Chapter 1: The Curse (2)

The figure stepped back, giving him a moment to absorb what was happening. His mind raced, but every time he tried to hold onto something solid, it slipped through his fingers like sand. The curse—their words echoed in his mind, mocking him.

"Who are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but the fear was creeping back in.

The figure didn't answer immediately. Instead, they turned and began to pace in a slow, deliberate manner, as if savoring every second of his confusion. "You really don't know, do you? There's no escaping it now. You're in this world whether you like it or not. And while you're here, everything you thought you understood will slowly unravel. The memories, the stories, everything. They'll slip away, bit by bit."

The more the figure spoke, the more he felt the walls closing in around him, suffocating him with the weight of their words. He could feel a sense of something—something from the past—flickering at the edges of his mind. But it wasn't clear enough to grasp. It was as if the very concept of his past life was being erased, piece by piece.

"Stop," he pleaded, his voice cracking. "Tell me what I need to do. How do I fix this?"

The figure paused, turning to face him with a sharp look in their eyes. "Fix it?" they echoed with a cruel laugh. "You can't fix what's already broken. This world, these worlds, they're all tangled in a web you'll never fully understand. You're nothing more than a player in someone else's game."

His chest tightened, and the panic started to spiral again. "I don't understand! I need to know how to get out of here, how to stop this curse!"

For the first time, the figure's expression shifted, a flicker of something—perhaps sympathy, perhaps disdain—crossing their face. "It's not about getting out. It's about surviving. If you want to survive, you'll have to play by the rules of this world. And those rules? They're not as forgiving as the ones you were used to."

Before he could respond, there was a soft clicking sound, followed by the opening of a door that he hadn't noticed before. A second figure entered the room, their presence calm and composed. They gave the first figure a slight nod before turning their attention to him.

"Are we done with the lecture?" the second figure asked, their voice smooth and neutral, though there was a faint edge to it.

The first figure gave a single nod. "For now. He has much to learn."

The second figure stepped closer, their gaze soft but calculating as they studied him. "I see you're still struggling with the reality of your situation. It's natural. But I assure you, things will make sense soon enough."

He tried to read their expression, but it was impossible to decipher. "What do you mean by 'soon enough'? I don't even know where I am, or how I got here, or—"

"You're in a place called Narevia," the second figure interrupted, their tone neutral. "A world of magic, mystery, and danger. The rules here are different from what you're used to, and you'll need time to adjust."

Narevia. The name echoed in his mind like a distant memory, something he should have known. Something… important.

His breath hitched. "Magic?" he whispered, barely able to grasp the weight of it. "Is this… really happening?"

The second figure stepped back slightly, crossing their arms. "You're not imagining it. This is as real as it gets. You're part of this world now, and you'll need to learn how to survive here. You won't have your memories to guide you, but you'll find a way… eventually."

He shook his head, trying to focus. "But how? How do I even begin to understand any of this?"

The figure seemed to consider him for a moment before speaking again. "You start by accepting that your life will never be the same. You'll have to adapt. There is no going back, and there is no easy way forward."

"But…" he started, but the words stuck in his throat. "How do I…?"

Before he could finish, a sharp pain shot through his head, like a sudden jolt of electricity running through his brain. His vision blurred, and he could feel himself losing control.

"No…!" he gasped, trying to steady himself, but the pain intensified. It was as if something was clawing at his mind, pulling at the edges of his thoughts.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, the pain stopped. He sat there, panting, confused, unable to make sense of what had just happened.

The first figure glanced over at him, their gaze cold and indifferent. "The curse is settling in. Soon, you won't be able to remember anything at all. But don't worry. You'll get used to it."

He felt a wave of dizziness wash over him, his thoughts scattered. The curse. He was starting to understand, but the more he grasped at the truth, the more it slipped through his fingers.

The second figure spoke again, their voice low and purposeful. "You need to be ready. This world isn't kind to those who don't adapt. You're no longer just a reader, a passive observer. You're in it now. And if you don't learn quickly, you won't survive."

He swallowed hard, fear bubbling in his chest. The reality of his situation was sinking in. He had no choice but to try. Try to survive. Try to remember.

But the question lingered—how? How could he possibly survive when everything he knew was being stolen away from him?