The Criswell's Curse

Back in the Wharton’s estate, night had settled in. Ophelia laid on her side, observing the bright moonlight falling on the floor, courtesy of the beautiful full moon. Faint dust particles flew in the air, mimicking minor sparkles who would soon dissipate, becoming one with the carpet covering the floor.

The young lady’s soul was restless, anxious about the sudden changes in Alvin’s behavior. Her eyes felt heavy, but her mind was in the middle of a waltz, twirling and dancing around uncontrollably, forcing her to remain awake.

It wasn’t unusual for minor changes to happen in her lives, but never once had that man demanded her return. She knew how dangerous the Duke could be, how he would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. In fact, she’d seen it firsthand.

Clarity struck her, forcing her eyes to suddenly close. The moon had moved.

Swiftly, she pulled the bedsheets away sitting on the bed. She knew what she had to do. If she remained in the bliss of ignorance, her plan would go to ruins, thus, it was imperative to find out what that man had in store.

What was his ultimate plan? Why was she an obstacle to it? And how could she change it?

Her train of thoughts stopped when the clashing sound of a sword voyaged inside the room. As she tiptoed towards the window, the sounds became far sharper, higher. Jade was training in the back garden. His hands carried a metal sword, usually used for practice.

That stupid boy... Leaving Nero curled up at the end of the bed, Ophelia grabbed her coat and exited the room, hurrying downstairs.

The garden was completely empty, allowing only the rather annoying melody of cicadas to echo through the trees, and a chilly breeze blew, forcing the leaves to rattle, communicating between one another.

Reaching the back area of the house, she stopped. Jade was shirtless, practicing with a sword he had borrowed from the guards’ training grounds. The moonlight shone brightly upon his body, allowing his pearlescent hair to glimmer as if he was one with the night, as if he was a moon fairy who had blessed the land with its presence. Sweat drops fell on his back and weak arms, hitting the floor from the harsh swings his body created.

Ophelia frowned. His figure had deep wounds, scars, bruises, which would take weeks to heal. Every time he moved, he flinched, as if the movements were causing him an abnormal amount of pain. Even then, they were precise and strong, as if he had been a swordsman all his life.

A hint of guilt clouded her stony heart. Was she forcing him to go through another traumatic experience again? The deep scars around his neck, ankles and wrists had just started to heal, and yet, here he was, forcing his body to the limit.

“Jade, what are you doing?” Hearing her voice made him shudder. He wasn’t expecting her to be awake.

Slowly, he turned his body. Ophelia was in a beige nightgown, light and flowy, almost as pale as her skin, holding a thick pink blanket. Against the light of the moon, her bodily shape could be seen. Reactively, he averted his eyes, cheeks and ears completely flushed.

“I’m training, Master.” Were the only words he spat out.

“Training is important, but so is resting. You won’t be able to save me if you’re exhausted.” She sighed.

It was true Jade was far from fit. His body was underweight due to several months of starvation, but that wasn’t something some months of training, healing and eating couldn’t fix. There was no rush, at least not yet.

The slave glanced at her, a pained expression on his face. An expression she had seen way too many times before. In his head, right now, he was nothing but a useless creature; something he desperately wanted to change.

“When was the last time you had a good night of sleep?” Her words were calm, gentle even.

“I don’t remember...” He mumbled.

“So, it’s not that you don’t want to sleep, it’s more like, you can’t sleep...”

His eyes widened. How did she understand his situation with three simple words?

Insomnias had chased him from a young age, but they became worse after leaving his village. Years had gone by and the times he actually slept were because the body demanded it. Sadly, they never lasted more than a handful of hours here and there.

“Come here.” Ophelia sat on the cold grass, leaning her back against the truck of a tree. The slave looked at her, dumbfounded. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” Her voice was harsher now.

Still reluctant, he approached her, sitting right by her side. The slave glanced at her, to her crystal clear eyes, filled with too many weights, too many worries.

In a single day, he had seen her resolve. How she handled those who disrespected her, how she kept her enemies at bay, how she controlled the environment around to her will. And yet, he also saw her demons. How she ran to her chambers with the mention of his name, how she cried in desperation behind closed doors, how she resolutely accepted her death as a destined truth.

“Lay here.” Her right-hand tapped a comfortable looking lap.

“I couldn’t do something like that, Master... I-...” Noticing her glare, he gulped. Nervously, he laid his head on her legs as gently as possible. His eyes widened when he felt the blanket cover his body and her hand reaching over his head, patting it softly in methodical movements.

“You know... Mother used to sing for me every night.” An intense sadness embraced her nostalgic tone, but he didn’t dare to look, to see the sorrow on her face. “She used to say it keeps nightmares away.”

“What happened?”

“She died.” It seemed like she didn’t intend to pursue the conversation further.

“She must’ve been a wonderful mother.” Unconsciously, Jade made one last statement. His sweat had now dried up while his heart rate was slow, monotone even.

As the moon bathed them with its cold light, Ophelia sang a beautiful lullaby, one of her mother’s favorites. Its words carried the weight of the ancestor’s messages, as they attempted to teach us the righteous path by showing the darkness that lurked in everyone’s hearts.

The song was a tale about a young boy whose powerful magic God himself had blessed; however, because of such power, Demons had cursed him to live for eternity. He was a pitiful kid, who watched all his beloved ones perish in the hands of time, one by one. Drowned in sorrow, he went on a rampage, killing many until powerful mages sealed his power away. The boy who had by now become a man cried in pure joy, as they had finally freed him from the dreadful curse.

A beautiful story created by the creativity of humans; lies, to teach kids to be afraid of the unknown, of magic, of demons and to remain humble, good and kind. Without noticing, her singing had awoken Nero, who now sat on the window ledge, staring down at the couple from above.

As she continued to sing, lullaby after lullaby, patting Jade’s head gently, the wind continued to pleasantly blow, almost as if intending to send her voice to all the pained souls lost in the deep, cold, and dark night.