curse

“So this story—you believe it to be true?” Sunflower asked.

“Obviously.” Dawn leaned forward. “Did you not see all the things the witch said would happen? They've all come true. Food is a big problem in Tresia. Many people are malnourished and have grown weak, which led to widespread disease. Just because you live in the palace doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep tabs on the locals and what’s going on outside.”

Dawn sat up straighter. “You can consider this training to become the next chief. Anyway, moving on… I believe that boy is the disaster the witch unleashed upon us.” He crossed his fingers and awaited Sunflower’s reaction.

“Him!?” she burst out. “He doesn’t even have his memory and doesn’t understand magic! How is he a threat? Aren’t you being OVERLY CAUTIOUS?” She emphasized the last words loudly, trying to taunt him.

“Overly cautious, you say?” Dawn gave a faint smile.

“That’s what my master and the village’s former chief, Dust, used to tell me.”

He stood and walked toward his office window as he looks at the pit of soil where Lance’s body had been buried.

“Don’t underestimate the curse of a witch.”

The words sent a shiver down Sunflower’s spine.

“So… in five days, if nothing happens, then we’re safe?” she asked, clinging to a shred of hope.

Dawn shook his head. “No. If nothing happens, it means the curse has moved on—Lance was only partially corrupted. The curse will find someone else.” He continued solemnly, “It could take years for the next one to appear… or just a few weeks.”

“Then is there no way to avoid this?” Sunflower asked, desperate.

“The curse grows stronger over time,” Dawn said. “If we keep killing the cursed, like we did with Lance, then the next one will be stronger. Eventually, one will destroy us all. The only way to stop this is to break the curse. But according to the journal left by Chief Dust, they once summoned the best mage from the West. Even he couldn’t break it—and that was two hundred years ago.” His voice dropped. “Now, hardly any mage dares try without risking their life.”

Sunflower looked down, hiding her eyes from view. “So… your village is doomed. And there’s nothing we can do?”

“Not everything is bad,” Dawn said, trying to reassure her. “Lance was weak. And the ones who come after him—at least the first few—might be weak too. If the curse resurfaces slowly, over years, the village might survive for centuries. But if the cursed appear weeks apart… we might only have six months.”

“I’m guessing leaving the village and splitting up wouldn’t break the curse?” Sunflower asked, a sliver of hope flickering.

“No. That would be worse. The curse would make us suffer individually, making us easier targets.”

She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened. “Wait—you said if nothing happens in five days, the curse moves on. So… what are we supposed to expect in those five days?”

THUD!

The room went silent. Sunflower and Dawn turned sharply toward the sound—it came from the safe.

“Why are my worst fears coming true?” Dawn whispered.

“What did you hide in there?” Sunflower asked cautiously.

Dawn’s face turned grim. “What else? It’s Lance’s head.”

THUD!

This time, the safe was knocked over, landing flat on the floor with a loud crash.

THUD.
THUD.
THUD.

The pounding grew louder. More deliberate. Alive.