Family- IV

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"She was married to your ancestor. A woman named Samira." I sat down across from her. "They adopted a boy. He was the Forgotten Son. The same man who trained you. The same man who wants this curse dead."

Silence stretched between us.

"I know," she said finally. "He told me long ago. When I was still stupid enough to think magic was just about spells and rituals. He trained me because he believed I was the last chance to stop it. But he didn't think I'd be the one holding you back from doing what he wanted."

I swallowed. "What he wanted was to kill it. Fully. No mercy. Even if it kills me in the process."

Miss Kaur nodded, her jaw tense. "And what I want… is for you to survive."

That was the real divide. It had always been.

She stood, walking slowly toward the shelf where she kept old diaries, some hers, some older. "I think it's time you knew why I'm so stubborn about this."

I watched her open a small, leather-bound journal and hand it to me. Inside were faded sketches, ritual circles, seal diagrams, and one drawing that made my heart squeeze.

It was a younger version of Aranya and Samira. Standing together, holding a child. The child's face was scribbled out with ash.

"She drew that herself," Miss Kaur said quietly. "She left it with her will, in the sealed archives beneath this house. The last record of her choice. She never wanted the curse to be passed down. But Samira… Samira was fragile. She had inherited a different kind of bloodline. One tied to curse containment."

"Wait, Samira's family?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "They specialized in absorbing and suppressing demonic energy. But it tore her apart. Her organs weakened with every year. She couldn't even hold a charm for more than a few minutes by the end."

I pictured her, Samira dying slowly, trying to hold a thing made of shadows and screams inside her.

"Aranya wanted to seal the curse away," Miss Kaur continued, "but the spell backfired. Samira's body broke, and the demon Sallos, anchored itself in Aranya instead."

"She didn't choose it," I whispered.

"No. But she bore it. She raised her son. And when both women were gone, that boy… that boy grew up in the ruins of their love. He wasn't evil. But he saw too much. And he never forgave the curse for stealing them both."

The Forgotten Son. The boy who had been locked inside a room while his mothers fought a demon.

"What does he want now?" I asked.

Miss Kaur looked me dead in the eye. "He wants to make sure no one else carries this curse. Even if that means killing you with it."

I sat there in silence, the weight of legacy pressing into my spine.

Later that night, I dreamt again.

It was darker this time. The field was gone. The sky was stormy and cracked with red lightning. Aranya stood in front of a tall, crumbling mirror with carvings swirling along its edge.

She turned to me slowly.

"He visited you recently," she said. "Didn't he?"

I nodded.

She frowned. "He was my son. My brave, brilliant boy. But he's not whole anymore. He carries only duty now. And vengeance."

Her voice shook.

"He doesn't understand that saving the world means nothing if it breaks the child inside it."

The wind howled through the dream. The mirror behind her flickered. For a split second, I saw Sallos in it, bound in chains.

"He wants you to kill him, Ojas," Aranya said. "He wants you to end it so badly that he's willing to turn you into a weapon to do it."

"And what do you want?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"I want you to be free," she said. "But not through blood. Not through death. Through mastery."

I woke with tears crusted on my face.

Miss Kaur was in the hallway, waiting.

"You dreamed again."

I nodded.

"She's trying to protect me. But the others… They want the curse to end. At any cost."

She placed a hand on my shoulder. "Then we'll find another way. A third path."

I believed her. I wanted to.

But I knew that somewhere deep inside, that the curse was not going to let me walk away without a final choice.

And choices like that always cut deep.

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