Vengeance: The Origin of a Liar

Echoes of the Past

Princess Amelia sat in her dimly lit room, her tears staining the silk pillow cradled in her lap. The weight of recent events pressed heavily on her chest, and the quiet emptiness of the palace only made it worse. A tub of Ice cream and plays from the Jester of Joy wouldn't help her this wasn't just about teenage boys but one thing, she was a weakling and the people around her probaly will always be Infront of her, miles and miles Infront

She glanced toward her bedside table, where a small portrait of her late mother rested. The woman in the picture smiled warmly, her golden tiara catching the light like a halo.

"Mother," Amelia whispered, her voice trembling. "I wish you were here. You'd know what to do."

"Dad would've never spoke to me like that, or even lied to me so easily."

Hoping to find comfort, she rose and approached the portrait. With a gentle touch, she ran her fingers over the painted surface. For a brief moment, it felt as though her mother's kind violet eyes were truly gazing back at her. Her smile even seemed real. A sudden warmth spread through Amelia's fingertips, glowing faintly against the canvas. Startled, she stepped back, clutching her hand to her chest.

"What... was that?" she murmured, her heart pounding. But the glow faded as quickly as it had appeared, leaving her staring at the still, lifeless image.

Curiosity replacing her tears, Amelia reached out again. This time, she gripped the edges of the frame and carefully lifted it off the wall. As the frame came free, a soft click echoed through the room. Behind the portrait, where she expected nothing but stone, was a small, square opening.

Her breath hitched. "What is this?"

Inside the hole lay an ornate scroll, bound with a crimson ribbon, protected by a delicate glass dome. Dust clung to the edges of the enclosure, but the scroll itself appeared untouched by time. Intricate carvings surrounded the hole, forming symbols she couldn't quite understand.

Amelia hesitated for only a moment before reaching inside. The glass dome was surprisingly cool to the touch, but it came away easily, revealing the scroll. She held it in her hands, the weight of it strangely heavy for its size.

She unraveled the ribbon, her fingers trembling as she unrolled the parchment. Ancient script danced across the page, shimmering faintly in the dim light. Though she couldn't read the language, the symbols stirred something deep within her—a memory she couldn't quite grasp, a connection to something older than herself.

"What is this...?" she whispered again, her voice echoing softly in the quiet room.

At the bottom of the scroll was a single, readable line in her own language:

"To awaken what has been lost, the bearer must find the Three Keys and face the Truth."

The thing that came to mind was her 3 siblings she knew about but did not live In the castle with her.

Amelia's pulse quickened. The glow returned to her hands, faint at first but steadily growing brighter as if the scroll was reacting to her. She stumbled backward, clutching it tightly as questions flooded her mind.

What did this mean? What truth? And why had her mother hidden this? She started thinking about every possible explanation. What If this was hidden by her father?

The tears from earlier returned, but this time they were tears of confusion and determination. Amelia knew one thing for certain—this was no coincidence. The scroll was meant for her, and whatever secret it held, she had to uncover it.

Placing the scroll carefully on her desk, she looked at her mother's portrait once more. The warm smile in the painting now felt like a promise, a silent encouragement. Than out of nowhere a glass shattered.