Villain's Oath

Chapter 6

Lucien sat in the corner of the dim chamber, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. One hand gripped a glass of whiskey, the other clenched tightly into a fist on his knee.

His jaw tensed.

“Why did I kiss her?”

The question spun endlessly in his mind, loud even in the silence.

He took a slow sip, letting the burn crawl down his throat. It didn’t help.

Selene.

Her name alone made his chest tighten. 

“It wasn’t love” he muttered under his breath. 

No, it was something darker. Loneliness, maybe. Or anger. 

A need to feel anything other than the constant weight of hate pressing down on him.

He hated that her kiss still lingered on his lips. 

Hated how his body had leaned into hers, how he let it happen. 

How he kissed her back.

“Damn it” he breathed, setting the glass down with a sharp clink. 

Her voice echoed in his head. 

Her tears. 

The way she held him. 

Lucien leaned forward, elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands. 

He wanted to silence the noise in his head. But she was everywhere.

Loud footsteps echoed in the hallway, pulling Lucien out of his thoughts, he leaned back on his chair, keeping his eyes on the doorway because he already know it was.

Aric stepped into the room, his eyes angry and sharp, he walked further into the room stopping a few steps ahead of Lucien.

“Where is she, Lucien? Where’s Lyra?” Aric asked, his voice low and tense.

Lucien took a slow sip from his whiskey and placed the glass on the small table beside him. He let out a short sigh and leaned back again.

“Why come to me?” Lucien asked with a slight smirk. “Out of everyone, why me?”

“Because I know you,”Aric said, narrowing his eyes. “I know what you’re capable of.”

Lucien raised an eyebrow.

“You seem quite upset for a servant. Or is it something else?” he asked, amused.

Aric’s hands clenched into fists.

“This is about my household,” he said firmly. “She works under me. You had no right to interfere.”

“Oh Aric” he said. “I’m not dead, yet you’re already acting like this place is yours.”

He straightened.

“My staff. My household” he said, tapping his chest. “You sent my servant or should I say your conspirator or maybe even your mistress to poison me?

Aric’s eyes widened. He stepped back slightly, looking pale.

A cruel smile appeared on Lucien face.

“You..You killed her?”he asked, shocked.

Lucien gave a small shrug.

“You murdered her, Lucien!” Aric shouted. “You’ve lost your mind!”

Lucien burst into loud and bitter laughter.

He lifted his glass and took a long drink before settling it down on the side table with a soft clink. Then he stood up slowly.

“I only finished what you started” he said. “She tried to kill me. That’s on you.”

Aric clenched his fists.

“I was doing the village a favor” Aric said through gritted teeth.

Lucien took a slow step toward Aric

"A favor?" he repeated. "You betrayed your own blood for a favor? You used poison, tried to kill me in my sleep, and when that failed, you sent assassins?"

He stopped right in front of Aric, his eyes locking on Aric's.

Aric stepped back, his face pale. 

"You can’t prove that!" Aric said quickly. “You killed her!" He said voice cracking 

Lucien didn’t answer. He just smirked.

"The council will hear of this," Aric said, turning to leave.

"The council?" Lucien said, making him stop. 

"They’ll hear nothing. This is your second and final mistake, Aric. You’ll mourn your mistress quietly… or you’ll join her."

He nodded toward the door. 

"Now get out of my house.”

Aric turned to say something but stayed silent. 

He walked out without another word.

Later that night, Lucien laid on his bed staring at the dark ceiling with his eyes wide opened.

Sleep refused to come, his mind was a battlefield full of memories 

And most of them led back to Eryndor 

To who he used to be

And to her. Elira

He sighed quietly, letting the memory come.

He had just finished training with Elias after a rough morning, his muscle ached so bad he decides to take a walk in the forest which was his favorite place, a place where the world wouldn't reach him.

He was in the middle of the forest when he something caught his eyes, it was a figure in black cloak, bent near the roots of an tree.

His hand instinctively went to his sword, he moved closer to the figure quietly ready to strike if needed.

The figure stood and turned to face him making him froze

She was beautiful, but not in a loud way. It was the quiet kind of beauty that made you stop and stare.

Her hair was long and dark, falling down her back. A few strands framed her face, and her skin, warm from the sun, seemed to glow even in the shade.

But it was her eyes that held him still, it was calm and kind.

"Do you draw your sword at women now?" she asked, raising a brow. Her voice soft and smooth.

Lucien quickly lowered his blade, caught off guard. 

"I... I didn’t know who you were," he said, stumbling over his words 

"I'm Elira," she said with a warm, cheerful smile. "I'm not dangerous."

She turned back to the patch of herbs at her feet, her fingers gently sorting through the leaves and placing them into a small woven basket.

Lucien watched her for a moment, then asked, "Healer?"

She looked up and nodded. "My father is, actually. I just help when I can," she replied, focusing again on her task.

That was the first time Lucien met Elira. After that day, he kept finding reasons to return to the forest, always hoping to see her again. 

Morning broke, but the light through the window brought no peace.

Lucien didn't catch any wink of sleep he lay stiff on his bed, eyes wide open, the silence of the room pressing in on him. 

Sleep refused come no matter how hard he tried to, not after the memory of Elira.

He remembered the first time he met her, the forest, her smile, he remembers the battlefield, the roar of war and Elias’s betrayal. 

And then nothing. 

No childhood. No past. 

It was as if Eryndor had never existed at all.

With a frustrated sigh, Lucien sat up and rose to his feet, he walked to the window but sudden burst of light made him squint, forcing him to step back for a second before returning his gaze outside.

His mind churned with questions, each one heavier than the last.

“Who was I really?” he muttered under his breath. “And why does it feel like pieces of me are missing?”

He was losing himself. 

If this continued, all that would remain was Lucien Ardent, Eryndor would be gone, forgotten and erased. 

Lucien found Selene in the garden of his brother’s manor, speaking softly with the gardener. 

She wore her usual simple gown, hair tied back, her hands brushing over the leaves like she belonged there. 

As soon as she saw him approaching, she stopped the conversation 

She straightened immediately he stopped across her, and wiped her hands on a delicate towel.

“Lucien,” she said, a little breathless. “I didn’t know you were up this early.”

“I need a moment of your time, Selene,” he said, his voice flat.

Selene blinked. “A moment of my time?” she asked, clearly surprised.

Lucien moved closer to her, looking at her with tired and cold eyes, his face was pale, shadows dark under his eyes. 

“A truth you may possess,” Lucien said quietly.

Selene gave the gardener a small nod, dismissing him. Once they were alone, she turned back to Lucien, crossing her arms.

“A truth?” she asked, eyeing him. “Are you still chasing answers about the poison?”

Lucien ignored her question and stepped closer more, looking at her with his eyes sharp and focused. 

The look in his eyes made Selene straighten.

“Tell me about Eryndor,” he said.

She blinked, caught off guard. “Eryndor? Elias’s best friend? The knight who died years ago?”

Lucien gave a small nod, his face unreadable.

Selene tilted her head, confusion creeping into her voice. “Why are you asking about him? You had nothing to do with Eryndor when he was alive.”

Lucien’s voice dropped. “When did he die?” ignoring her question.

“What?” Selene asked 

“I want the exact time of his death,” he said, his voice firm and low.

Selene looked up at him, brows drawn together. She hesitated, then said quietly, 

“Everyone knows the story. It was a tragedy, a famous one. Eryndor died on the battlefield during the great war, the one you started, Lucien.” 

She paused, watching his face. 

“That was sixteen seasons ago, Lucien. Almost four years now.” Selene said

Lucien swayed slightly, like the ground had shifted beneath him. 

A war he caused? 

Four years ago? 

His chest tightened. His mind raced. 

Had Eryndor’s soul been wandering all this time… alive inside him?

“Confirm it,” Lucien said sharply, his eyes locked on hers. 

“You’re sure about the timeline?” 

“Of course I’m certain,” Selene replied, her voice firm, though his intense stare made her uneasy. 

“Aric rose in power right after that war. Elias became a hero because of the courage he showed during it. And you” she paused, searching his face, 

“you became the monster they all feared when it ended.” 

She gently reached for his hand. 

“You never cared before, Lucien. So why now? After sixteen seasons, why does it matter to you?” 

Lucien pulled his hand away without a word. His jaw clenched as he turned and walked off, ignoring her question. 

Her words echoed in his mind. 

Not only was he forgetting Eryndor

It was Lucien who had started the war but why?

And not only did Lucien have to avenge Eryndor

He now had to uncover the truth behind his death, why he was killed. 

And more importantly, wh

y the Abyss had kept his soul alive for so long.

There had to be a reason. It must be something deeper and something dark.

Lucien clenched his fists, his thoughts heavy. 

He couldn’t keep living as just Lucien Ardent, and let the past remained buried

He had to find the truth.