Curse

The moon hung high above Eclipsevane, its pale light spilling across the jagged stone walls and casting long shadows over the courtyard. Kael sat alone in a darkened corner, his back pressed against the cold stone. Before him, the Crimson Dagger rested on the ground, its faint crimson glow barely illuminating the space around it. The hum it emitted was subtle, yet it seemed to vibrate through the air, a persistent rhythm that matched his heartbeat.

Kael stared at the blade, his jaw clenched tight. The weapon looked deceptively simple—its dark, sleek form interrupted only by the faint etchings of runes that shimmered faintly under the moonlight. Yet Kael knew better. This dagger wasn't just a weapon. It was alive, in a way that no one else could understand. It was tied to him, bound by something far more sinister than mere steel and magic.

"Why now?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly. "Why couldn't you just stay gone?"

The dagger offered no answer, only its relentless hum. But Kael didn't need words to feel its presence pressing down on him, creeping into his thoughts like a slow, insidious poison.

He leaned forward, his hands on his knees as his breathing grew heavier. For three years, he had been free—or so he thought. The dagger had disappeared, taking its haunting whispers and its suffocating pull with it. He had rebuilt himself in Alsta, crafted a new name, a new life. Kael, the helpful apprentice, the loyal friend. Not Changra. Never Changra.

Yet now, here it was again, dragging his past out of the shadows and thrusting it into the light. The name he had buried clawed its way back to the surface, carried by the voice that had tormented him for so long.

"Changra."

The voice slithered into his mind, smooth and dark, like silk woven with steel. Kael flinched, his fists clenching as the name echoed in his thoughts.

"Did you really think you could escape me?" the voice continued, soft but unrelenting. "You've always been mine."

"No," Kael hissed through gritted teeth. He grabbed the dagger and hurled it with all his strength. It clattered against the stone wall and fell to the ground with a dull thud.

For a moment, silence.

But then, as if mocking him, the dagger reappeared at his side, its glow brighter now, its hum louder. Kael's heart pounded, his chest tightening with a mix of fear and rage. He scrambled backward, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

"I don't want you!" he shouted, his voice breaking the stillness of the night. "I never wanted you!"

The hum deepened, resonating through the ground beneath him. The voice returned, calm and insidious, laced with a cruel amusement. "Oh, but you do. You've always wanted me, Changra. You needed me then, and you need me now."

Kael shook his head violently, pressing his hands against his ears as if it would block out the sound. But the voice wasn't coming from the dagger—it was in his mind, a part of him that he couldn't shut out.

"Shut up," he growled, his body trembling with frustration. "You don't know me. You don't—"

The voice interrupted him, sharper now, cutting through his protests like a blade. "Don't I? I know everything about you, Changra. Your anger. Your guilt. Your chaos. You can change your name, your face, your story—but you can't change what's inside you."

Kael slammed his fist against the ground, his head falling forward as a choked sound escaped his throat. "I'm not that person anymore," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I left him behind."

"You can't leave behind what you carry in your soul," the voice replied, quieter now, almost soothing. "I'm part of you, just as you're part of me. We are one, Changra. We always have been."

Kael's hands trembled as he stared at the dagger, its glow reflecting in his tear-filled eyes. Every word the voice spoke felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, suffocating him. He reached out, his fingers hovering over the hilt as his mind waged war with itself.

"Pick me up, Changra," the voice urged, soft and intimate. "Feel the power you've forgotten. You need me, whether you admit it or not."

Kael hesitated, his hand trembling as it inched closer. He could feel the hum resonating through the air, pulling him toward it like a siren's call. His fingers brushed the hilt, and a jolt shot through him, making him recoil with a gasp.

"No," he said firmly, his voice stronger now. "I won't let you control me again."

The dagger's hum shifted, the rhythm becoming slower, more deliberate, as if mocking his resolve. "You say that now. But when the time comes, you'll see. You can't save them without me."

Kael froze, his heart pounding in his chest. "Save them?" he whispered, dread creeping into his voice. "Save who?"

Kael's chest heaved as he sat in the dim courtyard, the Crimson Dagger resting at his side like a predator waiting to strike. Its faint crimson glow barely illuminated the darkened stone around him, but the hum it emitted was relentless, reverberating in his bones like an unyielding heartbeat.

He glared at the blade, gripping his knees to steady himself. "Why now?" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

The dagger didn't answer with words—not yet. Instead, its hum deepened, the rhythm slow and deliberate, as though it were preparing for something. And then, like a floodgate opening, the memories began.

The first flash hit him like a punch to the gut—his mother's face, twisted in terror. Changra, no—Kael—saw himself as a child, gripping the knife with trembling hands as she screamed. Her voice was shrill, desperate, echoing in his ears like a haunting refrain.

"Please! Changra, stop!" her words begged, but he didn't. He couldn't. He could see his small hands, coated in blood, and the knife plunging down as he silenced her cries forever.

The image blurred, shifting to his father—his drunken roars cutting through the suffocating silence of their home. The man's fists had always been a source of pain, but this time, it was different. This time, Kael had the knife. He remembered the look in his father's eyes when the blade found its mark—shock, disbelief, then nothing.

Kael's stomach churned as he watched his younger self, barely more than a child, standing over their lifeless bodies. Blood pooled around his feet, the metallic stench filling his nostrils.

"You killed them," the dagger's voice whispered, smooth and insidious. "Your own parents. That's who you are, Changra. A murderer."

"No," Kael muttered, shaking his head violently. "I had to. They—"

"Excuses," the voice hissed, cutting him off. "You can't run from what you did. You can't escape me."

The scene shifted abruptly, the blood-soaked house dissolving into the crumbling corridors of Eclipsevane. Kael staggered back as the memory of the fight with Berethia overwhelmed him. The air crackled with green magic, the sound of Berethia's laughter piercing the chaos.

"Liora!" he heard himself shout, his voice raw with desperation. He saw her fall first, a blast of energy slamming her into the wall. Her body crumpled, lifeless, before she even hit the ground.

"Callen!" His voice echoed in the corridor as Berethia's twisted magic tore through the air. Callen's sword was raised, his face set in grim determination, but it wasn't enough. The green tendrils struck him down, his scream cut short as he collapsed.

"Tessa!" The last name came as a broken sob. He saw her, shielding him with her magic, her face pale and strained as she tried to hold Berethia's attack at bay. But the strain was too much, and her barrier shattered. The blast consumed her, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

Kael fell to his knees, the weight of their deaths crushing him. "I couldn't save them," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I couldn't—"

"Of course, you couldn't," the dagger's voice interrupted, cold and taunting. "You were weak. They trusted you, and you let them die."

Kael clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp as the memory played on loop, the sight of his fallen friends etched into his mind. He felt the sting of failure, the guilt pressing down on him like a suffocating weight.

The scene shifted again, this time to the trial. Kael saw himself bound and restrained in the center of the chamber, the sneering faces of the guild bosses surrounding him. Their voices rang in his ears, sharp and unrelenting.

"Exile him."

"He's dangerous."

"A murderer."

Kael's younger self sat silently, his head bowed as their judgment fell upon him. He remembered the way his chest ached, the hollow feeling that consumed him as he was led away. Jane's tearful gaze haunted him, her silent plea for him to fight back, to explain himself, burned into his memory.

The faces blurred, but the words remained, each one a dagger to his heart.

"Monster."

"You don't belong here."

"Murderer."

Kael screamed, his voice raw as he clutched the dagger, the weight of the memories crashing over him. The blade pulsed in his hand, its hum rising to a deafening crescendo.

"This is who you are," the voice whispered, softer now but no less cruel. "A killer. A failure. A pariah. And yet, you live. Do you know why, Changra?"

Kael's breaths came in ragged gasps, his body trembling. "Shut up," he whispered. "Just shut up."

"You live because of me," the voice said, triumphant. "I gave you strength when you had none. I kept you alive when you should have died. Without me, you are nothing."

Kael dropped the blade, his hands shaking as he stared at it. "You're lying," he muttered. "I don't need you. I never did."

The dagger's hum slowed, its glow dimming slightly. "You can lie to yourself, Changra," it murmured, almost lazily. "But when the time comes, you'll turn to me again. You always do."

The visions faded, leaving Kael alone in the cold courtyard. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, his face damp with tears. The dagger lay at his side, its faint glow a haunting reminder of the truths it had forced him to confront.

Kael buried his face in his hands, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm not that person anymore," he said, as if trying to convince himself. "I'm not."

The dagger's hum continued, soft and unrelenting, as if to say otherwise.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The guild halls of Eclipsevane were steeped in uneasy silence, the faint flicker of torches casting jagged shadows along the worn stone walls. Jane leaned against the cool surface of the corridor, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Her thoughts were heavy, swirling with a chaotic mix of suspicion, longing, and something darker she couldn't quite name.

Kael.

From the moment he had arrived at the guild, there had been something about him she couldn't ignore. He was an enigma, carrying himself with an air of quiet strength that seemed at odds with the nervousness he sometimes displayed. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a depth of emotion she recognized but couldn't place.

She sighed, brushing her hair back from her face as she stared down the empty hallway. Why does he feel so familiar? The thought had plagued her since their first conversation, but it wasn't just familiarity—it was resemblance. To someone she had tried, and failed, to forget.

Changra.

The name stirred something in her chest, a sharp ache she hadn't felt in years. She had tried to bury her memories of him, of his broken smiles and sharp wit, of the pain he carried like a shield. But with Kael, it was like those memories had clawed their way back to the surface, refusing to be ignored.

Kael wasn't Changra—she knew that much. But he reminded her of him in ways that made her heart twist painfully. The way his gaze flicked away when someone got too close, the quiet tension in his movements, the way he carried his burdens in silence. It was as if a ghost had walked into her life, wearing a new face but carrying the same soul-crushing weight.

She leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. Why does it matter? Why can't I just let it go?

But she couldn't. The resemblance wasn't just haunting—it was consuming. Her chest tightened every time she saw Kael, her mind racing with questions she couldn't ask. Who was he, really? What secrets was he hiding? And why did her thoughts keep drifting to him, lingering on his voice, his face, the way he looked when he thought no one was watching?

Jane's fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she struggled to push the thoughts away. This isn't normal. This isn't—

Her breath hitched as another wave of emotion crashed over her. It wasn't just curiosity anymore. It was obsession. She wanted to know him, to unravel his mysteries, to pull him closer and hold onto him before he could slip away. And that desire burned inside her, fierce and unrelenting, leaving her shaken.

"Kael," she whispered, the name slipping from her lips like a confession. Her chest ached with the weight of it, the realization of just how deeply he had gotten under her skin.

Her mind replayed the moments she had spent with him—the awkwardness of his first introduction, the way he had looked at her during their late-night conversation, the way he had stumbled over his words as if trying to guard something precious. She could see him now, out there in the dark courtyard, shouting at the dagger like it was alive. She didn't understand it, but it didn't matter. She wanted to.

And that's what terrified her most. It wasn't just his resemblance to Changra that kept her up at night, though that was part of it. It was the pull he had on her, the way he consumed her thoughts and made her feel things she wasn't ready to name. Things she couldn't control.

Jane pressed a trembling hand to her chest, her pulse racing beneath her fingertips. She couldn't stop thinking about him—his voice, his hands, the pain in his eyes. Her suspicion warred with a deeper, darker longing, one that clawed at the edges of her mind and whispered promises she didn't want to hear.

She closed her eyes tightly, her breath shaky. "No," she whispered to herself, her voice cracking. "This isn't right. This isn't—"

But even as she tried to deny it, the pull grew stronger. Her thoughts drifted back to Kael, to his quiet strength and the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. She wanted to break through his walls, to reach the truth of who he was. And more than that, she wanted him to see her, to notice her the way she noticed him.

Her nails bit into her palms as she leaned back against the wall, her head tilted toward the ceiling. Why does he feel so familiar? Why do I… why do I want him so badly?

The answer hung unspoken in the back of her mind, a dark, insidious truth she wasn't ready to confront. But she could feel it creeping closer, sinking its claws into her heart with every passing moment.