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From atop the hill, the view of the battlefield was both awe-inspiring and terrifying. The clash of swords and shields created a deafening roar that echoed through the valley. The air was thick with the stench of death and sweat, making it almost unbearable to breathe. Amidst the chaos, the crown prince stood tall, his golden hair glinting in the sun. His eyes were fixed on the enemy army, the Delmans. With a fierce battle cry, he charged forward, his sword raised high above his head, and his troops followed closely behind him, ready to face whatever lay ahead on the battlefield.
The clash was brutal, with both sides pushing against each other in a desperate struggle for victory. The crown prince fought with valor and skill, his blade slicing through the enemy ranks with ease. He dodged and parried blows that came at him from all directions, never once faltering in his resolve.
As the battle raged on, the crown prince's annoyance grew towards the enemy, who seemed to be a never-ending pain in his ass. He cursed under his breath, promising to make them pay for every drop of blood spilled. His frustration only fueled his determination to lead his troops to victory, and he continued to give clear and concise directions, strategizing every move in his head.
Despite the overwhelming number of enemies, the crown prince's combat skills were unmatched. It was clear that the prince's body was well accustomed to the intense fighting. His movements were swift and precise, his reflexes sharp and unyielding. Even as he fought tirelessly, he remained calm and focused, his mind working quickly to assess the situation and strategize his next move.
His soldiers looked on in awe as he single-handedly pushed back the enemy forces. With every swing of his sword, he vented his anger and frustration, crushing his enemies underfoot. With each passing moment, it became increasingly clear that victory would be theirs if they continued to follow their leader's lead. And so, they fought on, with the crown prince at their helm, driving back their enemies with a fierce determination that left no room for doubt or hesitation.
After seven years of being in constant battle and war, the prince did not falter or flinch. He refused to back down or compromise on his values, rolling like a dog through the battlefield and leaving behind a trail of defeated foes. Though the war had taken its toll on him physically and emotionally, he continued to lead his troops to victory every time, like a true leader.
But as the battle drew on, he couldn't help but wonder when it would all end. He had longed for peace and quiet for so long that he could barely remember what it felt like. He was so used to violence that it became an inseparable part of him.
The thought of being able to rest without the need to wield his sword was a distant dream, enough to be unreachable. He had fought countless battles and faced numerous enemies, each one leaving him more exhausted than the last, but the weariness in his bones and the scars on his skin reminded him that he was only human. As much as he wanted to live as such, he persisted because he had vowed to keep his promise to his deceased mother, the first empress.
Until he became the perfect Emperor she wished him to be, he vowed to never give up, no matter how difficult the journey may be. It was a promise that kept him going, even in the darkest of times. For her, he shall continue through hell alone until the day hell freezes over and he can finally lay down his sword and rest in peace.
The fighting continued, with the clash of swords and the screams of the wounded filling the air. He had lost count of how many enemies he had slain and how many times he had narrowly escaped death. The exhaustion was taking its toll on him; his arms were heavy, and his movements were slowing down. But he knew he couldn't give up now, not when victory was within reach. He took a deep breath and charged forward, determined to end the battle once and for all.
Suddenly, he saw sharp movement to his left and instinctively turned to face the threat. One of his soldiers attacked him, taking him off guard. He had no time to react as the soldier's blade pierced through his armor, leaving him gasping for air and struggling to stay on his feet. Despite the pain and weakness, he managed to pull out his own sword and strike back, killing the traitor with one swift blow.
The adrenaline rush faded quickly, though, and he stumbled to the ground, clutching his side where the blade had pierced him. He knew he needed medical attention soon, or else he would bleed out to death.
Just as he was about to succumb to his injury, he heard the sound of reinforcements coming. He looked up and saw a group of soldiers from his own army rushing towards him. Relieved, he closed his eyes briefly, knowing that he was safe now. As they approached him, he tried to stand up, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He felt the pain intensify and his strength drain rapidly. The wound was much worse than he thought, and he could feel the blood seeping out of him.
He clutched onto his sword tightly, using it as a crutch to prop himself up. The soldiers rushed towards him, but their movements seemed slow and distant as he fought to stay conscious. As they reached him, his grip on the sword loosened, and he collapsed into their arms, gasping for air. He felt himself slipping away but fought to stay awake for just a little while longer.
''We need medical help!" was the last thing he heard before his vision faded to black. His body went limp in the arms of the soldiers, who quickly carried him away to the nearest tent with medical assistance.
While unconscious, he felt a gentle touch, and in his drowsy state, he thought it was the cool breeze blowing through the campsite. However, as he started to regain consciousness, the touch grew more distinct, and he realized it was a gentle hand stroking his face gently. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the bright sunlight blinding him from above.
As his eyes adjusted, he saw a figure with magenta-like hair bent over him, their delicate fingers still stroking his cheek with tenderness.
He couldn't see her face clearly. He blinked a few times, trying to adjust his vision, but it remained blurry. As he lay there, still disoriented, he noticed the warmth on his skin. Her figure was illuminated by the sun from behind, making her glow like an ethereal goddess.
He couldn't help but be awestruck by the unexpected sight and wonder if he was hallucinating. As he tried to say something, words failed him, and he succumbed again to his weakened state.
How did he get here? Who was she?
She continued to trace his face with her fingers, soothing him. Her delicate finger moved from his jawline to his hair, and she played with his golden strands, twirling them around her fingers. He closed his eyes, feeling comforted by her touch. Despite the chaos and violence that had just consumed his life moments ago, he let himself relax in her presence. He, who was always on guard around others, found solace in her gentle caress.
"Am I dead?" he finally asked, feeling confused, for this sweet paradise felt alien to him. He looked around and saw palm trees swaying gently in the breeze and beautiful flower fields stretching out before them. It was like nothing he had ever seen before, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him in this idyllic setting.
It all felt too perfect to be real.
The girl smiled softly at him and shook her head. "No, not yet," she replied, tracing his cheekbones lightly with her fingertips. "You still have much more life to live." Her voice was like a melodious song, and he found himself drawn to her comforting presence. He realized that maybe he was exactly where he needed to be in that moment, with her. It was as if all his worries had melted away under the sound of her voice. It felt like he could listen to her speak forever, and never get tired of listening to it. He wondered if this was what heaven sounded like.
He turned towards her and asked again, "Who are you?" and she smiled softly, knowing the question wasn't meant to be offensive but still finding it silly. "I'm your wife, silly," she chuckled, her tone filled with love and amusement.
Okay, that caught him off guard. His mind raced as he tried to process the information. He had no recollection of being married, let alone to this beautiful woman in front of him. As he looked at her, he realized that maybe he didn't need to remember anything else. It doesn’t sound that bad at all.
He felt a strong connection with her, as if they had known each other for a long time. He decided to trust his instincts and go along with whatever this feeling was leading him to. There’s nothing to lose anyway.
He closed his eyes again, feeling a sense of calm wash over him as he surrendered to the moment. He knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be. He didn't know how long he would be allowed to stay in this peaceful place, but for now, he was grateful for the moment of respite from the chaos of his daily life. The gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers, allowing him to fully immerse in the moment.
''Mama! Papa?'' He heard a little girl's voice calling, which snapped him out of his daze. He looked around, trying to locate the source of the sound. Then he saw her—a little girl with curly blond hair and bright red eyes—running towards them.
As she got closer, he felt a pang of familiarity and warmth in his chest, as if he had known her before. She looked so much like him. The little girl had the same bright red eyes and gold like hair, as he did.
He couldn't believe or process what he was seeing. Could she be his daughter? He didn't know what to say or do, and the resemblance was too uncanny to ignore. As she got even closer, he noticed that she also had his smile and the same dimples on her cheeks. It was like looking at a younger version of himself in female form. He was both amazed and terrified at the same time. What did this mean for him?
''Papa, look what Judy made!'' The sudden interruption brought him back to reality. He turned to her and saw his supposed daughter holding the flower crown she had made with a big proud smile on her face.
Despite his confusion, Callisto couldn't help but smile at the child's innocence and joy. He took the flower crown from her little hands and placed it on her head, making the little girl giggle in delight.
It was a small moment of happiness, but it filled his heart with a fluffy feeling, like a warm cloud that had settled in his chest.
"Is this what having a family of your own feels like?' He thought back to his childhood, trying to remember if he had ever felt this happy before.
The man felt his heart beat like crazy. It was a happy moment for him; seeing the innocence and joy of his child reminded him of simpler times in life. Of the times he wished for this to be true.
As he watched the little girl skip away, he realized how much he longed for a family of his own. He never thought he could have children in this cruel world, but seeing his daughter's happiness made him believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for him to start a family and to be happy.
For now, he decided to appreciate this blissful moment, knowing that it was a glimpse into what could be possible in the future. But then, as he was lost in thought, his daughter suddenly wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace.
He was taken aback at first, but quickly melted into the hug. Her tiny arms felt like they were squeezing all of his worries away. He hugged her back, feeling a surge of love and protectiveness toward her. ''Judy is going to miss Papa, but Judy can wait until she meets Papa again.''
He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling confused by the child's words. He looked toward her mother for an explanation, but she simply smiled. Her turquois like eyes watching them with a mixture of amusement and sadness.
"I love you, my emperor," she whispered sincerely as she too wrapped her arms around his neck. But his mind was slowly slipping away, her voice fading as he started gaining consciousness. He struggled to hold on to her and to the memory of them, but the darkness was too strong. It was becoming harder and harder to focus, and soon he was lost in a sea of confusion and darkness as he slipped away into unconsciousness once again.
He woke up groggily, disoriented, and wondering where he was and what had happened.
Instantly, he heard people calling out to him, asking if he was okay. He struggled to sit up, but something pulled him back down.
''your highness! Please don't move. You're still injured. '' A sharp pain shot through his body as he attempted to move again, reminding him of the reason why he was there in the first place. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to push through the pain and regain some of his strength.
Cedric was standing by his bedside, looking at him with concern etched on his face. He explained that he needed to rest and allow his wounds to heal properly. But Callisto just wanted to be alone. He couldn't deal with the constant attention and fussing from his attendants. All he wanted now was silence and solitude.
"Cedric," he said, "I appreciate your concern, but please leave me be. I need some time to myself." Cedric hesitated for a moment before nodding and slowly making his way out of the room.
As Callisto sat alone in his tent, he tightly shut his eyes, and the tears he had been holding back finally flowed freely down his cheeks. A broken laugh escaped his lips as he realized how much fate liked to play with him, cruelly orchestrating his every move. Every time he thought he had found moments of peace; fate would come along and snatch it away from him with another twist of its sadistic game. He couldn't help but wonder if he was just a pawn in a larger scheme or if fate had a personal vendetta against him. 'Yeah, maybe that's it.' he thought.
He had been spending his life on the battlefield, fighting for a cause he wasn't even sure he believed in anymore. The constant uncertainty and danger had left him feeling numb and detached from the world around him.
But the dream of having his own loving family was so sweet, like a beacon of hope in the darkness. He longed for a wife who would stand by him through thick and thin, the kind of woman who would understand his struggles and love him unconditionally. He wanted someone who could match his own strength and determination. He wanted a partner who would not only support him but also challenge him to be better. He didn't want a damsel in distress; he wanted a warrior princess. Someone who would fight alongside him on the battlefield of life, never giving up or backing down. Despite all the obstacles and challenges that fate might throw their way, he knew that together they could overcome anything.
He dreamed of having children with his empress and raising them to be strong and resilient like their parents. He wanted to teach them the value of hard work and perseverance, to instill in them a sense of hope and optimism in even the darkest of times. He wanted to be there for them, to guide them through life's ups and downs, and to show them that anything is possible with determination and his support. Above all, he wanted his children to know that they were loved unconditionally, no matter what.
It seemed like an impossible dream, but he couldn't help holding onto it. Perhaps one day, fate would finally smile on him and grant him what his heart truly desired.
huh! Who was he lying to?
He knew deep down that he wasn't in a position to love and be loved. The emotional scars of war ran too deep, and he struggled to connect with people on any meaningful level. He wondered if it was even fair to bring someone into his tumultuous world, where danger lurked around every corner.
He wasn't dumb; he knew that if he ever took an interest in a woman, she would inevitably become a target for his enemies. The second empress wouldn’t spare her either.
His stepmother only added to the difficulties he faced in his already complicated life.
Maybe it was better to just accept his fate as a loner and forget about the pipe dream of a family.
Now, it seemed that even his dream was just a cruel tease, a false hope that fate had dangled in front of him before snatching it away. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and he couldn't help but feel angry and betrayed.
How could fate be so heartless? He knew he had to pick himself up and keep fighting; he was the crown prince, for god's sake! But in that moment, all he wanted to do was curl up and give up on everything.
But he didn't.
He continued on like nothing ever happened, and the years passed. He threw himself into his duties as crown prince, focusing all his energy on winning the war and bringing peace to the empire. He buried his feelings deep down, refusing to let them distract him from his responsibilities. And though there were moments when the pain of his past threatened to overwhelm him, he never let it show.
He strategized with his generals, rallied his troops, and led them into battle with fierce determination. And finally, after many long years of strife, victory was theirs. The enemy was defeated, the empire was safe once again, and he had fulfilled his duty as crown prince.
As a reward for his hard work and dedication to the kingdom, a homecoming banquet was held for him. He sat at the head of the long table, surrounded by many nobles, high aristocracies and loyal supporters. The room was filled with laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses as everyone toasted to his success.
But as he looked around at the smiling faces, he couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness inside. He had achieved everything he set out to do, but at what cost? He had sacrificed his own happiness, life, and efforts for the sake of peace, and now he didn't know who he was anymore. Was he still the same person he was before the war? Or had he changed into someone unrecognizable? These thoughts weighed heavily on his mind as the night wore on, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing from his life.
Despite the celebration and the adoration of his people, he couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness and isolation. He had accomplished his duty, but at what price? Would he ever be able to find true happiness and fulfillment again? Only time will tell.
but he didn't have to wait for long, as fate rewards those who suffered long enough. ...
At his half-brother’s (the second prince's) birthday banquet, a scandal erupted as he dragged the dead body of an assassin with him to the banquet hall. The once peaceful and joyous atmosphere quickly turned into chaos as the guests began to panic and scatter. Amidst the confusion, he stood still, holding the bloodied sword in his other hand.
He looked towards his stepbrother and the second empress, who were staring at him with a mix of fear and shock. He exchanged a few sarcastic words with them before he raised his sword and stabbed the assassin it in front of his stepmother's horrified eyes. The room fell silent as he withdrew the blade and stepped back, leaving the lifeless body at his stepbrother's feet.
A sinister smile played on his lips as he turned around and left the room, knowing that they would lay low for now if they cherished their lives.
He walked out of the hall to the maze garden, feeling an intense sense of power and satisfaction. The cool breeze brushed against his face, bringing with it the fragrance of blooming flowers from the nearby gardens. He took a deep breath, savoring the sweet scent and reveling in his newfound dominance over the battle of succession.
The events that had just unfolded at the banquet hall weighed heavily on his mind, and he felt his frustration rise again. How dare his brother sit on the throne that was rightfully his? He had worked hard to earn the respect of the people, and now his stepbrother sits on it like it belongs to him? That fucker can’t even maintain eye contact with him for five seconds, and he wants to take the throne.
But he knew that his stepmother had been influencing his father's decisions for so long. He would have to devise a new plan to gain the favor of the emperor and remove his stepbrother from the succession battle definitively.
He knew what he had to do, no matter how ruthless it seemed. He had to take matters into his own hands and claim what was rightfully his. He had already plotted his revenge and all he had to do was wait for the perfect opportunity to strike. For now, he pushed these thoughts aside and focused on enjoying his earlier show.
As he wandered through the winding paths of the garden and was engrossed in his thoughts, he heard a mysterious rustling sound behind him, causing him to turn around abruptly. His hand instinctively reached for the hilt of his sword, drawing it from its scabbard in a swift and fluid motion. He held the sword to the person's throat, ready to cut his head off his shoulder, but froze when he took a good look at the figure in front of him.
It was someone he had never seen before but seemed somehow familiar. Her magenta curls swayed gently in the breeze, catching his attention. It was a mesmerizing sight, almost enough to make him forget the danger that may be lurking around him.
As he lowered his guard, the sword dropped from his hand as he stared into her mesmerizing eyes, feeling as though the world around him was fading away.
His red eyes met her turquoise ones, and for a brief moment, everything stopped. He couldn't explain it, but something about her gaze made him feel as though he had known her forever.
As if they had met in a past life or in a distant dream-
Just like a lie, he remembered what had been buried deep inside his memories—something that he had tried to forget for so long. He realized that this woman was the missing piece of his puzzle, and he knew that he could not let her go.
Maybe fate finally smiled his way, for he had stumbled upon the one person who could change everything.