memories he tried to run from but never really forgot finally caught up to him, but still, tears does not seem to come. All he felt was his head pulsing and his chest being punctured. It hurts as he tried catching his breath while leaning against the wall.

"She's already dead Nicolas, LET HER FINALLY REST IN PEACE. I'm here for you and I'll always will, why can't you open your heart to me."

"SHUT UP, MAKE IT STOP," with the princess's continues cry and his growing confusion paired with the rapid resurfacing of his memories, he could only yell. It was painful, but it got him closer to the truth.

"She's dead, why can't you accept that," Meriane whispered.

Without any other words, Nicolas ended the conversation there. He got up, opened the door, and slammed it shut. His first impulse was to go to the old well to clear his mind, but the echo of the past is already screaming at its peak.

Any place or thing that might remind him of the past might break his sanity.

"She's already dead," it drilled in his right ear while the laughs of the man, the cause of this all can be heard on the other.

Nicolas felt dizzy as he stopped and sat on the steps. He took a deep breath. His right hand clenching his hair, while the other on his chest trying to stabilize his breathing and the pain. Amidst of his agony, two familiar voices from below are heading towards him, so, he quickly hid.