Page 2 of Cursed Evermore

Every thirty days, all new memories slipped away like water through my fingers and I went back to that moment I lost my father. Then I’d start all over again, my memories wiped clean.

Each reset was like dying and being reborn, losing myself repeatedly with no chance to grieve, to heal, to move forward. While life and time had passed by for others, I was held captive by my mind.

Sometimes, in those moments just before forgetting, I could almost feel the hum of the dark energy that took my father from me.

Those moments were torture, but they were the only times I felt connected to him. As if our shared devastation bound us together across whatever void separated us.

I was twenty now. I couldn’t imagine living like this for another five years.

“Find your father, break the curse.”Grandmother's words rang through my mind like a death knell. As a high mage from the Ravenwood Realm, she knew exactly what bound me.

Blood.

Blood tethered me to my father. Had it not been blood, my grandmother would have been the first person out here to greet the moon. But even with all her power she couldn’t help.

A mage of her level wielding blood magic under the Phantom Moon would rip the mortal realm apart and tear holes between worlds that could never be mended.

My untrained magic made this quest uncertain but at least it wouldn’t shatter reality.

Everything I knew about magic came from secret hours with Grandmother's grimoire and the few protective spells she'd taught me to keep me safe.

Gods, if Grandmother knew I was out here defying her explicit warning, she’d flay me alive. She’d warned me repeatedly that amateur practitioners attempting blood magic were like children playing with wildfire. Without proper training, I had no way of knowing what power I might inadvertently unleash tonight. But Grandmother knew me better than anyone. She knew I'd never stand idle when there was even a sliver of hope. I'd be damned to all six hells if I didn't try to fix this mess.

Besides, I was running out of time. There were twenty-eight days until my next memory reset, and then my practicallyforcedmarriage to Thayden would seal my fate.

Once we got married and I crossed the border into Zyvaris, where magic was not just forbidden but actively hunted on a daily basis, any chance of breaking this memory loop curse would vanish forever.

Thayden’s last warning had been clear:no magic, no exceptions.

Pushing aside my fears, I willed myself forward, walking faster with courage I didn’t quite feel. More shadows greeted me like old friends when I reached the thickest part of the forest. Here the branches and vines stretched and twisted into menacing archways that looked like rotting bones.

The musty scent of decaying leaves filled my nose, reminding me of the dying and the dead. No one would hear me scream if anything happened to me this far out.

I doubted anyone would find me either. I’d vanish like my father, leaving my family broken again.

At the thought of them, guilt pulled at my gut, heavier than boulders laden with lead. Earlier I’d lied to my mother, claiming I was sick. I told her I wanted to get to bed early and rest so I could be well for Thayden’s visit at the end of the week. Ourengagement celebration was set for the day he arrived, so my mother was keen for me to look and feel my best.

She believed my lie without question. Grandmother, not so much, but she didn’t question me. Apart from my cousin Emabelle, only Grandmother knew I loathed the prospect of this upcoming wedding.

If I were successful tonight, I’d have my father back and there’d be no need for a wedding to secure our lands.

A twig snapped in the distance and I froze. The forest held its breath with me as I searched through the darkness and the host of trees surrounding me.

I waited for a few moments, until the silence settled again.

Maybe it was just a squirrel. Or a hare. Maybe the poor creature sensed the growing power in the air.

Breathe, Elariya. Focus. It’s just some animal. Breathe.

“Blessed Mother, give me strength,” I rasped, beseeching the ancient mage god. I had an athame for the spell, but I wouldn’t hesitate to use it on someone,orsomething,if they attacked me.

I drew in one unsteady breath, then another and scanned the parameters again. There was nothing there. Whatever had made the sound was gone.

Forcing myself to believe that, and that I didn’t have a witch hunter tracking me, I placed my hand on my galloping heart and proceeded down the path.

I focused on the spell, going over the words one by one in my mind while I dared to hope for the best.

Moments later, I reached the clearing where Father disappeared. A flock of crows flew out of the trees. Against the sky they looked like ink bleeding into parchment.