The Living Curse

Chapter Two: Truth Be Told





She woke with a start, to find herself still at her desk with books sprawled out in front of her. She steadied her breathing, and wiped beads of sweat from her forehead on the sleeve of her frayed red sweatshirt. She glanced down at the chapter she had been reading, “How to Kill a Goblin”, ridiculous, she thought. She’d been killing them for years. She crossed the small, white room to her bathroom, and studied herself in the mirror. It was framed by the glaringly white walls, small chips of paint decaying like dead skin.

She had purplish circles under her dark eyes this morning from her restless sleep, making them seem even darker. As she looked into them, she remembered the faint spatters of green and orange that had once laced the brown, but now could only see dark, near black depths. Her hair clung to her face, drenched with sweat, reminding her of fine china. Nineteen years old, and every strand of hair on her head was pure and startling white.

As she looked herself up and down, she realized just how tired she looked. Aside from the dark circles, her skin was paler than usual, containing none of its usual glow, and was pulled tightly around her mouth. Her existence seemed almost transparent, a quality she wasn’t used to. Her thoughts wandered back to Daniel and she felt a pang of guilt. Now, the dream haunted her most nights, always the same. The most painful part was that the dream was not as much a dream as it was a memory. That night would claw at her forever, she thought, wishing she could have the boy she once knew back. He’d once been the one who would never trade his soul for power, and would never give up love in favor of hatred.

A loud, sharp knock at the door snapped her out of her thoughts. Her bare feet padded across the deep blue carpet as she moved to open the door. In passing, she kicked some dirty clothes underneath her bed. Glancing, through the small hole in the door, she confirmed what she already thought to be true.

She swung open the heavy white door, and moved aside to allow the girl to follow her inside. The girl, small in stature, flung herself casually down on the bed and let out a small squeak as she nearly lost her balance. She was clad in her pajamas: an oversized t-shirt and sweat pants. Her brown hair was pulled up in a bun on the top of her head, with a few curls, escaping their bondage, hanging around her face.

“Morning” she said in a slightly groggy voice.

“I can tell by your tone that you haven’t had your precious coffee yet.” Nameh said playfully.

“I can tell by your tone that you’re about to give me another lecture on it. Lighten up, it’s the lifeblood of my existence.” she defended, while brushing a curl from her face with a slender finger.

“Yeah, and the lifeblood of a vampire’s existence is actual blood, but I think you’re more dependent.” she said, and gave Mira that sideways look that always made her giggle.

“So, are you going to drive a stake through my heart?” she asked, pretending to be hurt. Nameh watched as she pretended to be mortally wounded by the prospect alone, and fell limp against the pillow.

“Are you through?” Nameh asked casually.

“Oh yes, quite.” she answered in a chipper voice.

“Quite? Plus, that’s not even close to how a vampire dies.” she thought for a moment, and added, “Well, dies again.”

“Are you really correcting my vampire death reenactment?” she asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

“Well, I would know.” she teased.

“Just because you like to go out on rogue vampire killing sprees doesn’t mean that I don’t know how to act.” She brushed the back of her hand against her forehead as she swooned back, in a display of drama. Nameh laughed at this mockingly uncharacteristic gesture. They often made fun of the drama club at the Academy, though Mira was a part of it.

“It’s not only vampires. I like to kill all rogue things equally,” she said with a disingenuous proper tone, and paused. “You’ve come with me before.”

“Yeah, a few times, but I’m trying not to get thrown out of training.” she said with a warning look. Nameh dismissed the subject to avoid the same argument again.

“If no one knows, no one gets hurt…or thrown out.” She said lightly. Alright, let’s go get you some coffee before you start coming after my blood instead.” she said, rising to leave.

“What if you get yourself killed?” she asked, with genuine concern in her big, hazel eyes.

“Are you really worried about that?” she started, “Few things have ever landed a blow on me. Besides, I mostly fight the undead and the cursed, so that’s about the worst that could happen.” She hadn’t intended for the comment to sound cocky, but she knew it had come off that way.

“What, you ending up as a blood-sucker, or a werewolf, or some half-demon?” Her voice was escalating, and Nameh was not in the mood for more of Mira’s sensible and well-backed arguments.

“Don’t be ridiculous, no one believes in half-demons, haven’t you been reading your text books?” she joked.

Mira only looked at her, obviously not reassured by her joking. Her eyes seemed to plead with her: Why are you doing this?

Nameh let out a small sigh, and looked slightly frustrated. Mira hardly ever gave her a hard time, but this time, she was really concerned. “Fine, I’m going to show you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”

“Nameh, it’s me, I’m not going to tell anyone.” she said, almost laughing.

“No, I’m serious; you’re probably going to think that I’m crazy. I don’t care how messed up you think I am, you can never tell anyone.” she said, with a firm tone.

“Alright, I get it.” Mira said warily.

Nameh sat slowly down on the bed, gaining the composure to show Mira what she had never shown anyone else, dared never show anyone else. She lifted her right foot so that it lay on her left knee, angling it so that her friend could not see the bottom.

“Okay, so don’t freak out.” Nameh said, trying to urge calmness into her. She turned her foot to reveal the silver-gray mark on the heel. She winced as Mira’s eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open. She breathed in, ready to say something, but she was cut off.

“Now, remember how I said don’t freak out?” she said with a weak smile.

“Don’t freak out? Are you kidding me, when did you do-” she stammered for the words, “that!” She pointed a delicate finger at the mark as though it were a plague.

“I’ve had it for about a year” she said carefully, retaining her calm. Mira began to rant, and Nameh tuned out. She let her head tilt back against the wall. Suddenly, she wanted to get out, she was feeling trapped again. It wasn’t because of Mira; she was just being a good friend, worrying about her when she did something stupid.

She longed to feel her muscles work as she lunged into battle, to feel the burn on her heel as she summoned strength, magic, and healing. They told her it was a side effect of the Shask, to want to fight, but she knew better. She had always wanted to fight.

Battling the Harpy in her dream had reminded her of the feeling she had missed for the last two weeks, but she sensed that someone had been watching her, and she thought it unwise to leave the academy. She had thought that the mark might let Mira be at ease when she went out fighting; it was, after all, for protection. She was wrong.

She tuned back in to hear Mira say, “That’s a magic mark, Nam. They’ll throw you out if they find that!” Nameh couldn’t help but smirk, as her friend called her Nam. She only used that nickname when she was saying something she really meant, or when she was trying to get through to her. Mira went on, but she didn’t truly yell at Nameh, she never really did; she just had to be the voice of reason in her life because she had none of her own.

“I don’t care anymore.” she said simply. “I’m already stronger than everyone here with the small amount of magic I have, and I’m learning more. It’s not dark magic, Mira; you know I would never do that. I want to fight, and I’m not getting a fight here. I’m done training…” she pulled courage from the Shask, “I’m going to join the Vine.”

Mira only stared. Her lack of words was even more painful than anything she could ever say. She knew she was feeling hurt; she should have shared her plans with her friend earlier. Mira had learned to conceal her emotions more over the past few years Nameh had known her, and it served her well now.

“You’re… leaving?” She stared in disbelief.

“Not forever, I’ll come back to see you.” she pleaded with her to understand. Mira was silent again for a moment, trying to comprehend the blow she had just received. Suddenly, everything seemed to click, and she looked up at Nameh. Her eyes held a confidence and a certainty that seemed foreign even to her.

“I’m going with you.” she said definitively.

Nameh’s eyes were wide; this was not the answer she had expected from her friend that she knew so well. “Mira…” she began warily, but she was interrupted.

“No, you’re obviously not coming to me for my opinion; you’ve already made up your mind, right?” She nodded. “Then I’m going with you. We fight together; we’ve always fought together.” She paused, letting the words sink in. “You know, I’m not ticked because you got the mark; I’m ticked because you didn’t take me with you, that you didn’t even tell me.”

Nameh was taken aback, she knew Mira better than she knew anyone; they were always extensions of each other. Even in battle, they knew each other’s next move before they made it. Mira was very open, telling her just about everything; Nameh was always the one who had kept secrets. No one, not even her best friend, knew about Daniel and her past life. Despite this openness, she hadn’t been expecting her to demand to come along.

“Mira, you’re not a fighter. You don’t even like to fight, you’re only here because of your parents. You don’t have to follow in their footsteps.”

“That’s not what this is about; this is about a blood oath that we took on the first day of second year here. We swore to fight together, always. You already leave me behind while you’re here. You’re not going without me.” She knew that there was going to be no convincing Mira once she had her mind made up. She tried anyway.

“You don’t even know if you can bear the Shask, if you can’t, the Vine won’t have you.” She meant this to be said gently, but offended her friend a little.

“You mean that you don’t think I’m strong enough. I’ll be able to, I’m stronger than you think.” she said with a twinge of bitterness.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Of course I know you’re strong, we’ve been battling together for two years.” she said with sincerity. Her friend searched her face to find the sincerity that she heard. She seemed to find it, and shrugged off the issue.

“When are we leaving?” Mira asked, with that same intensity.