The book sat next to Corabelle, as she strained her next to read it, flipping through pages for anything hopefully useful. Her vision swam.

  She was getting tired. It’d been nearly a week of using a Runebind perpetually. While Lower power it was still draining her. She wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer.

  She prayed a solution was close.

  The room around her was abuzz with conversation. Mages from practically every discipline sat in mismatched chairs, on bundles of rags, on the floor.

  They scoured books and notes, squeezing past each other to reach new materials, hand-cauldrons sat over tiny self-contained flames, brewing potions and tonics.

  Corabelle’s little cell was far beyond occupancy and had been this way since Ella spread the news of the Curse to the Magic users in camp.

  It quickly became a higher priority than blind hatred. As bad as Demons were, this Curse was considerably worse.

  One of the older Mages, Aldric as she’d heard someone accidentally name him, approached her cot with a rag soaked in steaming red liquid in his gloved hands.

  Corabelle looked at the cloth in his hand as he stayed silent. While she’d tried to be as gentle and welcoming as she could to them, there was still fear.

  No one had been bold enough to an experimental Cursebreak without her permission, though she’d never said no to their suggestions.

  “Is that an Alchemical ritual?” She questioned, noting the depth to the coloring of the stain.

  “Yes, Ma’am,” Aldric spoke in his low polite voice, keeping his head low to avoid her gaze.

  “Please don’t call me ma’am,” She requested, a habit she’d been trying to break them of for days.

  “Sorry ma’am.”

  She sighed, “How long will it take?” She questioned.

  So long as Zaramir was encompassed by a Ritual, they couldn’t try anything else.

  “A full day,” He answered quickly, “Or so I'm told.”

  “Or so you’re told? You’re not an alchemist?”

  He shook his head, “No ma’am. I studied transmutation. I was just sent to deliver this.”

  Corabelle looked over his shoulder, but no one else seemed to pay them any mind, “By who?”

  He tensed slightly, “I was asked not to say.”

  She glanced at the alchemists in the corner for any sign of who sent it, but they were all enraptured in their own experiments.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Unease pricked the back of her neck.

  Surely no one here would be stupid enough to try to kill him, especially in such an obvious manner. Right now he was no threat at all, with no sign of ever becoming one again. Of the two of them it would make more sense to try to kill her.

  So it would make more sense for this to really be altruism. Perhaps they just didn’t want to be known as the one who succeeded in waking a Demon if this worked.

  Whatever the motivation, anything that might break this Curse was welcome.

  “Okay,” She nodded, moving her hand to his arm so he could place the cloth down on his chest.

  “Actually…” He said cautiously. “I was told you’d need to stop the spell you’re using and be out of the Ritual area for it to work.”

  She’d have to stop dulling his pain.

  He looked down at him. His external wounds were more than healed, but this Curse’s full effects were unknown to her.

  Logically speaking he was right. It would make sense to eliminate other variables, but she didn’t like the idea of letting this Curse resume its full destruction.

  Though there was a possibility this could end it for good.

  She released a slow breath as she slid out from beneath his weight. She shifted his body to be more comfortably rested on the cot. Her legs tingled as she stood up, her knees cracking from remaining sedentary for so long. She kept her hand on his arm, leaning over him as she stood.

  “Please be quick with it,” She requested. “Place it as soon as I let go.”

  He nodded quickly, reading the cloth, “I was warned this may not seem pleasant, but it’s not supposed to hurt… much.” he added the final word barely audibly.

  “Rituals aren’t always the most pleasant,” She added more for her own sake than his, “It’s alright.”

  She drew her hand away quickly, before she could lose her nerve. The tension on Her Spark released immediately as her Runebind ceased its activation.

  Aldric flung the cloth down, flinching as it made contact as though he were afraid Zaramir might awaken suddenly. He took a few steps back, watching for a sign that he should flee.

  As the rag settled, Zaramir’s skin steamed as the cloth burned the outer layer of his skin, the outermost layer peeling like a bad sunburn, the cloth nestled its way into his flesh, the healing working its way around it, avoiding only the exact points where fluid drenched solid met skin. The wound was shallow, just enough to allow blood to lightly seep up in minuscule droplets around the scrap before it could heal

  The hint of shimmering blue that was in the amalgam of red slowly vanished, Zaramir’s veins growing starker against his skin as the first stage of the Alchemical ritual was absorbed.

  Nothing happened.

  Of course nothing happened.

  Even for a Ritual, a full day was a long timeline. All that was left to do was wait and see. Wait in uncomfortable, painstaking anticipation.

  Corabelle took a deep breath as she turned to Aldric, “Thank you.”

  He nodded quickly, tensely, words seemingly unable to form on his quivering lips.

  Corabelle turned her gaze to the room. All attention had been drawn to them as a new attempt was made to break the Curse. Uneasy curiosity shadowed every face in the room, each time something new was tried.

  On one hand, being able to break a Curse this mythically strong, strong enough to fully Subdue and elder Faedemon, was not only beneficial to the war effort, but anyone who did so would be heralded as a Master in their respective field. On the other hand, they knew what breaking the Curse would awaken.

  She cleared the tension from her throat before she spoke, “This try was a Ritual. It'll take a good long while to determine its efficacy. You don’t need to wait here if you don’t want to.”

  That was more than enough to clear the room. No one actually wanted to be here when something worked, she knew that.

  Hands frantically grabbed, books, notes, ingredients, and cauldrons as their owners scurried out of the overcrowded room in a near frantic scramble.

  Left in their wake was a mess of papers and a few mass produced copies of common texts along with their vacant chairs and her usual guard detail.

  Corabelle grabbed a nearby stool pulling it to the bedside.

  She took a seat, her hands folded tightly in her lap, fighting the urge to reactivate her Runebind as stop the pain of sizzling flesh as his muscles tightened.

  No. She couldn’t interrupt the process, as much as she wanted to.

  The Ritual had begun; there was no going back now.