Memory of Heaven:Romance Written By Fate Through Beyond Infinity Time Chapter 287 The Unwritten Rose The Curse of Silent Gold

East Gardens, Celesthall Castle

Dawn.

A thin mist envelops the royal garden, cloaking the area in a dreamlike haze. The black and white roses glisten with dew, their petals shimring with an ethereal glow. The birds have yet to fully sing, their morning chorus lingering just beyond the horizon. Dawn hangs on the horizon like a thread of unspun gold, heralding the promise of a new day.

Fitran stands waiting among the rows of ancient stone pillars, their surfaces worn by ti and tales of old. The morning breeze carries the rich scents of damp earth and cinnamon from the gnarled old trees, creating a comforting, nostalgic atmosphere.

In the distance, soft footsteps can be heard.

Sheena approaches without a guard, her dress simpler than yesterday's: a pale white adorned with black lace at the hem. Her golden hair is loosely tied back. Today, she appears more human than doll.

Yet her eyes remain unchanged. Violet, burdened with an unseen weight.

"I... I am grateful you ca," Sheena whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation as she stood hopefully beneath the rose tree, its leaves pale with the season's chill.

"I will always co," Fitran replied firmly, his voice steady and full of conviction.

Sheena lowered her gaze, her breath catching in her throat. "Then... you must know. About . About why they have arranged to marry you. It's not just for peace..." Her voice began to strengthen, though doubt still lingered.

Fitran remained silent, allowing Sheena to find her own words, but his gaze never left her face.

"I... I am cursed," she finally said, her voice gradually swelling like a flower budding in the morning stillness. "Everything I touch... turns to gold."

Fitran tensed, watching every word Sheena spoke, his eyes sparkling with a mix of intrigue and concern.

Sheena gazed at her hands, a feeling of hatred constricting her chest like a heavy weight. "This curse is an ancient Willcraft—a potent magic of will passed down by my ancestors," her voice was soft and trembling, carrying the weight of her lineage. "Once, they said, it was a blessing ant to build a kingdom that would never face scarcity, flourishing through generations."

She walked slowly towards the fountain in the middle of the garden. A small bird perched at the edge of the pond, inching closer to her hand, as if wanting to reveal everything.

"Don't," Fitran said quickly, his tone firm and urgent, confronting his doubts.

But the bird had already touched her skin.

In an instant, the small creature froze—and transford into gold. The golden bird fell silently onto the grass.

Silence.

A suffocating silence, biting into Sheena's heart.

"I have beco the source of Elysvarre's wealth," she continued, her voice now more bitter and full of regret, feeling the impact of her unforeseen curse. "That is why my people do not starve, and why this kingdom stands majestic while others collapse. They glorify as The Silent Rose of Prosperity, unaware of the steep price I must pay."

Her eyes stared blankly at the rising morning sun, contemplating the burden she bore.

"But they do not see the golden corpses that I have produced. They do not see the living things that have turned to dust. Everything I love... everything I hoped to touch... has beco aningless wealth," she continued, each word erging in an emotionally charged whisper, as if unraveling all the longing and sorrow, painting a portrait of a tragedy that haunts a soul that has lost everything."

Fitran clenched his fists, asserting his presence like a warrior ready for battle. "That is why you are being guarded. Why you feel like yesterday's puppet," his voice grew more authoritative, the tension in the air palpable as it echoed their shared burden.

Sheena nodded slowly, her soft voice trembling. "They do not want to make contact with anyone. Even the servants are forbidden to touch . And the nobles... see only as a walking purse. Including my father."

She paused, her breath heavy, as if the words burdened her mind.

"I accepted this arranged marriage for one reason," she added, her voice now carrying a hint of courage.

Fitran looked at her intently, his face firm and authoritative.

"I hope you... perhaps you, who have challenged the gods and won the Heaven Wars, can break this curse," she revealed, her tone rising, as if reminding both of them of the imnse responsibility laid before them in a world where hope had beco a rare commodity.

Fitran stepped closer, his voice resonating with intensity. "You ntioned this is ancient will magic. Willcraft."

Sheena nodded, but there was now a firmness in her gaze. "Long ago, the first noble of Elysvarre made a pact with an unnad entity, as recorded in the sacred texts," Sheena explained, her voice steeped in mory. "He was known as Veyrundis, the Will Exchangeer. To save his people from eternal hunger, he offered his bloodline as paynt for imnse power."

Fitran murmured, "And you are his descendant." His tone reflected the weight of the burden they were facing.

"Yes. I am the final vessel of will from that covenant," Sheena responded with renewed determination, embracing the significance of the responsibility she now bore. "If I die without an heir... the curse will end, but so will the wealth of Elysvarre. My people will fall back into poverty, starvation... and war will return to this land, resurrecting the dark mories long forgotten."

Sheena lowered her gaze, wrestling with her inner turmoil. "I have contemplated death many tis. But I cannot allow them to perish," her voice trembled, yet a newfound courage began to erge.

Fitran grasped the hilt of his sword, his voice firm. "Excalibur. The sword of will that not only cuts through matter but also aning," he explained with conviction, instilling a spirit for the upcoming battle.

"I will not choose between your people or you," he declared strongly, his voice resonating with certainty, affirming that both were worthy of salvation. "I will free them both, for without one, the other will hold no significance."

Sheena shook her head slowly, her voice trembling. "Even Excalibur may not be enough. Veyrundis did not weave this curse from ordinary magic. It is the Pactum Willcraft—a concept. The laws of reality..." She slowed her words, as if doubting the hope behind her statent.

Fitran offered a faint smile, instilling a sense of confidence. "I've broken the laws of reality before," he replied, his voice steady, encouraging Sheena to consider a broader possibility.

Sheena looked up, now starting to show her courage. "What do you an?" Her voice, once trembling, grew more assertive as she sought answers.

Fitran extended his hand, fully aware of the risks involved. There was a brief pause, a mont of certainty amid uncertainty, as they stood facing each other.

Sheena felt a surge of panic, yet the trace of doubt in her voice began to fade. "No! You will—" she said, her tone reflecting the tension of what was about to unfold.

Fitran gently but firmly grasped Sheena's fingers, igniting a new spark of determination within her.

And nothing happened.

No gold. No change.

Sheena's eyes widened, a mix of hope and disappointnt.

"How—"

Fitran gazed deeply into her eyes, his voice firm and resolute, "I am a paladin born to challenge fate itself. The laws binding this world... do not always apply to , for I stand at the edge of a reality shift that is greater than ourselves, teetering on the brink of change."

But in the distance, the wind changed, and the scent of flowers was replaced by sothing older and more terrifying. Sheena lowered her head, moving her lips as if she wanted to speak, but only a soft whisper erged, "What will happen now? Is there hope behind all this?"

Whispers echoed through the foliage, hauntingly resonating like forgotten promises: "Those who seek to liberate a fate already written... will bear wounds that cannot be healed, remnants of battles fought in shadows."

Fitran drew his sword with unwavering resolve, his voice booming with authority, "Veyrundis."

Tall shadows like black mist began to materialize among the trees, intensifying the tension in the air. Sheena whispered, her voice trembling, "It's coming. It knows we are trying to resist."

Fitran stood protectively before Sheena, his posture rigid, like a fortress ready to defend. With an escalating fervor, he declared, "Then let us comnce this war. Not with armies. Not with kingdoms. But with our own will, the strength from within that will never fade."

Sheena, gazing defiantly, lifted her head. For the first ti, a smile full of aning graced her face, and her voice was steady, "I am ready."

"I am ready."