Chapter 33 You're Hurting Him!

Chapter 33 You're Hurting Him!
🌙 Seraphina 🌙

“You know what this is right? You have two choices.”

The words rolled from his tongue like velvet dipped in poison. The Curse Bearer’s smirk deepened and at the same time the lamp on the table seemed to him against my ear. I couldn't tell if I was the only one hearing it or everyone else was. At this moment, my mind was puzzled and my magic was tripping off drop by drop.

Two choices.

I repeated in my mind with a sign escaping my lip.

Everytime The Curse Bearer appears, he's always proven that whatever we've heard about him as children was true. There's no good news with him. Something within me urged me to hear what he had for me, but I knew better.

His two choices wouldn’t be a guide, instead he's the shadow behind every wrong choice I've made so far.

Still, my curiosity got the better of me clawing its way through my fear. “Two choices?” I asked, my voice lowered than I had intended.

He chuckled softly, a sound that made my blood run chill. The golden light of the lamp flickered across his sharp features, bending them in unnatural ways. “Yes, Princess,” he purred, “two paths, both of which you’ve already begun to walk.”

The color of the lamp shifted at his words and deep gold melted into smoky crimson. The air thickened with fear and I could hear the sound of time running past me.

“The first,” he said, drawing his finger in the air, and the smoke from the lamp followed his gesture, swirling into faint, glowing shapes—a map, then a road, then a vast city built from light. “You can choose to travel through time. Step into this lamp’s gift, and you shall reach the Still City instantly.”

I didn't even ask to hear it before he started blurting it out. However his first sentence still drew my attention, completely. And when he completed it, I sensed the great feeling that he was telling me to make my first wish.

That's what the Wish Fulfilling Lamp does. It fulfills wishes. But I didn't wish for it, would it still count?

The Still City was known for its dangerous records. People vanished…travellers. Still,new records never cease to appear every lunar year of people going there to make sacrifices. Just like how desperate I am to go there also.

The Curse Bearer's grin widened, seeing that he had successfully caught my attention. He continued, “No more hunger, no more exhaustion, no dangers from the road. No more weakness….and certainly, no more dangerous stunt from me” His gaze flicked toward Elias, then back to me. “You can reach your destination without spilling another drop of sweat… or blood.”

The offer vibrated and ringed in my head like bells from temples. It rang loudly and dropped heavily on my chest. My mind swirled with numerous opinions, I weighed the offer,and my instincts told me to agree with no circumstance.

“And the other?” I managed to ask, my throat tight.

The other might just be better than the first.

“The other,” he said, his tone turning colder, “is to continue as you are now. To travel by horse through hunger and storm. To drag your weary body beside your King until one of you falls.”

He leaned forward, the lamp between us gleaming like a heart of molten gold. “You could save yourself the pain, girl. You could save him.”

The silence after his words was unbearable.

I stared at the lamp—at the way the light from within pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat, as if it was waiting for me to speak, to surrender. The air around it shimmered faintly, twisting reality in small, invisible ways.

It was beautiful and terrible all at once.

I felt Elias beside me—his presence became a steady weight. Staring at him brought back the reminder to reason and consider what would be best for us both. The Curse Bearer's words….advice only seemed to create more awareness of the dangers ahead. Who wouldn't want to go for the first option?

I could save time…it then whispered back to me.

At what cost?

What if he thought I wanted the easy way out?

What if he thought… I was weak?

The Curse Bearer laughed—a low, melodic sound that slithered around the room like smoke. “What’s wrong, Princess? Tempted? Or terrified?” His grin split wider. “The brave ones are often the first to fall for mercy when it’s offered in gold.”

I flinched. His words dug deep because they were close to true. I was tempted. The thought of skipping the exhaustion, the danger, the endless ride—it was enough to make my hands tremble.

But this was him. This was The Curse Bearer I've always heard of. This was The Curse Bearer I've witnessed used his words to trigger the worst in you. The Curse Bearer never offered mercy without a price.

“Why?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Why would you offer help?”

His eyes flickered and turned a shade darker, colder. “Because even a curse knows how to balance,” he said quietly. “And even mercy can be a weapon.”

I turned to Elias at last. Hoping he'd get his last sentence the same way it was hitting on me. Even mercy could be weaponized. His face was unreadable at first—stone carved in silence. But then, as our eyes met, I saw something shift in him.

Bitterness.

Not towards the Curse Bearer… but toward me.

It hit me like a slap I hadn’t expected. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, said what his lips did not: Don’t you dare consider it.

I felt my throat tighten. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t—that I would never trust the Curse Bearer again. But I couldn’t find the words. The lamp’s glow kept flickering, painting his features in gold and shadow, and all I could think was how heavy the silence between us suddenly felt.

And in that silence, the lamp’s hum deepened—slow, rhythmic, as though it too was waiting for an answer neither of us was ready to give.

The lamp’s hum dropped heavy again, vibrating through the table, the walls, my bones. It was faint at first, like the low whisper of wind trapped inside a jar. Then it grew louder — louder until the entire room seemed to tremble.

I pressed my palms against the table’s edge, trying to steady myself. The golden glow spilling from the lamp flared in quick, erratic bursts. Its surface rippled like liquid fire, the etchings along its body twisting and shifting, forming words that vanished before my eyes could read them.

Elias’s jaw tightened. His hand clenched against his knee, his knuckles white.

“Enough,” he muttered, voice rough, almost a growl.

But the lamp only pulsed harder, as though feeding on his irritation. The air crackled with invisible energy, hot and metallic, biting at the back of my throat. The sound rose — an unearthly hum, sharp and piercing.

Everyone heard it.

Especially for Elias.

His face twisted in frustration, his eyes darting toward the lamp as he pressed both hands against his ears. His body stiffened, his breath caught between clenched teeth. “It’s— it’s louder—” he ground out, voice raw with pain.

I felt it too — the sharpness, the way it stabbed through sound itself — but for him, it was as if the noise was clawing into his skull. The veins along his temple stood out, and for the first time since I met him, Elias looked… helpless.

The Curse Bearer watched in quiet amusement, head tilted slightly, lips curving into that cold, knowing smirk.

“The great king of Aethelgard,” he said softly, mockery coating every word, “brought to his knees by a whisper of power.”

“Stop it!” I snapped, glaring at him. “You’re hurting him!”