The Lost & Cursed

by Rina S Mamoon

  “Welcome to my home,” she greeted in a pleasant voice. “I admit I was surprised to learn Master Harold sent you in his stead. But considering last night, it was fortunate that he wasn’t in your place.” Lady Isabella noticed Mr. White and her smile dropped. Hema’s queen glared at Evan. “What is he doing here?” Isabella demanded in a sharp tone.

  “Milady,” Evan addressed with a clear voice. He had to tread carefully lest he provoked more of his ruler’s ire. “The young woman requested to bring him. He and his son were sent by the Faith.”

  Lady Isabella watched Evan before gazing at the two. “I’m afraid there are more serious matters at hand.” She gestured to a guest they hadn’t noticed before. Mara saw a tall and muscular man with silver hair, tanned skin, and wearing leather armour. Heru stood up, staring at her with dark eyes.

  “You’ve been bitten,” he murmured, appearing shocked that this happened to Mara.

  Isabella gazed at Heru in a mocking fashion. “Ah, so you’ve noticed?” She looked at Mara. “Since Heru has not the heart to slay his own kind, I’ll cure and pay you for the rogue’s head.”

  Mara’s jaw dropped. She never signed up for this. Despite having some training, she was no professional hunter. She never stood a chance against the werewolf last night. Heru growled at Isabella, looking angry. Mara also heard a stuttering gasp from the old man beside her. She glanced at Mr. White, noticing his horror.

  Isabella ignored them and glared back at Heru. “What is your problem? You made that rogue and unleashed it onto my city!”

  Mara looked back, seeing Heru glower at Isabella. “It was never my intention,” he said in a low voice.

  “Yet, here it is… running amok in my kingdom,” Isabella retorted.

  “We have rules, yes?” Heru asked. “We have laws and we follow them?”

  “What is your point exactly?” Isabella asked dismissively, folding her arms.

  “My home, the Old Hunting Ground, is a safe haven for my clan,” he explained. “Humans are not allowed to step foot there. Anyone who defies these rules are warned at first, and then hunted and killed. Yesterday, a young man reeking of alcohol trespassed into my domain and goaded me into biting him.”

  Mara glanced at Mr. White with a raised eyebrow. The old man looked humiliated, knowing his son became inebriated and got bitten. No one else seemed to notice. She looked back at Heru, seeing his eyes on her.

  “I bit him on the neck, thinking it would kill him,” Heru explained softly. “But things turned out different.” He frowned at her and scratched the back of his head. “I’m sorry this happened.”

  Mara watched Heru, then gazed at Isabella. “I’m afraid I can’t take this task.”

  Isabella scowled at her. “Why is that? You’re with the Silver Thorns, are you not?”

  “No, I’m helping Master Harold find Saskia’s killer. And in exchange, he’ll help me with my curse.” Mara looked at Mr. White. “Besides, he wants to save the creature.”

  Everyone watched the old man, some appearing curious. Mr. White’s eyes shifted around before addressing Lady Isabella. “Please, that horrible beast is my son. Losing him will be catastrophic and not just to me. He’s the Commander of the Holy Blades.”

  The ruler of Hema looked at him, her red eyes lit up. “Commander White is your son?” Isabella smiled. “You raised a very handsome young man. It’ll be a pity if he is lost.”

  “So, you’ll spare him?” Mr. White asked.

  “I’m aware of his importance to the Faith. If he dies, no doubt Kallikratés will blame me.” She looked to Mara. “Let’s modify the deal. For curing the commander, not only will I cure you, I’ll also reward you in kind. Do we have an agreement?”

  Mara frowned at her. “Why ask me?”

  Isabella’s smile faded away. “Well, you are immortal to an extent. You survived being mauled. The same cannot be said for at least ten of my finest knights. Such an ability is valuable, since I can’t afford to lose more.”

  “Fine, what do I have to do?” Mara inquired. Isabella reached for a bell on a table and rang it a few times. A servant entered with a golden box. He stopped before Mara and opened it. Within the box she found a large syringe filled with red liquid. She reached in and picked it up. Mara glanced at Lady Isabella with curiosity.

  “That is the cure to Lycanthropy. Since he already transformed, he’ll require a very large dose.” Isabella glanced at her sword. “But I warn you—silver is fatal to a werewolf. Using your sword will be out of the question.”

  Mara gaped at Isabella, hoping she was kidding. However, the ruler of Hema wanted this dealt with as soon as possible. There was no time to waste.

  ***

  Within fifteen minutes, Mara returned to the city with Mr. White following her.

  “What a relief! Karl will be saved,” Mr. White said optimistically.

  However, Mara felt conflicted. Commander White attacked her and caused all that carnage last night. Now she had to find and cure him—this was easier said than done. Then again, she would be rewarded. They approached an inn, where they were to part ways for now.

  Mr. White stopped and looked at her. “I hope Karl will be fine.”

  Mara glanced at the cure in her hand. “According to Lady Isabella, this should work.”

  “Yes, I’m very sure it will. But I cannot help but be concerned for his wellbeing. Will he be okay?” Mr. White inquired.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Mara turned around, but felt a grip on her arm. Looking back, she saw the pleading eyes of Mr. White.

  “Please, bring him back,” he pleaded. “Make sure he returns, safe and sound.”

  Knowing this was a very concerned father, Mara searched for Commander White.

  ***

  Mara stood alone in a clearing, just outside the city and near the border to the Old Hunting Ground. Two men with a horse and wagon stood far away. They guided her to this spot, believing she would encounter him here. She found a tree stump and sat down. Mara released a sigh, rested her head on her left hand, and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she heard a snarl. She opened her eyes and saw a large hairy creature approaching her on all fours. It was the werewolf from last night. Mara rose from the stump, holding the cure in her right hand.

  The werewolf dashed at her, snarling and gnashing his jaws. She stood her ground and gripped the cure. It was now or never. The beast lunged at her. He knocked her down, ready to kill her. He snarled for a while, then stopped. The beast saw a needle sticking out of his abdomen. While he lunged at her, Mara stabbed the needle into his hide and administered the cure. The creature pulled the empty needle out in curiosity. Studying the empty syringe, his hand began to tremble. Mara took notice and wasn’t staying close to see what happened next. She shoved him off balance and moved away. The werewolf was unhappy and gave a roar.

  The beast approached with bared teeth, but soon stopped. He fell to the ground and began convulsing. Curling up into a ball, the creature made strange growling noises, then straightened out. He released a bloodcurdling scream of intense pain. The sound was horrifying enough to silence the wilderness. His limbs began to make rapid movements, making his already twisted body even more contorted. The sickening sounds of bones breaking could be heard. His flesh ripped apart and his fur fell out. Rolling onto his stomach, the beast’s flesh broke open and the man emerged.

  Commander White trembled while gazing up at her. His bewildered face still showed traits of the monster he once was. Mara saw his yellow eyes and the fangs in his mouth. The fangs shrank. The yellow hues in his irises faded to green. He remained silent, laying on the ground with moulting skin covering his nakedness. His hair was messy. The commander opened his mouth to speak, but a red liquid spewed forth. He threw his head forward, vomiting blood onto the ground. She grimaced, watching him heave and cough.

  The two men in the distance approached them. “He’s been cured,” said one of them.

  Mara raised an eyebrow. “Really? He doesn’t look
like it.”

  “Lycanthropy is an infection of the blood,” the other man explained. “The cure forces the infected blood out.”

  The two men approached Commander White with a blanket. They wrapped it around him and helped him to his feet. While the commander was being escorted to the wagon, Mara saw how pale his face was. The loss of blood weakened him, yet he still had the strength to glare at her. She was baffled as to why he gave such a look. She just saved him! The two men helped him onto the wagon and rode back to the city. Mara followed behind.

  ***

  Mara followed the wagon as they enter Hemal. Several people watched them. Among them were Mr. White and Evan.

  The old man stared at Commander White in concern, as if he never saw his son so pale and sick before. He gazed at Mara. “What happened to him?”

  “The cure worked as it should,” Evan said, taking a step forward. He looked at the old man. “Your son will need a blood transfusion.”

  The men helped the commander off the wagon, then escorted him to the clinic.

  Mr. White gazed at the steward. “What do you mean?”

  “Since being forced to vomit the infected blood, he’ll need a transfusion to compensate for the blood lost. I assure you he’ll be fine.” The steward glanced at Mara. “Lady Isabella expresses her gratitude. Please, come with me to the castle.”

  A carriage appeared. As Mara and the steward entered it, she noticed Mr. White not accompanying them. She looked back at him, seeing him shake his head.

  “I wish to stay with Karl and make sure he recovers,” Mr. White said.

  Evan nodded. “Very well. Another carriage will be available for you. Lady Isabella has decided to welcome you both.”

  The carriage took off.

  The ride to Bartharoy Castle was uneventful and silent. Once the carriage reached the castle, the two got out and approached the gate.

  “Thank you for dealing with the werewolf. You did Hema a great favour,” Evan said. “Please, come inside. Milady offers her grand hospitality to you.”

  Mara followed him into the castle, through the frigid gardens, past the large doors, and into the cold and dark foyer. Evan walked ahead of her.

  “This way,” he beckoned. She followed him up the main stairs and turned right. He took her to an arranged guest room. The room was much larger than her quarters at Greyward Hold. Even the bed looked more comfortable and luxurious.

  “Dinner will be in a few hours,” Evan said. “Make yourself comfortable for the time being.”

  Evan left Mara to her own devices. Looking at the bed, she approached it. Laying down, she thought about the cure and its extremes. The sight of seeing Commander White vomit out his blood was burned into her mind. The bed offered lots of comfort, relaxing her weary bones. Dozing off to sleep, Mara hoped not to suffer a similar fate when she received the cure.

  Chapter Seven

  The Cure

  Two hours later, she awoke to three knocks on the door. Getting up, Mara left her room and headed towards the main dining hall. Entering the dining hall, she found the others were already seated. The commander and his father sat at one end of the table while Heru sat on the other end. Lady Isabella was seated at the centre.

  Hema’s queen looked to Commander White and smiled. “I see you’re doing well. You look better already,” she told him. “I hear you recovered within two hours, as if yesterday never happened.”

  The commander stood still with folded arms and closed eyes. A frown was stuck on his face. Mara could tell he remained unhappy about being bitten.

  “I am,” he began. “No thanks to him.”

  Heru kept his cool and watched him with a forced smile. “None of this would have happened if you hadn’t trespassed into my domain.”

  Commander White shook his head.

  Mara noticed his outfit. He wore a white shirt with a dark grey vest over it. The vest had golden buttons. A gold chain connected the top button and the left breast pocket. She also saw black dress pants and matching shoes. His father probably retrieved a new change of clothes for him. A glass sat next to him with a small trace of wine remaining.

  “You gave no warning and attacked me,” Commander White hissed. He opened his eyes and saw Mara. The others noticed her as well.

  “So nice of you to join us,” Lady Isabella addressed her.

  Coming closer to the dinner table, Mara spotted a vacant chair opposite to Hema’s ruler and the Faith’s disciples. She sat down and removed her mask, giving everyone a view of her scar-riddled visage.

  “Thanks for ruining my appetite,” Commander White said, directing his aggression from Heru to Mara. She looked up at the commander, seeing him grimace at the sight of her face.

  “Oh my,” Mr. White uttered, dropping his jaw. Even Heru and Lady Isabella looked astonished. She glanced at everyone, noticing their surprised and disgusted reactions. Mara felt ashamed, wanting to run back to her room.

  Lady Isabella rose from her seat. “I figure now’s the time to reward you.”

  She reached for a bell and rang it a few times. An audible chime resonated in the dining hall. A servant arrived with a golden box. He approached Mara and placed it before her. The servant stepped back and left. Mara opened the box, revealing a bag worth five hundred gold, a glowing white stone, and a vial filled with red liquid. Her eyes were drawn to the milky white stone, shining like a star. She reached into the box and lifted the stone up for everyone to see.

  “This is…” Mara began, but the stone crumbled. It shattered into fine dust, releasing the magic within. Absorbed by her hand, the glow spread over her arm and eventually her whole body. After the light faded, Mara noticed the commander rising to his feet. He stared at her in astonishment.

  “Her face,” Mr. White began, his eyes growing wide with shock. “She looks so human!”

  Hearing his words, Mara reached for a spoon. She saw her reflection and was stunned. Mara no longer looked like an undead creature, but a human woman. With a free hand, she reached for her face. Mara felt like crying out of joy. She lowered her hood to reveal long dark hair tied in a loose messy braid.

  “What was that?” Commander White demanded. “How did she change?”

  “That was a healing stone,” Mara said. She looked away from her reflection and glanced up at him. The commander studied her face. Mara turned away from his scrutinizing gaze and looked at Lady Isabella. “Master Harold told me about them. He said they can help.”

  “And it did,” Isabella said. “I kept it for a while, but have no use for it. Since you’re an undying, I figured you’d benefit more from it. But be warned—the stones crumble upon use and they’re rare to find. Try not to die often.”

  Mara nodded.

  Mr. White gazed at Lady Isabella. “She’s an undying?”

  “I thought the curse was cast only once?” Heru questioned.

  Mara looked perplexed. This was discussed at the meeting, but it could be possible they missed out on that detail. Although Heru’s question made her curious. She gazed at Lady Isabella. “Do you know about the Curse of the Undying?”

  “The curse was cast upon an individual long ago,” according to Hema’s ruler. “The woman, whose name has been long forgotten, sought to break the curse no matter the cost. But the curse was rooted deep within her soul, and thus she broke it in two. One half remained with her while the other half created a reincarnation. Unfortunately, the reincarnation also inherited the curse. Upon death, the soul breaks in half, repeating the cycle.” Looking to her guests, Lady Isabella gestured to Mara. “It is my belief that she’s one of the unfortunate inheritors. Lost and cursed—a true immortal who’ll never know the peace of death.”

  Heru and Mr. White watched Mara in shock. Commander White’s face remained stuck in a frown as he kept his judgemental gaze on her. The tale Lady Isabella shared seemed unbelievable and almost insane. A broken soul scattered across time, and she was one of them. If this was true, what about the White Lady? Mara wasn’t one t
o think of such possibilities. Then again, she had another dilemma on her hands—her amnesia.

  Mara gawked at Hema’s queen and asked, “How do you know this?”

  Isabella gave a smug smile. “Well, my dear, if you have lived as long as we have, you are bound to learn many things about our world. I learned about the Curse of the Undying from Morgan of Désir, who originally hailed from Thoron.” She glanced at the two disciples. “Some of us have lived longer than the gods.”

  Mr. White looked dumbfounded. Commander White scowled at the vampire. The ruler of Hema smiled back, not caring if she caused offence.

  “Do you know how to remove it?” Mara asked.

  Isabella looked at her dismissively. “I do not possess that knowledge. However, I’m positive Master Harold will help you. He’s the most knowledgeable about your predicament.”

  Glancing back into the box, Mara noticed the vial filled with red liquid. “The cure?”

  “Yes,” Isabella answered. “It’ll rid you of the putrid essence of the mongrel. Such an unfortunate creature, like you, has had your fill of bad luck. And the last thing you need is to become a beast. I hope you take it.”

  Mara took the vial out of the box. With her free hand, she reached for the crystal stopper that seals the potion within.

  “Wait,” a male voice called to her.

  Mara stopped and looked at Heru. He had risen from his seat with an arm raised towards her.

  “Do you really want to take the cure?” Heru asked, lowering his arm.

  She stared at him. “I need it.”

  Mara reached for the lid again. Heru began to move towards her.

  “It’s not as bad as you think,” he told her.

  She stopped and glanced back at him. “I was turned against my own will.”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s not so bad to be a werewolf.”

  Isabella laughed. “What makes you think she wants to stay as a mongrel?”

  Heru addressed Mara. “If you remain a werewolf, I’ll take care of you and give you the best life I could ever offer.”