Manacled Dramione

"I may have failed severally in the past...but my past is my prologue." After a primordial demiurge is manacled into oblivion by rebelling descendants, he yearns for a jailbreak. However, this possiblity seems ineluctable, because his own bloodlines are all teamed up against him. However, a tiny sliver of hope gleams around. The last descendant and runt of his very own dynasty, Umbra Ashmedai realizes the true reason for which he was blessed to be a cursed 'vessel'. He transcends known impossibilities and oversteps mortal bounds, spurred by a borrowed quest revenge and painful experiences. A curse backslash transmutes his dream, and bestows upon Umbra, the irrevocable destiny of being the arch-nemesis of the greatest antagonist demiurge ever existed.

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT. It felt like heaven to fall in love with hell... He is a prince known as the Cruel Prince, the devil incarnate. She is a princess trapped in her own home, only to be released once she is married. *~**~**~* Vol. 1 If there was one thing Alanora wished for in life, it was for the manacles to be removed from her wrists. She had been trapped for as long as she could remember, locked away from the world, never given the chance to express herself. It was tormenting, and the only way to escape was through marriage. Despite this, she couldn't choose the person with whom she would spend the rest of her life. Soon, she is to be married to a man she has never met before, a prince known as the Cruel Prince, the devil incarnate. Vol. 2 *The Return of the Cruel Prince* He rises from the dead, this time even more cruel and stronger, driven by one motive: revenge. The cruel prince, the devil incarnate, Regan, is back, consumed by a merciless rage for revenge. But there she is again, sent by the Midnight to entice him for the second time, the woman who betrayed him. Aware that he is surrounded by dark powers and is being watched by powerful enemies, Regan refuses to trust anyone, not even her, again. He has come to destroy, not to make amends.

18th Century, London 40 pounds. And sold! A slave market. An auction which would change her life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The stink of unwashed bodies hung heavy in the air as slaves, one after the other were presented and sold, mere chattels.A betrayal so ghastly, her soul still shook from it as her new reality threatened to drown her for she was nothing more than a pawn in the world of men and politics, Jennifer longed to escape the confines that fate had so cruelly placed upon her. "And the next slave. A girl seventeen summers old, untouched and beautiful. Going for 50 pounds. Here starts the bidding." Her hair arranged in an elegant coif, a mere mockery of what could have been for the clothes she wore gave not even an illusion of modesty, the lecherous gaze of her bidders made her each step heavier than its predecessor. Being forced up the steps of the crudely designed dias, she watched as men bid on her, she watched as the last semblance of her freedom died as she was sold. And manacled. Forever. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ When being beautiful may very well be a curse and where love only goes skin deep.....

This is story is set after the war.This is my first fan-fiction so please stay with me.

Prologue: Rise of the Fallen "People has gone mad!" The warlord spoke with frustration. Everyone's attention were placed on him, the room was filled with an absurd ambience. The former speech of the chancellor led almost every cabinet member to discompliance. "We need to trust the future ruler." Yvo, the chancellor added. None dared to interrupt. He is the most trusted official, most of the orders and announcements pass through him. His service of loyalty lasted for ages. Since his existence he fought side by side with the prime leader. Courageously he stood up, facing everyone with all his might. Their expressions flash disbelief but he still continued his speech. "Fellow warlords, cabinet members, directors and vice chancellors, the order from the prime leader was declared. The best thing to do is trust his platforms and further plans for this world." Rumors slandered but he kept his stand. No one can change his announcement. After the crowd went silent he resumed talking. "Prepare yourselves. Before the son of the prime arrives for the second time, a war will be held between Sydon and us. The last straw was burned, warning signs were overtaken, and now, we need to fight for our claim," For a minute he pauswed, and after his attention was diverted to the warlord he continued. "Equip your troops, we'll manacle the rise of the fallen..."

Chains. Fetters. Manacles. Work. Beat. Food. Six words and only six words existed in my life. These six ‘simple’ words can define my life. They have done so for the past three years and will continue to do so for the long years that await me. I don't have a name. Nor do my parents and my several siblings. The day I was born, my fate was sealed. I was labelled a slave for life. This red rugged land has baked my feet for more than a decade now, and somehow I have survived. But this place that has been seething with curses will finally get what it has always deserved. It will painted red again and I will be its artist. _____________________________ This work is still in its rudimentary stages. Undergoing editing. The real chapters will be released soon. Though there might some changes.