The Curse of Eternity

Death Twenty

 

An: This is the last chapter I will post.  The Curse of Eternity is now under contract and will no longer be updated on Wattpad. You can continue following the story on my Patreon. The link is on my profile page. I'd like to thank all my readers who have helped me get this far. Also, please check out Avenger's Pathe which is the story that inspired The Curse. 

Ceres and Myorla lead me out of the main dining room doors and to the left. They take another left turn, traversing a hallway I've never seen. It's smaller than the main hallways with steel blue walls and storm-grey marble floors. Every six hands a golden orb hovered brightening the hallway in soft light.

"The House Dal-Raseay isn't as bad as our groans of protest may indicate. It is only one individual who makes us all dread their visit," Myorla explains.

"Wh-Wh-Who?" I ask. The sound is more reminiscent of an owl than a question.

"Lady Dal-Dal-Raseay," she responds with a palpable shiver.

"She is a crazy o'finren p'eratc whose father keeps trying to marry her off to Lord Jerrath," Ceres interjects, "Last time she had the audacity to commandeer rooms near Lord Jerrath and caring not about the rooms prepared for her. Late night she would sneak into his room, but don't worry he tossed her out."

"Don't forget he tossed her out naked," Myorla adds.

"N-Naked?"

"She undressed in Lord Jerrath's rooms so he shoved her out without a speck of clothes so don't worry."

"I-I wasn't w-w-worried."

"Good, you shouldn't. Lord Jerrath has you, he won't turn his eyes anywhere else. Lord Jerrath may be many things, but disloyal isn't one of them," Ceres says.

"W-What?" It's an odd sentiment for someone o'finren bent on killing me, "Why d-didn't he m-m-marry h-her?"

"You mean besides being erratic, irresponsible, and irrational?" Myorla asks.

"Anyone with a scintilla of a brain knows she is poisoned honey. Lord Jerrath can only marry a woman born from Everlasting," inserts Ceres.

"I-I'm n-not b-b-born in E-Everlasting," I say.

"Are you sure?" Myorla asks.

"I-I can c-c-cross Demarcation."

"You are a being saturated in marques and contain a vast amount of lous'rife. It might be that Demarcation has no effect on you. Are you sure you aren't born in Everlasting?"

"N-No. Mupu f-found me w-wandering the forest."

"It is indisputable you fulfill the requirements of the curse, Lord Jerrath is no longer in pain."

"P-Pain?"

"Yes, pain. Lord Jerrath is normally encompassed in a blanket of pain when a bride is not present. Regrettably, all the previous brides accede to the call of death."

"He d-d-doesn't kill th-them?"

"My Dyu's no! Why would he kill the one being that gives him respite?"

Why did he kill me?

"This is the first time in centuries he's been pain-free for more than three nights. He's no longer angry. Even if he were amiable to Lady Dal-Raseay, she could never satisfy the curse's requirements. She causes more pain."