The morning after the ritual dawned with a thick, silver mist curling around the trees. From his perch near the fireplace, Elias watched the swirling fog outside the window with unease. Ever since the night he and Kael ventured into the ruins and brought back the ancient pendant, strange occurrences had plagued their lives—small at first, but growing stronger by the day.
A chill wind swept through the wooden cabin despite the closed shutters, and the pendant hanging on Elias's neck trembled faintly. Kael emerged from the kitchen with two mugs of hot tea. His face was pale, his expression more tired than usual.
"You felt it too last night, didn't you?" Elias asked, his voice low, eyes still on the mist.
Kael nodded as he handed him a mug. "Something stirred. I had a dream, but it didn't feel like a dream. It felt... summoned. There were whispers calling out your name."
"Mine?" Elias blinked.
Kael sat down beside him, pulling his coat tighter. "It said: The first seal breaks where blood remembers."
Elias gripped the pendant instinctively. It pulsed once, like a heartbeat. He recalled what the old scrolls said about the Nine Seals of Reversal, each a step toward unleashing a being so ancient its name had been erased from all human memory.
"The curse is awakening," Elias muttered. "And we're walking straight into it."
—
By midday, they reached the outskirts of the Silent Marsh—a place marked as the first point on the cursed map. Trees here grew twisted, their branches like arms reaching for the sky in agony. There were no birds. No insects. Only silence thick enough to press on their lungs.
"Did your family ever tell you about this place?" Kael asked as they stepped into the tall grass.
"My grandfather warned us never to come here. He said it belonged to those who remember too much," Elias replied.
They walked carefully, but every step seemed to echo, even in the damp earth. At the center of the marsh stood a stone altar—half-sunken, runes etched deep into its moss-covered surface.
Kael pulled out the old journal of Elias's grandfather, flipping to the ink-stained page. "This is the First Remnant. The place where blood must answer blood."
Suddenly, Elias doubled over, clutching his chest. The pendant burned hot. On the altar, blood began to seep from the ancient runes—as if the stone itself was bleeding. Elias's hands trembled.
"It's calling to me—" he gasped. "Something's being drawn out."
Kael caught him just before he collapsed entirely. From the shadows behind them, a figure emerged—cloaked in a robe of writhing darkness. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, but the air around it warped with malevolent energy.
"You've begun the rite," the figure rasped. "The seal is breaking, and with it, your ties to safety, to silence."
"Who are you?" Kael shouted, standing in front of Elias protectively.
"I am the Keeper of the First Curse. And I am here to witness your fall."
With a sweep of its hand, darkness exploded from the figure, surrounding them in a whirlwind of shrieking spirits. Kael drew the protective talisman from his pouch and thrust it forward.
"By the binding of the old names, I cast you back—!" he cried.
The talisman flared, forming a dome of light around them, forcing the figure to recoil. For a moment, the spirits screamed louder, writhing like smoke caught in a storm, before everything fell into silence.
The figure vanished.
Kael dropped to his knees, panting. Elias was still barely conscious, but the glow of the pendant had dimmed.
"It's started," Elias whispered hoarsely. "This... was only the beginning."
Kael's fists clenched. "Then we finish what we started. We survive. Together."
—