I
❝The Shaman. Royals and civilians alike have trembled in the breath of his name, syllables dared unspoken of by the mere impermanent being, for their fears are spawned from the spell he laid on this land. A curse so cruel, unheard of, for the incantation of bloodshed was of ancient tongue, that when sought for, even the discerning could not decipher. Left in the shadows, unknowing of this imprecation until the next generation would be born, years later, with this nefarious jinx in their pathetic blood.❞
There is a legend in the country of Elysia that around two hundred years ago, after seeing the pain and suffering of the commoners, slaves, and servants, a great shaman issued a curse over the vile beings that had dared spill blood on the Maker’s homeland. Being connected to the earth, he could hear the desire for revenge in the howling of those wronged spirits.
Upon feeling their agony, he promised when the day that he uttered the curse aligned with the Spring Awakening, a night on which spirits are allowed to roam freely and meet their kin, they would be allowed to rouse in powerful bodies and avenge their former selves.
Over the years, the threat of the curse has faded from people’s minds and has become a tool for disciplining children—a mere fairytale; however, what if it was all true?
What if two hundred years had given those tormented souls new bodies through reincarnation and brought them face to face with their reborn killers?
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