Cursed To Love You

The Awakening of Grimhaven

Ren traced his fingers over the stone wall, its rough, cold surface biting into his skin. The tower was silent, save for the faint creaks of ancient wood and the occasional gust of wind that slipped through the cracks in the walls, rattling the windowpanes. Shadows pooled in every corner, and despite the oppressive darkness, he knew every inch of this prison by heart. It was the only home he’d ever known.

His skin, warm and rich with a subtle bronzed glow, felt out of place against the grey, colorless walls. It contrasted even more with the stark white of his hair, which fell in loose waves around his shoulders, untamed and wild. Malis had often sneered at it, calling him “spectral,” but he suspected the insult was less about his appearance and more her bitterness about what he’d become. His eyes, one earthy brown and the other a vivid green, mirrored that contrast—a pair that Malis had always said unsettled others. They won’t even want to look at you, she would hiss, her words as sharp as the blows that would follow.

The scent of bone broth lingered in the air, and Ren breathed it in, savoring the rare warmth it brought to the tower. It was strange how something so simple could remind him of a gentler side to Malis. For the briefest of moments, she almost felt like a mother. Almost.

But tonight was not a night of broth or kindness. His head throbbed where her staff had struck him, a deep gash just above his eyebrow, still bleeding down his face. He touched the wound, feeling the sticky warmth, the tang of iron in the air. Her voice echoed in his mind, a torrent of curses and insults as she laid into him with a fury that seemed inexhaustible. Until that last strike, when something inside him finally snapped. A deep well of darkness erupted from within, wrapping itself around her like a living shadow. He barely registered her strangled scream as her own life was squeezed from her.

A strange relief washed over him as he watched her fall, her body a limp form on the cold stone floor. He stood there, feeling... nothing. Not sorrow, not joy—just the quiet release of a bond finally severed. Burn me, her voice echoed in his memory, a final demand she’d drilled into him as if she somehow knew this day would come.

Ren set about fulfilling her wish, gathering her meager belongings for the pyre. The smell of smoke filled the air, mingling with the earthy rot of the forest beyond the tower, as he watched the flames consume her. It was over. After seventeen years of torment, he was finally free.

He took stock of what he could salvage—books, a change of clothes, the few coins he’d squirreled away over the years. The infinity bag he’d found hidden beneath her cot was the last piece, a treasure he could hardly believe was real. He dropped her artifacts, her crystal ball, everything of value into its depths, the bag swallowing it all without complaint.

Then, for the first time in his life, Ren stepped beyond the tower’s threshold. The forest loomed ahead, thick and oppressive, the air damp and rank with decay. Branches twisted in grotesque shapes, blocking out the light, creating a canopy of perpetual gloom. His heart beat wildly with each step as he ventured deeper, his boots sinking into the soft, loamy soil, and the smell of wet earth filled his senses.

At last, he reached for the crystal ball. Its surface was cool and slick, shimmering faintly as he peered into it. An image bloomed within, hazy but unmistakable—a dark obsidian castle at the edge of the cursed forest, where shadows met a line of misty green. Beyond it, a small village promised supplies, maybe even a bed. His stomach growled in agreement, pushing him forward.

He walked for what felt like days, guided by the crystal’s faint glow. At last, the clouds began to thin, revealing patches of starlit sky, and a surge of hope ignited within him. As the forest finally receded, he saw it—a magnificent castle, dark and imposing, silhouetted against the night sky. But upon closer inspection, it was abandoned, empty as a tomb. Inside, the walls stood bare, the floors scuffed and dull. It was as if the place had been hollowed out, leaving only its cold stone shell.