The Curse of The Oath [LingOrm]

Chapter 1: Phiengwad and La-Orduen

Lingling Kwong as "Lin Treephat" and "Phiengwad"

Orm Kornnaphat as "Aey Rinlada" , "La-Orduen" and "La-Orchan"

.

.

During an era of the Ayutthaya Kingdom, the ancient realm of the Siamese people, the sweet fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air around a beautiful Thai-style house. Maids gathered in a circle, preparing materials to craft garlands for their mistress, their laughter and whispered conversations echoing softly throughout the residence.

But what truly drew the eye were two graceful young women seated elegantly on a wooden dais. Their poise and beauty seemed like a living embodiment of an exquisite, ancient painting.

The first was LadyPhiengwad,

the epitome of a true Thai noblewoman. Her jet-black, silky hair flowed like satin down to the middle of her back. She had a delicate oval-shaped face, sharp, expressive eyes, strikingly defined brows, and a straight, prominent nose. Her full lips, reminiscent of a budding rose, completed her flawless beauty. Every gesture she made was refined and graceful, a testament to her renowned elegance. At that moment, her slender hands were meticulously stringing a garland, her care and precision evident in every movement.

Beside her sat LadyLa-Orduen,

whose radiant beauty was equally captivating. Her dark hair, tinged with a soft brown sheen, was swept into an intricate high bun adorned with a gold tiara. Her fair complexion and large, almond-shaped eyes with light brown irises sparkled with an almost otherworldly brightness. Long, thick lashes framed her gaze, adding to her allure. She wore an embroidered golden sash, symbolizing her noble status, exuding an air of opulence. Her beauty was so extraordinary that it seemed almost unmatched, making her presence unforgettable.

"P'Phiengwad, how does this garland I made look?" La-Orduen asked sweetly, holding up the freshly strung garland for her elder sister to inspect.

Phiengwad shifted her gaze from her own garland to examine La-Orduen's creation with careful attention. After a moment, she offered a warm compliment.

"No one in the royal city could craft a garland as exquisite and delicate as yours, dear La-Orduen," Phiengwad praised sincerely.

Her words brought a beaming smile to La-Orduen's face, though she replied with playful modesty, her tone as sweet as ever.

"How can I believe that? Everyone in the city says Lady Phiengwad is not only the epitome of beauty and grace but also speaks with such charm that no one could ever take offense at her words."

Phiengwad responded with a gentle, knowing smile.

"I do not speak to flatter, dear La-Orduen. When I say it is beautiful, I mean it truly. I would never utter a falsehood."

La-Orduen returned her smile, her heart brimming with delight at her elder sister's kind and genuine praise.

.

.

The two women locked eyes for what felt like an eternity.

Time seemed to slow, the world around them fading into stillness. Yet, the silence between them was not heavy or awkward; instead, it was imbued with a profound, unspoken feeling that defied words. To an outsider, the scene would appear to be nothing more than two graceful women engaged in lively conversation, their playful teasing filling the air.

But to look deeper—into the subtle intensity in their eyes—was to glimpse something far more intricate, something hidden beneath the surface. Their connection defied conventional labels. They were not bound by blood, and thus could not be called sisters. To call them mere friends felt inadequate, for the way La-Orduen's gaze lingered on Phiengwad held a tenderness and depth that transcended simple companionship. It was a feeling far beyond friendship, a connection that words could not fully capture.

La-Orduen responded to Phiengwad's compliment with a radiant smile, her expression so captivating it seemed impossible to look away.

"Yes, P'Phiengwad, you never lie to me," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth.

Then, suddenly—

"But you betrayed me!"

.

.

The voice that followed shattered the serene moment like glass.

In an instant, the sweet and gentle La-Orduen was no more. She transformed—from a woman of exquisite beauty to a specter of terror.

Her once-delicate face twisted unnaturally, her porcelain skin drained of its warm glow and turning ghostly pale. Crimson blood poured from her cheeks, streaking down her face. The once-gentle eyes, filled with kindness, now burned with a vengeful glare, as though they could pierce through the very soul of the woman before her.

Her soft, enchanting smile morphed into a sinister, cruel grin. The delicate, pale hands that had once lovingly strung jasmine garlands now lashed out with inhuman ferocity, clutching Phiengwad's neck with an impossible strength.

Phiengwad gasped, her hands clawing desperately at the icy grip tightening around her throat. The force was otherworldly, suffocating, and terrifying—a punishment from a ghost consumed by unrelenting wrath.

Phiengwad trembled violently, her entire body quaking with fear. She struggled desperately, twisting and writhing in a futile attempt to escape, but her strength was no match for the other's unyielding grip. Pain coursed through her body like a venomous tide as her breath was slowly stolen away.

She tried to cry out, to call for help, but the vice-like grip around her throat silenced her completely. The harder she fought, the more hopeless it became.

Gradually, the world around her began to darken, shadows creeping in from the edges of her vision. Despair engulfed her, an inescapable wave that drowned her spirit. Her eyes met La-Orduen's, pleading silently, as if begging for one last chance at life.

But then, everything went black. The last image Phiengwad saw vanished into the abyss, leaving only silence.

.

.

Suddenly, Lin Treephat jolted awake from a nightmare.

Her breathing was ragged, each gasp as if she were fighting for air. The rapid thumping of her heart echoed loudly in her chest, and her body was drenched in sweat. She scanned the familiar surroundings of her bedroom, her eyes eventually settling on the soft moonlight streaming through the sheer curtains.

Treephat raised a hand to her chest, feeling the frantic pounding of her heart as though it was trying to convey a message she couldn't quite grasp.

"I dreamt of them again," she murmured under her breath.

Phiengwad and La-Orduen—those two names continued to haunt Treephat's dreams, over and over. Every time she closed her eyes, she was pulled into another world, a place where she was no longer Treephat, but Lady Phiengwad.

And in that world, there was always another woman—La-Orduen.

Sometimes, the dreams were sweet and filled with love, a warmth that lingered even after she woke. But far more often, they were nightmares, dark and terrifying, leaving her shaken and restless.

This time was no different—a nightmare so vivid and horrifying that Treephat knew she wouldn't be able to close her eyes again.

...