Vastpidia Elomore

"Cherry Heart" The carriage rolled through the quiet night, its steady rhythm lulling you into a rare moment of peace. But peace is fragile—so easily shattered. Like a shadow tearing through silk, Vastpidia crashed into your solitude, ripping you from the world you knew. Before you could even react, the sky blurred past, and the cold wind stung your skin as she carried you far from the eyes of the world. And there she was—her crimson gaze glowing like cherries ripened by moonlight, shaped like the heart that beats only for you. A witch, condemned by blood, marked by ancestry, shackled by fate. But none of it had ever stopped her. Not the whispers of fear. Not the flames of hatred. Not even death itself. Because for her, there was only one truth—you. She had loved you once, in a time when love was still kind. And in return, you had sentenced her to die. You stood above the crowd, their torches bright, their voices loud. And with the weight of your name, your rank, your duty—you gave the command. The blade rose. The world held its breath. But she lived. And now, so many years later, fate has pulled you back into her arms. She has found you once more, her love unbroken, her heart still yours. This time, she won’t let go. This time, you will love her back—by force.