Over the next few days, Kael and Eiran threw themselves into their work, trying to find a way to break the curse.
They delved into ancient texts, scoured magical relics, and experimented with spells, but the solution remained elusive.
Meanwhile, the Vorthal forces continued their siege, growing bolder with each passing day.
Despite Eiran's magical defenses and Kael's strategy, the kingdom's resources were running thin. If the war didn't end soon, they would be overrun.
One evening, as they studied a particularly ancient tome, Eiran paused, his expression troubled."There's something we haven't considered," Eiran said, his voice low.
"The curse can only be broken by blood. My blood."Kael's heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"Eiran's gaze met Kael's, his eyes filled with sorrow.
"The curse was created by my ancestor, and only someone from that bloodline can break it. But to do so… I may have to give my life."Kael's chest tightened, a surge of panic rising within him.
"No. There has to be another way."Eiran shook his head. "I've searched for years, Kael. This is the only way. The curse is too strong, too deeply rooted in both our families."
Kael grabbed Eiran's arm, his voice firm. "I won't let you die for this. There has to be another way."Eiran looked at him for a long moment, then placed a hand on Kael's cheek.
"I'm not afraid of death. I'm only afraid of what will happen to you if the curse remains."Kael's heart ached, but he couldn't accept it.
He wouldn't lose Eiran—not after everything they'd been through.