A Life Without the Curse
The steady beeping of machines filled the hospital room, a stark contrast to the silence that had settled over the past three days. The air was heavy with exhaustion, worry, and a fragile sense of hope. Liana and Damien had barely left their chairs, their hands intertwined as they kept silent vigil beside their unconscious friends. Their parents—Lord Ardan and Elara, Lord Aldric and Seraphina—were just as drained.
Sleep had been fitful, stolen in short bursts between prayers and desperate wishes. The doctor entered quietly, holding a clipboard, but the hopeful look in his eyes made Elara's heart lurch. "They're waking up," he announced gently. Liana gasped, bolting upright. Damien sat up straighter, rubbing his face in disbelief. Elara covered her mouth, eyes brimming with tears, while Seraphina whispered a silent prayer.
Aldric and Ardan exchanged a glance—one they hadn't shared in decades. Not of hatred. Not of blame. But of shared relief. The group rushed into the room, their hearts pounding.
Romeo stirred first, blinking against the harsh hospital lights. His body felt heavy, sluggish, but the warmth of familiar faces filled him with comfort. Venecia groaned beside him, turning her head toward her family. "You're awake," Liana breathed, pressing a shaking hand to her lips. "Thank the heavens," Damien exhaled, gripping Romeo's arm tightly. Elara let out a strangled sob, cupping Venecia's face.
"We thought we lost you," she whispered. Seraphina reached for Romeo's hand, her fingers trembling. "You scared us," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. Aldric and Ardan stood stiffly behind their wives, their expressions unreadable. But the way Aldric's hand twitched, as if he wanted to reach out but didn't know how, spoke volumes. Venecia swallowed, her throat dry. "How long...?" "Three days," the doctor replied with a reassuring smile. "You've been unconscious, but your vitals have been stable. It's a miracle you woke up without complications." Romeo let out a slow breath.
"Three days..." He turned to Venecia, a silent conversation passing between them. They weren't just waking up from unconsciousness. They were waking up to a world without the curse. A world where everything had changed. And there was one more thing left to do.
Venecia glanced at Romeo, then at the box sitting on the bedside table—the book and journal inside, their final pieces of proof. She looked up at her father. "There's something we need to tell you." Ardan frowned. "Venecia, you just woke up. You need to rest." "No," Romeo said, his voice steady. "We need to talk. Now." The storm was coming. And this time, they were ready.
The tension in the room is suffocating. Romeo and Venecia stand before their families, the weight of history pressing down on them. Their fathers—Lord Aldric and Lord Ardan—sit on opposite sides, their wives beside them. Liana and Damien hover in the background, uneasy, knowing this conversation could break everything apart even more. A worn journal. A book filled with notes. A small, locked box.
The remnants of a truth long buried. Venecia's voice is steady as she speaks. "We know why you hate each other." Lord Ardan scoffs, crossing his arms. "Do you? Because I don't think you do." Lord Aldric's eyes narrow. "You have no idea what he did to me—" Romeo cuts in. "Stop." His voice is sharp, commanding. "It was neither of you."
A stunned silence. Venecia opens the book, flipping through old, fragile pages. Romeo presses play on a recording—a distorted voice crackles to life, whispering the truth neither man had ever considered. The project was stolen. Lord Aldric was framed. Lord Ardan was manipulated into believing the worst. The feud, the years of hatred, the suffering—it was all a lie. The fathers go still. Shock. Disbelief. Then something deeper grief. Lord Ardan's breath catches. "No. That can't be right." His whole life—his hatred—was built on a lie. Lord Aldric clenches his fists, voice shaking. "I spent years thinking you turned against me for no reason."
Venecia and Romeo watch as realization hits like a hurricane. Lord Ardan sinks into a chair, hands tangling in his hair. "How could we be so blind?" Lord Aldric laughs. A bitter, hollow sound. "All these years... and we were just pawns?" Elara, Ardan's wife, stares at him, eyes full of sorrow. She had lived with his anger for so long, believing it justified. Now, she sees the truth—a lifetime wasted on a lie. Phina, Aldric's wife, exhales sharply, her voice dangerous and low. "This... this is unforgivable." Lord Aldric and Ardan look at each other, their hatred unraveling into something more fragile regret. Lord Aldric's voice is barely above a whisper. "We were fools." Lord Ardan swallows. "We were betrayed. "A long silence.
Then, the words that had never been spoken before. "I... I'm sorry," Ardan says, voice thick with emotion. Elara presses a hand to his arm. "Ardan..." Lord Aldric turns to Phina. "Phina, I—" She steps back. Cold. Guarded. "Don't. Not now." She looks at Romeo and Venecia. "You've given us the truth. Now, we need time." And with that, the storm finally begins to settle.
******
Liana & Damien
The moon hung low in the sky, its silver light spilling into the hospital garden where Liana and Damien sat side by side on a wooden bench. The air was cool, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of night insects. For the first time in weeks, they weren't bracing for disaster. There were no life-threatening rituals, no ancient curses looming over their best friends, no blinding explosions of magic. Just the quiet, the stars, and the relief of knowing that Romeo and Venecia were safe.
Liana exhaled, leaning back against the bench, eyes fixed on the sky. "I swear, I have never been more terrified in my life. You and Romeo need to stop nearly dying. My heart can't take it." Damien chuckled, tilting his head to look at her. "You still stuck around, though." She scoffed, rolling her eyes, but there was a softness in her expression that hadn't been there before. Her fingers idly traced the grain of the wooden seat before brushing against Damien's hand—just barely. "Yeah," she admitted, voice quieter. "I did."
A comfortable silence stretched between them, filled only by the rustling leaves and the distant murmur of voices from inside the hospital. Damien studied her profile—the way the wind tousled her hair, the way the moonlight softened her features. They had been through hell together, watching their best friends suffer under a fate neither of them could truly understand. Yet, somehow, through all the chaos, they had remained. He smirked. "You know, we make a pretty good team."
Liana turned to face him, arching a brow. "Oh? Is that your way of saying you'd be lost without me?" "I mean..." He shrugged playfully. "I wouldn't not be lost without you." She nudged him with her elbow, and he laughed, the sound light and genuine. It felt strange laughing like this after everything they'd been through. But it also felt right. Liana sighed, this time in contentment. "It's weird, isn't it? After everything, after the magic, the near-death experiences... we're still just us." Damien nodded.
"Yeah. And maybe... that's enough." She looked at him then, really looked at him. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something steady, unwavering. For all the things in the world that had shifted, some things had remained the same. Their friendship. Their love. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.
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To be continued.