The Weight Of The Curse Gnawed At My Soul. The Ring, An Ancient Thing Of Terrible Beauty, Seemed To Pulse With a Life Of Its Own, Each Beat Echoing In My Chest Like The Ticking Of a Clock That Only Counted Down To Disaster. The Village Was Dying, And With It, Any Hope I Had Of Redemption. Desperation Had Driven Me To Seek Help, But The Question Was—Where Could I Find Aid Against An Evil That Had Been Sealed Away For Centuries?
One Night, In The Midst Of My Paranoia, I Overheard a Conversation In The Tavern. a Low Murmur Of Voices Floated Through The Smoke-Filled Room, One Name Standing Out: Martha. They Spoke Of Her As a Healer, Yes, But Also Of Something More—Something Otherworldly. They Said She Could Heal Wounds That No Mortal Hands Should Have Been Able To Mend. The Whispered Stories Hinted At Strange Abilities, Powers That Went Beyond Herbs And Salves.
Curiosity Gripped Me. If She Could Help The Sick, Perhaps She Could Help Me With The Curse I Had Unleashed. The Next Morning, I Set Out To Find Her.
It Wasn't Hard To Find Martha; The Path To Her Cottage Wound Through The Thick Woods Just Beyond The Village. It Was a Place Of Isolation, Where The Trees Seemed To Grow Darker The Closer You Got. When I Arrived, I Found Her Tending To a Small Herb Garden, Her Hands Moving Gracefully Among The Plants, As Though She Were Part Of The Earth Itself.
"Martha," I Called, My Voice Tentative.
She Turned, Her Sharp, Green Eyes Locking Onto Mine. There Was Something Unnerving About Her Gaze, As Though She Could See Straight Through Me, Peeling Back My Layers To The Very Core Of My Being.
"What Do You Seek, Elya?" She Asked, Her Voice Soft Yet Commanding.
I Swallowed. "Help. Something Terrible Has Happened. There's a Curse... And I've Brought It Upon This Village."
Her Expression Did Not Change. Instead, She Nodded As If She Had Known This Moment Would Come. "Come Inside. There Are Things We Need To Discuss."
As We Sat By Her Fire, I Told Her Everything—About The Grave, The Ring, And The Horrors That Had Followed. Martha Listened, Her Expression Impassive, But Her Eyes Glowed Faintly In The Firelight.
"There Are Forces Older Than You Can Imagine," She Said Quietly. "I Have Dealt With Such Things Before. Not All Powers Are Meant To Be Controlled. And The Ring You Hold... It Is One Of Them."
Her Words Sent a Chill Down My Spine. I Had Never Believed In The Supernatural—At Least Not In Any Real Sense—But Now, Faced With The Evidence Of Its Existence, I Could No Longer Deny The Truth.
"I Can Help You," She Continued, Her Gaze Fixed On The Ring In My Pocket. "But You Will Need More Than Just Me. You Need People Who Can Match The Spirit's Power."
"What Do You Mean?" I Asked, Confusion Clouding My Mind.
"You'll See," She Replied Cryptically. "But Be Warned—There Are Those Who Seek Power Like This For Themselves. You Must Be Cautious."