Not long after the tragic events unfolded, Phiengwad gradually fell into a deep illness. Her heart was weighed down by sorrow and grief over the loss of La-Orchan, the woman she loved most. At the same time, the overwhelming guilt she felt towards La-Orduen, La-Orchan's twin sister, slowly consumed her, eating away at her very existence.
Phiengwad blamed herself for everything. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that the deaths of La-Orchan, La-Orduen, and even Lord Noradit, their father, were all the result of her own actions. Every time she recalled La-Orduen's final letter, each word felt like a blade cutting deeper into her heart, dragging her further into an abyss of guilt.
Months passed, and Phiengwad's condition deteriorated at an alarming rate. Despite the best efforts of the physicians summoned by Lord Krai, her father, no medicine or remedy could ease the suffering that came from the torment within her soul.
The once-renowned beauty of the capital was no more. Her once-radiant complexion had turned pale and lifeless. Her once-bright eyes had sunken into deep hollows, dulled by despair. Her thick, lustrous hair had become brittle and dry. Her body had withered away, leaving only frail bones beneath her delicate skin. She barely had the strength to lift herself from her bed, and every breath she took was labored, as if the mere act of living had become an unbearable burden.
Then, one fateful day, the physician tending to Phiengwad informed her family that she would not live to see another dawn. He had seen many patients fade away due to heartbreak, and Phiengwad was no exception. Her time was running out.
As Phiengwad lay motionless on her bed, her eyes stared into the emptiness before her. She could feel the end approaching, drawing closer with every passing moment.
Sir Det-Wijit, her elder brother, stood beside her with a sorrowful expression, his eyes filled with grief. Gulab, her loyal maid, knelt by her bedside, sobbing uncontrollably, her face streaked with tears of despair. Lord Krai and Lady Dao-Rueang, Phiengwad's parents, could not bear to witness their only daughter's final moments. They turned away, their faces drenched in silent tears, overcome with the anguish of losing her.
Phiengwad glanced around the room, taking in the sorrow that surrounded her. Her heart ached knowing that her loved ones suffered because of her fate.
"Brother…" she called out weakly, her voice barely above a whisper, a mere breath from the last remnants of her strength.
Sir Det-Wijit immediately leaned in, grasping her frail hand tightly. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears.
"Yes, Phiengwad?" he responded, his voice trembling as he fought to steady himself.
"In this life, I have committed great sins. I have loved and lost, suffered endlessly. La-Orchan's death was my doing. La-Orduen's death was my doing. Even Lord Noradit—he died from sorrow over La-Orduen's fate… and I cannot deny that I played a part in that as well."
Her voice was faint, burdened with guilt and pain. Every word she spoke felt like a confession of the weight she carried until the very end. The torment of her past was a noose tightening around her soul, suffocating her even in her final moments.
"It was never your fault, dear sister. Do not think such things," Sir Det-Wijit said softly, his voice full of sorrow. He wished to console her, to offer her some semblance of peace before she departed from this world.
With trembling fingers, Phiengwad slowly removed two golden rings from her hand—rings she had worn since the day La-Orchan passed away. She gazed at them, her vision blurred with tears, every memory she shared with La-Orchan embedded within the delicate gold.
At last, she spoke, her voice frail but resolute.
"Brother… I entrust these rings to you. Keep them safe… Do not let them be separated… as I was from La-Orchan."
"You need not worry, Phiengwad. I swear upon my life that I will protect these rings, for as long as our family endures," Sir Det-Wijit vowed, taking the rings into his hands, his tears finally breaking free.
Phiengwad smiled faintly, her gratitude shining through her weary eyes. With the last of her strength, she whispered one final wish.
"If La-Orchan and I are destined to be together again, then perhaps, in another life, I will return to reclaim these rings myself."
Her voice faded into nothing, her strength slipping away. Yet, in her gaze, there remained a glimmer of hope—a dream of reunion, a love that transcended time itself. Even as her body withered, her heart still longed for the one she had lost.
As her final words left her lips, her eyes gently closed. A single tear escaped the corner of her eye, rolling down her cheek. A faint, peaceful smile remained upon her lips, as though, at last, she had found release from the anguish that had tormented her soul for so long.
Her body fell still. The quiet gasp of her last breath dissipated into the silence of the night, leaving only an eerie stillness behind.
The world around her grew hushed, shrouded in a profound tranquility—as if time itself had stopped to mourn her passing.
All that remained was grief, lingering in the hearts of those left behind…
..
In that lifetime,
Phiengwad, La-Orchan, and La-Orduen were all trapped in an endless cycle of suffering. None of them found happiness in love; each heart bore deep scars, forging unbreakable chains that bound their souls to an abyss of pain and torment.
Phiengwad, a woman devoted to a love that consumed her entire existence, had her beloved cruelly taken from her. Unable to endure the loss, she chose to exact revenge upon the one she deemed responsible—never realizing that the more she fueled her hatred, the stronger the karmic repercussions would be.
La-Orchan, a woman of pure heart and unwavering love, was forced into an impossible choice between love and family. Unable to decide, she lost them both, denied even the chance to bid farewell to the one she cherished most.
La-Orduen, a woman who longed for a love that was never hers to claim, trampled upon the hearts of others in pursuit of her misguided desires. Her actions, driven by obsession and resentment, wove a bond of vengeance so tight that even in the final moments of her life, she clung to hatred. It had become an inseparable part of her very soul.
The choices of these three women became the shackles of karmic fate, binding their souls together and drawing them once more into each other's lives in their present reincarnations.
Phiengwad was reborn as Lin Treephat.
La-Orchan returned as Aey Rinlada.
But La-Orduen… she remained a vengeful spirit, eternally bound to the two by the weight of her grudge, her rage, and the curse she had once spoken. Her spirit, consumed by vengeance, was unable to move on, forever tethered to the earthly plane.
.
.
The vision of past lives, forced upon Rinlada by La-Orduen, left a deep and haunting scar upon her heart.
.
.
Rinlada sat frozen in place, her wide eyes filled with terror. Her face had drained of color, as if she had just awakened from a horrific nightmare. Tears streamed down her cheeks, the overwhelming grief and pain of a past she had long forgotten now surging through her once more.
"Do you see now? Do you see what you and P'Phiengwad did to me in your past lives?"
La-Orduen's voice was chilling. A twisted smile curled upon her lips, but it carried no warmth—only seething resentment. She lifted her hands before Rinlada, revealing thick, silver chains that bound her wrists and ankles.
"I remain shackled as a spirit, unable to move on, unable to be reborn—all because of you! These chains of vengeance hold me here, trapping me, binding me to this realm, forcing me to wait for the day I can exact my revenge!"
The sound of clashing iron echoed through the air, the heavy chains rattling as if fueled by her fury.
"The more I hate, the tighter these chains become, the more they consume me! You will never understand the suffering I have endured for centuries!"
Suddenly, the steel bindings tightened around La-Orduen's wrists and ankles, biting into her flesh. Blood seeped from the wounds, dripping onto the cold, empty void beneath her feet. The sight was horrifying—yet even more terrifying were the tears cascading down her face, for they were not clear… but red, like streams of blood.
Rinlada was forced to witness it all, unable to turn away.
"I'm sorry..." she finally spoke, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry for what La-Orchan and Phiengwad did to you in our past lives, La-Orduen. Can you… can you find it in your heart to forgive us?"
La-Orduen's laughter rang out, sharp and bitter.
"You think a mere apology will erase centuries of suffering?!"
Rinlada fell silent, but after a moment, she gathered her resolve and spoke again.
"Maybe an apology isn't enough for you... But have you ever asked yourself if you were entirely innocent in this?"
La-Orduen's eyes flared with rage, yet Rinlada did not stop.
"You knew from the start that Phiengwad loved La-Orchan. Yet you still tried to tear them apart. You forced your sister into a vow she never wanted to make. She saved your life from a snake, but you let her drown before your very eyes. You killed her. And then, through your letter, you condemned two others to their deaths."
Each word struck La-Orduen like a blade. She lunged at Rinlada, her once-beautiful face contorted with fury, half of it now burned and scarred beyond recognition.
"Was it not justified?! Was it not fair for me to take revenge for what was done to me—especially against that wretched Sir Ramdecha?!" she roared, her voice filled with pain and fury. "You have never suffered as I have! You could never understand!"
Rinlada took a deep breath, then met La-Orduen's burning gaze.
"Then tell me what you want, La-Orduen."
The vengeful spirit stilled. Her raging expression did not fade, but her eyes darkened into something colder, more calculated. A slow, sinister smile stretched across her lips.
"I want your life."
.
.
In an instant, La-Orduen lunged at Rinlada. A chilling force gripped her soul, yanking her violently from her body. The icy sensation crawled through her veins, numbing every inch of her being as her spirit was forcibly torn from her physical form.
Rinlada's body collapsed lifelessly to the ground.
And in the next breath, La-Orduen took her place.
.
.
La-Orduen, now in Rinlada's body, slowly stood, a triumphant smirk curling on her lips. The soft, kind eyes that once belonged to Rinlada had darkened with malice. Her expression radiated satisfaction, her movements exuding confidence and control.
Meanwhile, Rinlada's spirit stood in shock, staring at her own lifeless body from the outside. Her translucent form trembled as realization dawned upon her—her body was no longer hers.
"Watch closely, dear sister," La-Orduen sneered. "Watch as I destroy everything you once held dear… using your own hands."
"La-Orduen! What are you doing?!" Rinlada screamed in horror, lunging toward her possessed body, trying to reclaim it. But her hands passed through like mist, touching nothing but air.
She gasped, staring at her own ethereal form. Her hands were transparent—intangible.
"What… what is happening to me?" she whispered, panic rising in her voice. She frantically reached for nearby objects—the table, the chair, the walls—but her fingers slipped through them all.
La-Orduen, now in Rinlada's body, watched with satisfaction, her laughter echoing through the room.
"This is the punishment you deserve," she declared. "Do you know what it feels like to watch your own life continue without you, to be nothing but a powerless observer?"
She extended a hand, pointing directly at Rinlada's fading spirit, her eyes gleaming with cruelty.
"La-Orchan, remember this well. I will use your body to destroy everything you loved. And Phiengwad—the woman you took from me—I will make her suffer even more than I ever did. I will curse you, and every soul who dares to stand in my way, for all eternity!"
.
.
Rinlada could do nothing but watch as her own body, now possessed by La-Orduen, moved with deliberate intent. The spirit wasted no time—she entered Rinlada's bedroom and began rummaging through every corner. She yanked open the closet doors, pulled out drawers, and scattered objects around the room as if searching for something of great importance.
Rinlada stood frozen in confusion. She had no idea what La-Orduen was looking for. When nothing was found, frustration darkened the spirit's expression. Her jaw tightened, her gaze sharp with fury, before she stormed towards another room—Rinlada's study.
"What are you looking for?" Rinlada asked, her voice trembling. But La-Orduen did not respond, as if she hadn't heard the question at all.
Then, suddenly, La-Orduen's eyes locked onto something on the desk. Rinlada followed her gaze, and the moment she saw what La-Orduen was fixated on, her heart dropped.
On the desk lay two ancient gold rings—family heirlooms. One was set with a deep blue sapphire, the other with a crimson ruby. Rinlada had only recently learned from her past-life visions that these rings once belonged to Phiengwad and La-Orchan, symbols of their love.
La-Orduen's eyes widened, hatred boiling within them. She lunged for the rings, her movements dripping with desperation.
"La-Orduen! Don't you dare touch those rings!" Rinlada cried out, trying to throw herself in between. But her translucent form passed through her own body like mist. She was powerless. She could only watch as La-Orduen snatched up the rings, her lips curling into a cruel smile.
"These rings… preserved so well, passed down through generations of Sir Det-Wijit's family. A cherished symbol of love between you wretches!" La-Orduen spat venomously. "But today, I will destroy them!"
In an instant, crimson flames erupted in La-Orduen's hands, engulfing the golden rings. Rinlada stumbled back, screaming.
"No! Stop!"
The fire blazed furiously, yet La-Orduen's hands remained untouched, unscathed by the infernal heat. She watched with twisted satisfaction as the gold melted, as the sapphire and ruby cracked and shattered, reduced to nothing but fragments.
"How does it feel, watching something precious be destroyed before your very eyes?" La-Orduen taunted. "You will never forget this pain!"
Rinlada collapsed to the ground, tears pouring down her face. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she pleaded,
"Please… stop…"
But La-Orduen ignored her. The last flickers of fire died, leaving behind only ashes. The last remnants of love in those rings had been obliterated. She stepped closer to Rinlada, her gaze dark and merciless.
"Now, do you understand how it feels to have something you love ripped away?" she hissed.
With those words, she raised her hand—and Rinlada gasped as an invisible force wrapped around her throat. The pressure tightened, suffocating her. Pain spread through her very essence as her translucent form was lifted off the ground, limbs flailing helplessly.
La-Orduen watched, her expression cold and unforgiving. She reveled in Rinlada's suffering as her spirit weakened, as her very existence began to fade.
.
.
"Khun Aey!" Treephat's voice rang out.
She jolted awake in the darkness of her bedroom, her heart pounding erratically. Cold sweat clung to her skin. The remnants of the nightmare still clutched at her mind.
In the dream, everything had been a chaotic blur. She saw Phiengwad and La-Orchan kneeling before a sacred statue in an old temple—then, in an instant, the scene shifted. Phiengwad was crying, her once-beautiful face marred by sorrow. Her tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks.
And then, the golden rings. They burned within scarlet flames.
A piercing scream shattered the dreamscape—the voice of Rinlada, echoing with agony and despair. The sound tore through Treephat's heart, as if she could feel Rinlada's pain through the distance.
A sudden sharp pain struck her chest, forcing her to clutch at her left side. Her thoughts swirled chaotically, but one thing was certain—her heart ached with an inexplicable longing. A dreadful fear clawed at her insides.
Something was wrong.
Treephat sat up abruptly, reaching for her phone. But as she glanced at the screen, the glowing numbers read: 2:00 AM. Her thumb hesitated over Rinlada's contact. Would it be too late to call? She didn't want to disturb her in the middle of the night.
With a deep sigh, Treephat fell back against the pillows, forcing herself to close her eyes. But sleep would not come. The unease gnawed at her, an unshakable voice whispering in the depths of her mind.
"Rinlada needs help."
The words echoed again and again, a warning she could not ignore.
…
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