Chapter 26 - Chapter 3.6: Buried Memories

𝟑.𝟔: Buried memories

𝐓he noblemen's leisure hall was cloaked in uneasy stillness.

It had always been lively there—especially on days when a controversial topic stirred among the seated aristocrats. Laughter, heated debates, the clink of goblets—it was a chamber known for sound. But today, it was deserted.

And the silence… felt wrong. Suffocating.

Nestled far from the bustling heart of the palace, the room should have been serene. Instead, the velvet curtains hung too still, like a breath held too long. Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows in timid rays, casting fragmented rainbows across the cold marble floor. Even the air felt reluctant to move, as if it too feared what might be said.

A few paces away from the grand oak doors, Luke and Lucas stood shoulder to shoulder, though the tension between them made it feel like a chasm stretched in the space between.

Their voices were low. Sharp. Biting.

Luke's expression was thunderous—his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed like a wolf ready to snap. He had the look of someone barely holding himself together.

Lucas, ever the calm one between them, stood tall and unreadable, arms crossed, and head tilted slightly as he murmured measured replies.

Then Lucas said something—something quiet, but piercing.

It made Luke falter. His glare slipped, confusion briefly flickering across his face. The words hung between them like smoke.

And that's when Elysia walked in.

They didn't see her at first.

But once they did—they froze.

She approached slowly, each step deliberate, her dark blue gown whispering against the polished floor. Her back was straight, chin lifted, and there was a quiet defiance burning in her gaze. She didn't flinch or hesitate.

There was a presence to her—like a storm gathering right before it rained cats and dogs.

"What is it? What don't I remember?" She echoed Lucas' previous words.

Lucas inhaled, his stoic mask falling for a second. Luke's brows twitched upward in surprise before he quickly masked it with a scowl.

But it was there.

Relief.

Unspoken, undeniable.

She was awake.

On her feet.

Alive.

And for a heartbeat too long, neither could believe it.

Luke turned his head slightly, hiding the softness that had snuck into his eyes. The moment it was gone, his walls were back up, colder and taller than before.

Lucas took a step forward, his mouth parting to speak.

But the older twin beat him to it.

His voice cut through the air like ice against steel.

"Didn't you ever learn that it's rude to eavesdrop on people's conversations?"

Elysia met his glare without cowering.

She wouldn't this time.

"I suppose it is, Your Highness," she said smoothly. Her tone was respectful—but laced with an underlying sharpness. "But I really must know..."

"What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?"

The words hit with the force of a falling tower. Elysia never confronted anyone directly. Not like this. She was the type to smile through discomfort, to turn pain into politeness. But today, something was different.

Luke scoffed. "You're unbelievable."

She didn't back down. "All my life, I've felt it. Your hatred. Even when I tried to stay out of your way. Even when I kept my mouth shut. I heard what you said just now. About me pretending. About avoiding you. But I don't get it..."

She took a shaky breath.

"I can't understand—because I don't remember ever doing anything to deserve any of it. Your incessant bullying. Your malicious words. This forced feud in general... I don't get any of it."

For a moment, Luke's expression faltered. His glare dimmed, revealing something raw—fractured—before he turned his face away.

Elysia stepped forward, slowly, like one might approach a wounded animal.

"So please," she said quietly. "Spell it out... What did I do?"

When Luke finally looked at her again, his eyes no longer burned with rage.

They gleamed with something far more dangerous.

Hurt.

"To think you'd grow into someone this twisted," he whispered, the words trembling with restraint. "What are you trying to gain by playing dumb? Do you really expect me to believe you forgot?"

Elysia's breath caught. "I swear I—"

"You should be proud. You've managed to fool everyone. Even know-it-all Lucas."

Lucas sighed and stepped in then, tone gentler. "Elysia… just tell us honestly. Do you remember anything about Luke and I—anything at all—before you turned ten?"

She opened her mouth.

Paused.

And then—

"I…" She froze. Again.

Her mind scrambled—trying to piece together fragments that simply… weren't there. Sounds. Lights. A sensation. But no memories. Just a hollow space where her childhood should've been.

Her voice trembled. "I… What?"

'Winfred? What's going on? I don't understand…'

[ Give it a moment, Host. It will all make sense soon. ]

Winfred's words should have been comforting—assuring. But Elysia felt her composure slipping.

The main story hadn't even started yet but why was it already starting to feel like everything was crumbling and falling apart? This feeling of not being in control... Of not knowing what came next... All these sudden twists in the narrative... She hated it all.

What was she going to do if a new cliff appeared but she couldn't avoid the fall?

Her breath stuttered, and the sick sensation from earlier roared back. Her heart pounded, a frantic rhythm, and her vision began to swim.

She whimpered. 'No. No—please not again—'

Then everything happened in an instant.

She tried to back away—just one step.

But her legs buckled.

The world tilted sideways and she was sure she'd crash against the cold marble—

Until arms caught her.

Strong. Familiar. Warm.

Luke had moved before he could stop himself.

The jolt of his embrace, the nearness of him, the scent she hadn't known she remembered—the entire moment shocked her to the core.

And then—

Crash.

Foreign memories spilled in like a flood bursting through a dam. Her pupils dilated as her lips parted in gasps.

Laughter. Tiny hands grasping bigger ones. Warmth. Clumsy fingers in her hair. Luke whispering silly secrets under a blanket fort. Lucas reading storybooks in ridiculous voices that made her giggle until she hiccupped.

My cute little star, Luke had once whispered, squishing her flushed cheeks together.

Her brothers.

They'd loved her.

They'd adored her.

Once.

— — —

Narrator's perspective

Some stories are built upon others—hidden behind shadows and long-forgotten truths.

And this was one of them.

Before bitterness took root, the Aerelion twins had cherished their little sister beyond reason. Born into nobility, their lives were filled with expectation and formality. But Elysia had been their escape. Their world.

She'd trail after them in the palace gardens, stumbling over her own feet just to keep up. She'd beg to join their fencing lessons and pout when she wasn't allowed.

Especially Luke, who had never been good at hiding his feelings.

He told her daily that she was beautiful. That he'd protect her forever. And every time, she believed him.

Because back then—to those two, she wasn't a cursed child. Nor an outcast. Nor a 'murderer.'

She wasn't a whispered name on scowling lips.

She was simply Elysia.

But not even a child's love can withstand a father's neglect.

King Zachary—their father—never looked at her as he did the twins. His eyes, when they landed on her, were devoid of warmth. Every gesture, every breath she took, was a reminder of the wife he'd lost.

To make matters worse, every servant in the palace only ever acknowledged the twins. Never her.

So she began to rot. Slowly. Quietly.

It started as longing. Then envy. Then…

Bitterness.

Bitterness that bloomed like poisoned vines, twining around her soul. She couldn't hide from it. It seeped into everything.

No matter how much her brothers loved her, it wasn't enough to silence the ache in her chest. Not when her father's affection was a locked door she'd never be allowed to open.

And then came the final blow.

Zachary had planned a diplomatic voyage—months away, visiting distant kingdoms. Only Luke and Lucas were chosen to accompany him.

Not her.

"You're not old enough," he said simply, as if that explained everything.

The twins had tried to comfort her. "It's boring political stuff. You'd hate it," they said. "We'll be back before you know it."

But it wasn't enough.

Something cracked then.

"You two are nothing but hypocrites!" she had screamed, tears streaming. "I know you only spend time with me because you feel sorry for me. Because I'm the one who killed our mother!"

The words hit like daggers.

"Elysia—"

"I hate you! I've always hated you! I hope you all die on that stupid trip, so I can finally get some peace!"

Silence.

Then sobs, as she ran from the room.

She'd expected to feel powerful, finally speaking her truth.

Instead, she felt… empty.

The twins—only thirteen—had stared at the space she left behind, stunned and aching.

They left the next day, animosity in their chests.

But during the voyage, the edges of their anger dulled. They missed her. Regretted not fighting for her. Not telling her that they loved her.

But when they returned—

She was gone.

Not physically. Emotionally.

She avoided their gaze. Dodged every attempt at reconciliation. Their little sister had become a stranger. A shell.

They thought she hated them. Mocked them.

They didn't know she was ashamed. That she couldn't even look at them without hearing her own hateful words. She buried the memory so deeply it fragmented—and with it, every warm recollection that came before.

Aetheric Memory Dissociation—a rare trauma response in gifted children where a child's mind seals away memories deemed too painful to survive. Over time, the memories dissolve completely, like footprints in the tide.

And soon enough, Elysia remembered nothing of her former bond with her brothers.

As for the twins? Their resentment calcified like bones.

They were just children, too.

Children who didn't understand trauma or mental conditions. All they saw was betrayal.

"She was no sister of ours to begin with," Luke had said once, when she passed him in the hall without a glance. "If she wants to be treated like a villain, we'll treat her like one."

Lucas didn't say a word.

But he didn't stop him.

He let the bitterness fester.

He let the story change.

The damage was done. Because Elysia wasn't the only one who fractured. The twins bore their own curse:

Vindictive Memory Imprinting—a psychological condition where early emotional wounds become the very foundation of identity, solidifying into lifelong resentments. Even when those involved grow older and wiser, the original pain remains a scar. Untouchable. Unforgivable.

And so, the cycle began.

A sister who forgot.

And brothers who refused to.

—

Back in the hall, Elysia blinked back into the present, still held against Luke's chest, trembling.

The final memories had clicked back in place. Her legs wobbled. Luke still held her, motionless.

"I…" Her voice broke as she looked up at him. "I remember now."

But he said nothing.

And neither did Lucas.

Because now they knew too.

Everything had changed.

Again.

And nothing would ever be the same.

—

A/N: Sorry for the late update :(