CHAPTER 2
Diandra fluttered her eyes open. Her vision was blurry. Her body was trembling from the cold that enveloped her. The cold water seeped into her bones. Each breath sending a sharp ache through her ribs. The silence was eerie, broken only by the faint ripple of water inside the well.
Above her, there was a rope rolled into a pulley. But it was the moon that caught her attention. It showered her with a silvery glow. It hung clear in the sky. She tilted her head slightly. Her muscles were protesting the movement.
That was when she noticed it, a wooden bucket just within her reach, and it was tied to the rope. Someone must have left it behind. But she was thankful. She didn't know why she was in the well, but she had to get out of there.
Summoning what little strength she had left, Diandra pulled at the rope, hoping that it would support her weight. She pulled and pulled until it reached its end, and she tightened her grip on the rope. Her nails digging in as she pulled. The pain in her limbs was screaming at her to stop, but she wouldn't give in. She forced herself to go upward. Inch by painful inch.
Her breathing was ragged. Her pulse was hammering in her ears. She was already dangling halfway. She swayed; her hold was about to slip, but even if her palms were burning, she continued holding on. The rope and the pulley were sturdy enough to hold her. So, it was on her to do the rest.
Diandra continued and was almost at the top. Just a few more attempts. Then, in one final desperate pull, she reached the edge of the stone. She dug her fingers in and held on for her dear life. She shoved herself off the well, and she tumbled down, almost falling face-first, but she propped her hand to catch her weight.
Then her body collapsed on the damp grass. She made it. Her chest was rising and falling from panting. Her body shuddered in exhaustion, weighing down on her.
She lay there for a moment, staring at the endless sky above. The moonlight washed over her. But it brought no warmth, nor comfort either.
Then, slowly, her senses came back. Her breathing became even. She blinked, trying to think of what happened to her. Of why she was in the well. But her mind was blank. It was empty.
Her head pounded as she forced herself to get behind the blackness that washed over her mind.
Diandra pressed her trembling hands against her temple, trying to force herself to remember. But it was like grasping at mist—fleeting, intangible. Her past was a blur, her memories fractured.
Except for three things.
She was a knight. It was a given with the armor that she was wearing. But it was dented and bloodied. The water couldn't wash them all out. Some were even stuck to her skin. She was a knight, but her sword was missing. The scabbard she had by her side was empty. But then she felt something else in her belt. She took it out.
It was a dagger. Beautiful, yet unfamiliar in her hands. It was like it didn't belong in her calloused palms. The blade shimmered under the moonlight. There were intricate patterns etched along the hilt. It was too pretty to be wielded in a fight. But the blade was convincing to be as sharp as a sword. It should have meant something to her, for it was in her possession, but it doesn't even feel natural in her grip. Still, she held on to it. It was the only thing she had besides the other things she could only remember.
Second, her name was Diandra. At least she knew what she was called.
Then, for the last. It was the most important of the three.
A promise. An oath she made.
"Protect the emperor." She mumbled, the first words she'd said.
The words echoed in her mind. Clear and undeniable. She didn't know when she made the vow or why, but it anchored in her. It gave her a purpose amid the confusion that wrapped her whole being.
She glanced down at her hands. Her fingers tightened instinctively at the dagger. She traced a finger along the edge, feeling its weight. There was an uneasy feeling that it didn't belong to her. But she'd kept it.
She sighed. Frustration was slowly creeping in on her. She knew she was a knight. She knew her name was Diandra. And she had just realized that she had a duty.
But everything else? Was a void. A total blackness or a blank canvas.
A gust of wind rustled around her, waking her up in her dazed state. Urging him that there was life beyond the dead state of her memory. She wanted to thrash around. She wanted to hammer her skull open to dig up the missing memories. Or to glue the shattered haze or to just do whatever to have something else. She was about to go crazy.
She was starting to catch her breath as panic from everything was settling in. No. She had to find answers. She had to calm herself down. Whatever happened to her, she had to gather herself. At least she knew three things. And a dagger with her. They could be clues to her missing sanity.
She had to move. She couldn't stay there, for whoever put her inside the well could have probably come back. And they might be the same person who made her lose her memory. Or it could be the impact when she fell. But there was no blood from her head. She couldn't feel any sore spot in her scalp. Only to her body.
And not just answers that she had to find.
The emperor. For there was a feeling deeply engraved inside her that he was the most important person for her. For the oath that she had vowed to someone.
Diandra struggled to stand. Her body was aching from head to toe. Every muscle was screaming in protest, but she forced herself upright. She had survived whatever happened to her. So, she had to keep being alive. She was a knight. She had to fight for herself and for the promise herself.
She was thinking that she might have been to a battle for her worn armor and exhaustion. But as she looked around, the world was calm. No ruins, no bodies, no signs of war. Just untouched beauty, as if violence never tainted the place.
It added more to her puzzled mind. She clutched the dagger tightly, its cold surface grounding her. The only things she knew for certain were her name, her being a knight, and the vow she made. Protect the emperor.
But who the hell is the emperor?
The thought almost made her stumble on the ground. It sent a chill through her body. Shouldn't she know? Shouldn't she remember the face and the name of the one she had sworn to protect?
Her head throbbed as she tried to force the memories to resurface again. But they remained just out of reach. Pieces of puzzle that refused to fit together.
She let out a shaky breath as she rubbed her head to calm the pounding.
Ignoring the pain, she took a step forward, uncertain of where she was going, but she knew that she shouldn't stay there. Because whether the battle had truly happened or not, one thing was for sure—someone had left her to die in that well. And she wouldn't stick around to be a target again.