The Villain's Side of the Novel - Chapter 217: Haunting Memories

As Lysander wandered through the winding corridors of the maze, he came across a peculiar wall. To his surprise, the wall seemed to come to life, displaying vivid memories like moving paintings.

He was standing outside a room, peering through the slightly ajar door. Inside, it was a woman sitting at the edge of the bed, her face etched with worry and exhaustion. She held a small, pale hand in hers, gently stroking it as if trying to offer comfort.

On the bed lay a little girl, her young face contorted with pain. Each breath she took seemed to be a struggle, and her eyes showed the anguish she was experiencing.

Lysander’s heart ached at the sight which overwhelmed him with emotions he hadn’t confronted in a long time.

In the present moment, Lysander touched the moving memory with a trembling hand, as if trying to reach out to the little girl on the bed.

….

As Fray ventured deeper into the maze, he came across a peculiar wall that seemed to shimmer with an otherworldly glow.

As he approached, he noticed that the wall was not solid but a seemingly translucent veil that allowed him to glimpse into the past.

The sight that unfolded before him was both haunting and heart-wrenching. In the memory, a young Fray sat beside a lifeless body, his hands covered in blood, and his face contorted with grief and disbelief.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he looked at his bloodied hands, shocked and pale.

The memory played out like a scene from a long-forgotten nightmare. Fray’s heart ached as he witnessed the pain and torment of his younger self.

The weight of the memory bore down on him, and he felt as if he was reliving that moment all over again.

As he gazed at the tragic scene, the young Fray suddenly turned to find a beautiful woman with black hair standing nearby. Her black eyes were wide with shock and tears glistened in her eyes.

As Fray looked at the memory, his expression remained stoic and indifferent. painful recollection while it still tugged at his heartstrings, he refused to let it consume him.

With unwavering determination, Fray stepped forward without hesitation, passing through the shimmering wall. As he did so, the scene of the young him sitting beside the lifeless body faded away behind him, and he found himself in a new section of the maze.

…

Before Lisa’s eyes, a memory began to unfold. A young Lisa, with fiery red hair like her father’s, stood before him in a grand hall. Her two brothers, each with a mix of excitement and envy in their eyes, flanked her on either side.

The aura of anticipation filled the room as her father, a man of wisdom and strength, addressed them.

“You have been chosen by the book of Lumora,” her father’s voice echoed in the memory, his tone both proud and serious. “The legendary weapon has chosen you for a reason, Lisa. It sees something special in you, something that sets you apart.”

As Lisa heard her father’s words, she felt a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. The weight of responsibility and expectation bore down on her young shoulders.

She couldn’t understand why she was chosen over her brothers. Doubt gnawed at her heart as she questioned whether she was truly worthy of such a prestigious honor.

“From now on, you will have a lot of responsibility,” her father continued, his eyes full of love and encouragement.

Her brothers exchanged glances, and Lisa could see the mix of emotions in their eyes. They were proud of her, yet there was a tinge of jealousy, which only added to her inner turmoil.

As her father’s words continued, Lisa found herself torn between the desire to make her family proud and the fear of not living up to the expectations placed upon her. The weight of the future pressed heavily on her young heart.

“Remember, Lisa,” her father’s voice carried a reassuring warmth. “The Book of Lumora chose you for a reason. Have faith in yourself and your abilities. You are strong, and you are destined for greatness.”

The memories then sped forward, and Lisa looked at herself facing the pressures of her responsibility. She saw herself studying tirelessly, mastering the skills necessary to wield the Seraphic Blade.

But amidst her hard work and dedication, she noticed something missing. There were no memories of laughter or play, no moments of joy with friends.

She realized that she had isolated herself, consumed by her duty and the weight of her destiny.

The burden of being the chosen guardian left her little time for anything else. She had distanced herself from her family and didn’t remember having any friends.

But just as she felt overwhelmed by the memories of her responsibilities, a different memory surfaced, bringing a glimmer of warmth and joy.

She saw herself standing with Fray, Aslan, and Luke. They were laughing and joking, their camaraderie evident in their smiles.

It was as if this memory served as a lifeline, reminding her of the friends she had found along the way.

Fray, Aslan, and Luke had become her confidants, her allies, and her companions on this enigmatic journey, their presence had brought light into her life

…

As Fray continued to navigate through the corridors of the maze, he encountered a plethora of memories that seemed designed to test his resolve. innead.co

Each memory pulled at his heartstrings, reminding him of the trials he had faced and the sacrifices he had made. But Fray refused to be Some memories depicted him injured, bloodied, and surrounded by lifeless bodies, reminiscent of past battles and dangerous encounters. Other memories showed him alone, crying in moments of despair and vulnerability.

Each memory pulled at his heartstrings, reminding him of the trials he had faced and the sacrifices he had made. But Fray refused to be derailed by these haunting recollections.

The maze seemed to sense his determination, and the memories intensified, trying to break his spirit. But Fray’s resolve was unyielding. He refused to let the maze manipulate his emotions or cloud his judgment.

Among the sea of memories, one particular recollection halted him in his tracks. It was a memory of his tenth birthday, a time when he was engulfed in sadness, lying on the cold ground, tears streaming down his cheeks.

But this memory held an unexpected encounter that would forever change him.

As Fray gazed upon the memory, he saw himself approached by a teenage boy with striking blonde hair, dressed in a humble servant’s uniform.

“Joseph!?” Fray called out.

“Hello, young master,” Joseph replied, a gentle smile adorning his face.

“…” Fray remained silent, his eyes still fixed on the memory, lost in the echoes of the past. He looked up at the sky, seeking solace in its vastness.

Undeterred by Fray’s silence, Joseph continued, “Tomorrow will be better, sir.”

The words resonated with Fray. “And what if it’s not?” he questioned, his voice tinged with doubt.

Joseph’s response was unwavering, “Then you say it again tomorrow because it might be. You never know, right? At some point, tomorrow will be better.”

In the midst of the maze, Fray looked at this memory as he start to wonder why did this memory effect him. Why he was so uncomfortable?