The Curse Heir

r, teacher, warrior. He was the kind of man people respected without question. His presence alone demanded silence, and his words carried weight even when spoken softly. He never had ri

if frozen mid-work. But it was the stains on the ground near the barn the dark patches the earth hadn't yet swallowed, that tore into me. My knees hit the soil. My fists dug into the dirt. And for the first time since I was a boy, I wept. That night, the elders came to speak. Their faces were lined with sorrow, but beneath it, I caught glimpses of unease. They called my father "disciplined." "Respected." "A man of honor." But none of them dared explain why he had been killed. It didn't add up. My father wasn't wealthy. He wasn't involved in politics. Why send armed men to kill him? Unless... Unless he wasn't the man I thought he was. The Relic On the third night, I entered the barn where my father once kept his tools. Dust clung to every corner, yet something pulsed beneath the silence. My instincts as a soldier screamed at me: I was not alone. I pulled aside a stack of wooden crates. Beneath them, buried in the earth, was a box,old, reinforced with strange markings I had never seen before. The moment I touched it, the air grew heavy. My chest tightened as if invisible hands pressed against my lungs. When I forced the lid open, I found it. A shard of black stone, veins of crimson light snaking across its surface, pulsing like a living heart. And the instant my skin brushed it- Voices. Whispers. Thousands of them, crashing into my skull. My vision blurred, my blood boiled, and then. "So... you are the son." A voice, deep and ancient, echoed through me. My body trembled, every nerve set on fire. "Your father tried to seal me. But his time is done. And now... you will carry me." The shard seared into my hand. Pain unlike anything I had ever known consumed me. I screamed, clawing at my skin, but the stone melted into my flesh, leaving behind only a glowing mark-an ancient sigil burning on my palm. When I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, I realized the truth. My father hadn't been killed at random. He had been the Guardian of this relic. And I-his son-had just become i