The Cursed Herald

by Rina S Mamoon

  Surprised reactions and murmurs of excitement flowed through the crowd.

  “I have risen to stand by my Goddess. Together we’ll vanquish the Dark One,” Commander White declared. “Peace will reign for all eternity!”

  People began to cheer. Mara glanced around, seeing how in awe they were of the prophecy coming to pass.

  The commander then warned, “However, there’s something you must know—the truth spoken from our Goddess!”

  She gazed back at him. ‘He wouldn’t, would he?’

  Commander White raised his right hand before him, tightening it into a fist. “One thousand years ago, a wicked girl awoke the Dark One and allowed it to destroy our nation. Because of her, the Cursed Herald, the Golden Age ended. This Era of Darkness—where monsters rule and chaos reign—she is to blame!”

  A fire burned in people’s hearts, and it grew larger as the commander added more fuel. Mara took a step back, shaking her head. How could he do this to her?

  One of the followers shouted, “Death to the Cursed Herald!”

  Mara grew afraid. If anyone in this crowd saw her face, for resembling the woman who awoke the Dark One, they would tear her apart.

  “The Cursed Herald has returned once again, seeking to destroy Kallisto and the Faith, and awaken the Dark One,” Commander White said with a booming voice. “She already threatens the world by breaking four of the seven seals. She must be stopped!”

  The crowd roared in agreement.

  Realizing she couldn’t stay any longer, Mara slipped away. So far, no one noticed her.

  Walking down the streets, she witnessed a woman being accosted by two men in golden armour. They were Holy Blades. The young woman appeared to be a middle class citizen. She possessed tanned skin, brown eyes, and dark hair. The woman reminded Mara of herself if she regained her humanity. Mara took refuge in a corner and watched. What were they doing?

  “By order of the Faith, you are under arrest,” one of the Holy Blades said. The other walked behind the woman to apprehend her.

  The young woman looked frightened. “Why? What have I done?”

  Instead of giving an answer, they arrested her without hesitation.

  “What are you doing to my daughter?” An older man approached them. He shared the same skin, eye, and hair colour as the young woman. Mara figured he was the father. The man appeared unhappy to see his daughter being treated in such a way. “Why are you arresting her? She committed no crime.”

  His response was a fist to the face. One of the Holy Blades punched him, knocking him out cold. The old man fell to the ground where he remained unmoving. The daughter grew horrified.

  “Father!” She tried to run to him, but the Holy Blade restraining her wouldn’t relent.

  Mara watched from around the corner while they took the woman away. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. Weren’t the Holy Blades supposed to protect mankind? Those two acted like thugs rather than noble knights. She glanced at the father. The old man remained on the frozen ground until someone else found him and called for help. When the coast was clear, she exited the shadows. After taking a few steps, another pair of Holy Blades came her way. With quick thinking, she dashed back into the alley. The Holy Blades didn’t notice and walked by.

  Getting around would be difficult, but Mara wasn’t going to let anything get in her way. She needed to find her parents. As she emerged from the dark alley, she found herself in the lower quarters. The scent of smoke reached her nostrils. Something was burning. Mara spotted a plume of black smoke rising over the other buildings. She knew the area where the smoke billowed from. A sense of dread washed over Mara as she went to investigate.

  She hoped Talon’s workshop would still be standing, but a smouldering building greeted her instead. An old man coughed as he emerged from the charred remains of his workshop. Mara recognized the muscular blacksmith by his long grey hair and beard. Ashes covered his entire body. Even his blacksmith’s attire was dirty from the smoke and ashes.

  “Talon? What happened?” Mara asked.

  “What does it fucking look like?” Talon snapped at her. His dark eyes were filled with rage. “I lost my business!”

  She was speechless at first. Her eyes locked onto the blacksmith.

  “How did it happen?”

  Talon took some deep breaths to calm down, then scratched the back of his head. “It started with a rumour, claiming I was offering my services to an enemy of the Faith. The next thing I knew, the Holy Blades showed up and burned my workshop to the ground!”

  She couldn’t believe her ears and frowned. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this at all.”

  “Don’t be,” he replied, becoming more calm. “Edwin must’ve spread that rumour to get back at me. That old bastard was laughing as my workshop burned to the ground!”

  His words didn’t alleviate some of the guilt building within Mara. “No, I’m the reason why you lost your workshop,” she murmured.

  “I assure you it’s not your fault.” Talon kept his right hand behind his back. When he brought his arm around, she noticed a wrapped sword in his possession. The blade was curved like a katana. He handed it to her. “Here, take this.”

  Mara eyed the sword. She had seen it before. Removing the black cover, her eyes widened upon seeing the blue gem mounted in the black and gold hilt.

  “Lord Slayer Godstruck?” Mara gazed at Talon in bewilderment.

  He shrugged. “Figured now’s a good time to give you this, especially since you pissed off the Faith!”

  Mara glanced back at the blade. She now possessed the sword capable of killing anything. “You had this?”

  Talon nodded. “It was delivered by the former master three days ago. He requested this to be handed to you, if and when you escaped.”

  She stared back at Talon. “What day is it?”

  “It’s December 7.”

  “It’s been a week?” She recalled the last time she saw Harold, the former Silver Thorn master. “He sent me to kill the Marionette. After I slew the undying, I ran into the Holy Blades. The commander’s guardian was also there. He claimed Alena would help me.” She shook her head. “It was a trap.”

  “The old master knew this would happen and planned this,” Talon said. “He said you were the rightful heir to Godstruck.”

  She looked back down at the sword. Seeing the blade reminded her of someone who once wielded this weapon. It had been a month and two days since she met Saskia before getting swept up in all those unfortunate events.

  “You should plan a swift exit,” the old blacksmith told her. “Many young women are being arrested. The city is no longer safe.”

  Mara glanced up at him. “Why?”

  “The Faith is hunting the Cursed Herald. They persuaded their followers to turn in possible suspects. The Holy Blades will use lethal force on anyone resisting arrest. Saw a young lass like you slain before my eyes. This was before returning to my workshop.” He looked at the remains of his business. “Damn those Holy Blades. They make my stomach turn.”

  She frowned. “But they know what I look like.”

  “I don’t know. They could be doing this to lure you out. Guilt you into surrendering.”

  She gazed down at Godstruck. Despite obtaining a powerful weapon, she hadn’t forgotten what she came here for. “I need to find Mom and Dad. They live in this city. I need to make sure they’re safe.”

  Talon nodded. “Very well, but be careful and don’t tarry long. I also intend to leave.”

  “Where will you go?” Mara asked, looking at him again.

  “Neither Mirahyll or the Guardsmen did anything when my workshop burned to the ground,” he revealed. “To make matters worse, they went back to using Edwin’s services. I refuse to forge weapons for anyone from this city ever again.” Then, “Now I’m looking for a new place. You mentioned an abandoned house near Haranta Village.”

  Her ears perked up when he mentioned the former herbalist’s house.

  “Yes,
I killed the undying there.” Mara nodded. “It should be safe, but you’ll have to deal with the corpses.”

  Talon rubbed his chin. “Hmm, I see. I’ll see you in a few days, if we’re lucky.”

  Before leaving, the blacksmith noticed her attire and walked around her. Her Silver Thorn armour had seen better days. Various parts of the attire appeared worse for wear, and was also stained in blood. Both the black shirt with gold trimmings and the white tunic underneath appeared fine in the front, but the back side showed several small slices through the cape protecting them. Talon’s eyes remained on her back, figuring she was attacked by several assailants. The black sleeves looked to be intact for the most part. But the open-bust leather corset—held together by two dark leather belts and golden buckles—had a notable slice and appeared to be in the worst shape. The long cloth going down the legs possessed a few worn out spots. Her black pants appeared fine, though the pale fur and feathers lining the thigh high stockings were matted. The black knee high boots were caked in mud. Her gloves appeared to be in the best shape, but that was due to her cleaning them earlier.

  The belt on her hips remained intact as well, holding two pouches, a flask filled with moon water, and a sword.

  He frowned at the sorry state of the attire. Mara reckoned he was either upset by the brutal attack she suffered a few days ago, or the armour he had a hand in making was damaged. It once belonged to Saskia, who brought it before Talon to modify.

  His eyes fell on her sword. “Where did you get this? What happened to the one I gave you?”

  She unsheathed the Holy Blade long sword. “Lost my sword when I got captured. Had to steal this one during my escape.”

  Talon eyed the blade. “Give it here.”

  She handed the sword to him. The blacksmith studied the blade.

  “These swords look nice at first glance,” Talon explained before slamming it down onto the metal anvil. The sword shattered upon impact. She gaped at him, wondering why he did that. “But they have low durability,” he continued. “This will never help you slay anything besides human foes. Edwin is supposed to be a master blacksmith. How could these have shoddy workmanship?” He then handed her another weapon. “This is one of the few swords I have left.”

  She drew the weapon from its black sheath, revealing a Silver Thorn long sword. It appeared similar to the previous one, yet with an elegant silver hilt. The guard was curved towards the blade. Its black grip was long enough for both hands to grasp. The width of the blade was thinner, though longer and weighed about the same. With Godstruck in her possession, she’d be walking around with a target on her back. She might as well use another sword in order to keep her enemies from being aware she now owned the Lord Slayer.

  “A reliable blade is the difference between life and death. Never forget that.” Talon switched his attention back onto her attire. “Your armour could use some repair. I have a few tools left, but they should do the trick.”

  She accepted his services. Even with a few tools, he was able to restore her armour to its former glory; it was almost like new. She was about to pay him, but he shook his head.

  “No, it’s on me,” Talon said. “After what you went through, I can’t take your money.”

  “Oh,” Mara replied, taking her gold back. In a way, he was right. She only had five hundred gold to her name. Before being captured, she owned at least six times more. Thanks to Boyd, Mara was fortunate to get some of it back.

  She watched while Talon made his preparations to leave. She also intended to leave Mirahyll for the time being. Mara wanted to compose her thoughts. She needed to figure out how she was going to explain her predicament to her parents.

  While leaving, Mara spotted a posting on an information board. Her suspicions were confirmed about the Winter Festival not happening. The reason for it was because of the Dark One’s possible awakening. With impending doom approaching, the Faith of Kallikratés had made a request to the Council Hall to cancel all festivities. And all of Terra complied. She was unsure if Hema did the same, but since the Faith finally gained a presence after a thousand years, it was likely the case. Mara frowned at the notice, then left the city.

  Chapter Two

  The First Truth

  The moon peeked through the clouds as an aurora borealis shimmered across the sky. It was past midnight. Mara stared up at the night sky, unmindful of the snow falling around her. Her eyes then drifted to the sleeping city of Mirahyll. It was time to go home.

  Mara hoped Kallisto was lying. She hoped her parents remained the same, as well as Allen and James. All she wanted was everything to be normal. Though it might be impossible for she became anything but normal. Still, she needed to see them.

  She reached into her pocket to retrieve her only healing stone. No longer could she put this off. Holding the shining stone in her right hand, Mara pulled her mask down. Cracks began to form in the white gemstone. It shattered into fine dust, releasing the magic within. It spread over her arm, then her whole body. Every cell tingled with life as she transformed from a raggedy undead creature to a human woman. The colour of her flesh changed from a greyish tint to a healthy tan. Her face grew fuller while colour returned to her full lips. The scleras in her doll-like eyes turned white. As soon as the scars on her face closed up, Mara turned her gaze onto Mirahyll and approached it.

  ***

  She wandered the streets while the city slept. Mara stayed wary of her surroundings in case she encountered a Holy Blade or guardsman. At least the cover of night concealed her presence. Everything seemed familiar, yet different at the same time. There were some places she hadn’t seen before or could not recall. She never considered this before because of her amnesia. The more memories she retrieved, the more differences she saw within the streets she frequented. Her hope of everything staying the same began to fade.

  At least the path to her home remained the same. She arrived at a two-floor wooden house—the Ashwood Residence. It appeared the same as in her dream. Mara hoped her parents remained here as well. She peeked through the window, only to find it much different. Her parents might have bought new furniture. She wandered around and gazed into another window. A couple slept in their bed, buried underneath the covers. Mara finally went to the window to her old room. It sat on the second floor at the back of the house. She scaled the wall, like she did in her youth. Reaching the window, she opened it from the outside and crept into her old room.

  Her room wasn’t the same. The furniture had been changed compared to the last time she left it. Everything was so different, including the frightened little thing in the corner. She was unaware of the small girl tucked away in bed. The child was already aware of the stranger who entered her room. The little girl whimpered in fear. Mara could hear the little cries. By the time she noticed the girl, it was too late.

  The child screamed, “Mommy! Daddy!”

  Mara dashed out the window before the parents came to their daughter’s rescue. She hit the ground and ran as fast as she could. To where, she did not know. Tears flowed from Mara’s eyes as she wondered what happened to her parents.

  ***

  She hid in an abandoned home outside the city. The fallen snow covered her tracks. Mara was laying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. It had been a couple of days since the blunder at her old home. She was clueless as to where Mom and Dad could be. Perhaps Boyd was right and her parents were dead, but she wanted to find them, or at least know where they were.

  Mara also wanted to do something about the hunt started by the Faith. So far, forty women were arrested. All the accused came from the middle or lower class. No one from the upper class or possessing a noble status were considered a suspect. Even Mara noticed such a detail. Some resisted arrest, but didn’t fare well. Twenty were slain. More than half had friends and families killed for trying to hide or defend them. Around fifty people lost their lives in this senselessly cruel act.

  Why were they doing this when they already knew what she looked like? Wa
s it to draw her out? She considered surrendering, but what would happen to her? What should she do? Mara glanced at Godstruck. A thought crossed her mind—the goddess was to blame for all her misfortunes.

  Mara was certain Kallisto was responsible for Karl’s transformation from the kind and caring man to the cold-hearted commander. He would’ve never done the things he did. She tried to think about her prince, but all she saw were the cold eyes of the commander as he stabbed her. She instinctively reached for the spot where she was stabbed. Mara remembered pleading to her former fiancé, but none of her words reached him. Her whole body shook while tears formed in her eyes. She rolled onto her side and tried to sleep. Tears fell onto the cold floor, transforming into frozen crystals.

  ***

  “Mara,” called a female voice.

  Opening her eyes, Mara saw a familiar face looking down at her. She recognized the dark silver armour with blue gems and gold trimmings. The female creature wore a gold-hemmed red hood attached to a flowing cape. The same fabric could be seen on the sides of her legs. On her face was a visor with seven glowing blue eyes.

  “Watcher,” Mara called her.

  It was now morning. She kept her gaze on the Watcher while rising to her feet.

  “I’ve been watching you,” the creature began. “You, who have been lost and cursed for thirty years, have finally returned.”

  Mara frowned. “Did you watch as I broke into some family’s home?” She glanced down at the floor. “I thought they’d still be there, but… I don’t know where they are.”