And with this, the last of the comissioned chapters of A Curse Upon Thee are done for this period.
A Grade One.
God-knows-how-many-hours later, it was still on his mind and his lips both; the fact of it refusing to fade. I exorcised a Grade One.
He shook his head slow, a smile still on his face as he sat in the clearing surrounded by the smell of charred wood, and the bitter stink of the medicinal paste Mulan had been kind enough to slather all over his chest.
Finn let his head thump back against the rough bark of an oak, doing his best not to strain the thick layer of yellowed bandages wrapped tightly around his… well, his everything. Every time he did a bit too much, the burns screaming across his skin pulled together and did their part to remind him that his muscles felt like shredded paper. And somehow, my hair looks better than it's ever been.
That was a weird silver lining that he didn’t understand; all the knots and tangles and bits of mud in his hair had somehow just undone themselves as he slept, leaving him awake and ready to scream but looking fresh from the salon. Insane.
But beneath the pain, a deeply satisfied hum vibrated through his chest.
A Grade One.
He had gone toe-to-toe with a Grade One Cursed Spirit and buried it.
The fact that absolutely no one in this medieval fever dream understood how insane that was barely even bothered him. He knew.
Bark exploded out across the clearing from him, Finn blinking blue eyes over as fifteen feet of clearing was covered in a blink; a shower of splinters left behind. This woman…
"Yeah, alright, Skywalker." Finn gave her the whistle of encouragement she needed, grinning up at her from where he sat. "Pace yourself. Smokey Bear’s gonna have a stroke if you keep clear-cutting the forest."
A few yards away in the center of the clearing, Emma Swan lowered the glowing edge of her broadsword, a short breath leaving her as she twirled the weapon in her hand like she was born to handle it. “Not a lightsaber, Finn.”“Tell that to big George before the lawsuit.”Green eyes rolled over his way as she looked at him, back turned to the deep gouges she had just carved into the trunk of a thick oak. "It’s a sword. It just... projects. And it keeps the things trying to kill us reasonably far away."
She flicked her wrist again as she spun on her heel, the blade humming with the motion. In the same breath, a crescent arc of white whipped from the steel. It sailed clean acloss the clearing and tore into the same scarred tree, another thick line of bark removed as splinters went flying free.
She really wasn’t lying about the lasers on that thing. Finn raised his eyebrows again as Emma kept showing off. And that wasn’t all the magic sword could do even. While he couldn’t really say what it boosted regarding skill, he had watched the blonde outmuscle Mulan in a spar this morning so it was definitely making her a bit stronger than normal too. Did I call up Excalibur or something?Finn blinked. Shit, I hope I didn’t give away Excalibur.
A second later, he shook his head. Wait, I don’t give a shit about England. Leaving Emma to deal with whatever crown rights came with her new cutter, Finn just sighed out loud. “Enjoy the blade, blondie.”
"I do now know what we would have done without you, Sir Finn."
His eyes trailed to the right as the princess among them stepped out from the shade of the canopy. “You suffered terribly in the dark.” Aurora smiled down at him, hands interlaced in front of her as she dropped into her third curtsy of the day since she woke up — all of them aimed at him. "We are... deeply in your debt. I am in your debt."
"Don't worry about it, princess." Finn sighed out again. "Part of the service. Just make the check out to Room 108 at Granny’s Bed & Breakfast and we’ll be good."
Round eyes blinked at him. “...check?”“...don’t worry about that either.” He clicked his tongue. It was a given that sorcerers were usually paid for putting their life on the line but seeing as this place didn’t exactly have direct deposit… Eh, I’ll make sure to ask her for some gold or something, I guess.
To Emma’s right, across the clearing, Mary Margaret stepped up with a beautifully carved longbow in hand — the same one Finn had randomly pulled from whatever cursed armory his Innate Domain seemed to be bundled with. It was a large weapon, elegantly made; all dark wood and silver moon-bright filigree that stood out even in dim light.
One hand raised it up as Snow drew the bowstring. The woman didn’t bother to reach for the quiver on her back and — after a moment — it was obvious why. One of the arrows resting patiently in the quiver vanished in a gentle pulse of silver light, simply to appear on the string ready to be fired.
With a smile on her face, Mary Margaret let it fly.
Thwip.
That same arrow shot almost fast enough for him to lose track of it, burying itself dead center in the trunk of another oak.“How’s it feel, MM?”
The short-haired archer lowered the bow, smile still bright on her face as she turned to face everyone watching. “It just restocks.” She answered Finn’s question with an almost-girlish giggle. “As long as I pull, another arrow is there waiting. And the draw weight… it’s like pulling air almost.”
Glad someone can make use of it. It only made sense for it to go to the queen among them anyway, seeing as the bow was her weapon of choice. Finn’s blue eyes flicked up to the endless quiver, the young man tilting his chin. “What about the fancy ones? With the weird feathers?”Mary Margaret glanced over her shoulder, smile fading just a bit. “There are ten of those and they seem to possess a strong magic of their own but…”She shook her head. “When I touch them, I get the odd feeling that they might not replenish quite the same. I don’t wish to waste them on the trees. If I have the chance, I’d rather save them for…”Finn raised an eyebrow. “Cora?”Snow nodded back at him. “Cora.”
"Smart.” Mulan’s clipped voice announced itself before any other part of her made a noise, an accomplishment Finn barely understood given she walked around in full armor. A waterskin in her hand, she made her way over to Finn, dark gaze lingering on his bandages. "You should not move as much. The burns will take longer to heal.”Finn fought the urge to groan, not wanting to risk straining the good feeling Mulan had suddenly developed towards him since last night. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll try.”
"You must drink as well." The waterskin was held out to him, Mulan’s expression making it clear it was more a demand than an offer.
Finn took it from her carefully, offering her a smile back. "Thank you, Mulan.”“...your thanks are not necessary, sorcerer.” Arms folded over her chest, the warrior turned to face the still-practicing Emma. “I’m simply doing what is right.”
The smile on his face widened into a grin. “Yeah, and I’m thanking you for it.”
The woman grunted at his words, arms crossed tighter.
The grin on his face almost hurt as he watched her fight any sort of friendliness, and Finn opened his mouth to shoot off another little tease.
He never got the chance.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, his Cursed Energy flaring a warning he’d never felt quite like this before.
Snap.
A dozen twigs broke all at once, the treeline behind them crunching before it erupted.
“What the h-!” Finn forced himself off the long, body screaming and burns tearing but he didn’t have the luxury of staying seated. All he had to do was hope that his reinforcement could shore up the worst of it. “The hell…”One of them snarled in his face, a backhand enough to send it flying back into the trees it came from. “The hell are these things?”
They weren’t ogres, that was certain.
Too small to be anything like the man-eating monsters Finn had torn through his first week in the Forest, their skin was a bruised sickly purple instead of mottled green, eyes sunken deep into their heads. Regardless of what exactly they were, the small army of men and women charged their way; motions uncoordinated but quick all the same.
"Zombies?!" Emma’s sword immediately came up, the woman already swinging as one rushed her way. "Are you kidding me?"
White light sheared outward, cutting force enough to split the thing in two across the chest; its upper half flying back before it crashed to the ground unmoving.
Mulan pivoted behind her as another of the creatures lunged for Emma’s blind spot, the thing barely crossing another foot before a curved blade had its head roll to the ground.
Mary Margaret fell back, hands a blur with each quick release and draw. Three arrows materialized and buried themselves into the eyes and throats of three of the charging monsters as quick as a blink; the creatures dropping the ground — groaning but unmoving.“Sir Finn!”
Finn’s cursed energy sputtered around his right fist, more sluggish than it had ever been but enough for what he needed now as it cratered the face of another one of the roaming undead before it could touch a screaming Aurora.
Another zombie swung out with a wild hook and Finn’s arm snapped up even as he grit his teeth, prepared for burned flesh to suffer.
The rotting fist hit his forearm.
And Finn blinked. "Are…are you kidding me?
He might as well have gotten punched by a baby. What the hell?
Red hair whipping across his face, Finn spun as his Cursed Technique flared to life, a burning fist roaring as he drove it square into the attacking monster’s chest.
The cursed fire flared but the zombie didn’t go flying.
Instead, the moment cursed heat touched its skin, the creature in front of him simply fell apart to nothing, rotting flesh and bones disintegrating into a thick cloud of violet smoke.
Finn blinked again, simply staring as he voiced his thoughts. “What the actual hell?”
Around the clearing, the same exact thing was repeating itself as Emma sheared through two more. Mulan hacked through a torso and Mary Margaret pinned one to a tree. Yet, each and everyone of the creatures vanished into the exact same purple haze as the rest.
Leaving no bodies, no blood, and no gore.
Just smoke.
Soon enough, they were all gone.
Finn leaned heavily on his knees, coughing through half-burned lungs. "Okay.” Finn wheezed, a wad of spit hawked into the dirt. "What the hell were those? Because they hit like wet paper."
"I don't know.” Emma lowered her glowing sword, green eyes still scanning the trees as she kept her shoulders tight. “But they wanted us dead."
Mulan wiped her blade clean, though there was no blood on it, before slamming it back into her scabbard. "They were constructs. Borne of illusion magic, likely from Cora.” Finn nodded at that. Makes sense.Mulan wasn’t done, though. “We are wasting time. If Cora is sending familiars, she knows where we are. We need to get those ashes from her and use the compass."
"Right," Emma nodded back at Mulan, free hand reaching into the inner pocket of her red leather jacket. "Let's get out of here before she sends something bigger. I’ve got the c—"
She stopped, mouth open as her hand froze inside her pocket. She patted at the leather, then at the other pocket, before wide eyes snapped up to stare at everyone else. "No." The word came in a breath as she spun around, Emma’s head snapping from side to side. "No, no, no. I had it. I just had it."
"Emma?" Mary Margaret stepped forward. "What is it?"
"The compass…" Emma breathed out again, words half a whisper. "It’s gone."
Finn frowned. Maybe she just dropped it during the fight. It’s gotta be around here s-
Then he felt it.
A spike of energy, dark and unfamiliar inside their own camp. The same one he’d just felt before those things lunged out at them. Right behind the log he had just been sitting against. Right where they had laid down the unconscious girl he had been carrying for over two days.
Finn didn't think as he vaulted over the log, tearing pain in his body forgotten as he tackled the empty space on the bedroll.
Except the air wasn't empty.
His burned hands grabbed at something solid and held tight. Violet smoke swirled outward in a small fog, nearly blinding him but it didn’t shake his grip an inch as Finn crashed hard into the dirt, rolling with the momentum.
By the time he came to a stop, the smoke and dust had finally cleared.
Held between arms that could throw a man like a ragdoll was a girl with striking violet hair and piercing green eyes flecked with gold. Cleaner than any of them, the girl was dressed in sleek purple leather that looked absolutely nothing like the peasant rags Finn was used to seeing on her.
But it was what she had in her right hand that had his attention. The compass!
Before any of them could speak, the world chose that moment to hiccup as it all froze for the span of a heartbeat. Directly above them, suspended above their heads, bold words in jagged lettering stood in a distinct dark purple shading, edges of the text burning with a hissing green flame.
MAL IGNA AÏDOENOUSThe Violet Shade
Finn glared down at her, one arm around her neck and the other around her chest as he squeezed tight enough to hurt.. "Who the hell are you?"
The girl just smiled, amusement in her eyes as she planted a quick kiss right on his scarred cheek. “Hi there, cutie.”
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
A careful hand wiped down the glass display, soft gray cloth moving in repetitive circular motions that brought her down to earth. Not that it was all that necessary in the quiet dusty warmth of the pawnshop, but Belle liked the ritual anyway. It was grounding amid all the magic and changes in town as of late, and her love’s shop was as much a sanctuary as the library; the air smelling of old paper, tarnished silver, and polishing wax.
A few feet away, Rumple — Mr. Gold…
Belle shook her head carefully as she corrected herself, the names blurring in the tender space of her heart. Her love was leaning over a heavy leather ledger, his fountain pen scratching softly as he noted down business dealings he had yet to share with her.
Belle French allowed herself a small breath of contentment, shoulders dropping as she smiled at the man. The asylum ward had stripped away many things in the decades she could barely remember, but she was slowly remembering how to simply exist in a quiet room.
The brass above the door chose that moment to chime.
Belle looked up, hands stilling on the glass as an uncomfortably familiar young man stepped into the shop. Chad?
“Hello.” He stood there in a dark blue blazer, the coat worn over a clean white shirt, a bright smile on his face as he spotted her. That same smile shifted to the side, just to brighten even further as he took in the slender figure of Rumple. “Belle, right?”
Belle’s breath hitched slightly, cloth falling from her fingers. “Y-yes. Hello, Chad.”
Gold paused his scribbling to cap his pen, the man patient as ever as he looked up. “Can I help you… young man?”
“You’re…. Uh, what was it, again?” The teenager tucked his hands into the front pockets of his blazer. "Mr. Silvers, right?"
"Not exactly the name I was... blessed with.” Gold offered a low breath that had Belle still, the familiar tinge of half-mirth and half-threat as much warning as it was anything else. “But close enough for business."
"I've heard a lot about you.” Chad’s smile didn't waver even as that brightness bled from his eyes. “A lot.”
"Only good things, I hope." The polite mask on her love’s face was still firmly in place, but Belle saw the tensing of his fingers around his cane clear as day. “Bad for business, otherwise.”
Both men were still smiling at each other, their words kind and almost gentle, yet Belle’s stomach twisted at the raw tension in the room. She knew what it was to be kind and gentle as well, the peace that came with it a reasonable thing. Yet, the utter lack of reasonableness in this exchange — civility aside — pressed against her chest like a physical weight.
"Well…” Chad’s tone dropped a bit, sounding almost like a boy politely correcting a teacher. "A few birdies let me know my cousin used to work for you."
Gold’s head tilted as he leaned forward on his cane, the words drying on his tongue. "Ah. Young Mr. McHale. Of course. Yes, he was a... great help to me."
"And did that help," Chad nodded with his words as his tone lost its warmth, chilling to match his eyes, "happen to involve being used in your sick little ritual?"
Belle’s hand flew to her chest. "Please…" Her whisper came soft, but she knew both of them heard it all the same. "No, let's not. Let’s… let’s not…"
“Well…” Gold didn't look her way, those eyes frigid as they faced forward. "That came... after his period of employment. But unfortunately... yes."
The nineteen-year-old stared at him. "Uh-huh."
A right hand rose from his jacket, Belle’s heart chilling to ice as the black of a handgun was leveled directly at Gold’s chest.
The man on the other end didn't flinch, even as he raised one empty hand. "Young man, I must tell you that you are going to regret thi—"
Chad pulled the trigger.
Belle screamed.
– o – o – o – o – o – o – o –
Hand-Me-Weapons Guy — 50 NP
Share the wealth of your weapons a second time.
Divine Nepo Baby – 100 NP
Meet your first demigod.
Graveyard Sweetheart – 200 NP
Get a kiss from the daughter of Hades.
A *th Sense (100) [Invincible] {Divination} Sometimes the magic that imbues you reacts. It jolts and seems to highlight items in your vision or alter the way that you hear things. Over time you have learned that these reactions indicate the presence of other magic around you. These bursts of information and awareness appear in the way that is most convenient to the user but processed through the senses they already have. When you are looking at a magic pendant, you could see the way the magic moves, or feel the tingle as a ghost sneaks up on you, and the wards laid on a building might show up in all their glory with a buzzing sound. Whichever way it manifests, you are able to sense magic through your normal senses and never mistake the sensation of magic for anything but.
A Farther Horizon (200) [Godbound] {Lore} Whether you were once a baker or a beggar, the consequences of a Word of Creation burning in your veins will take you far beyond the life you once knew. With this you can at least be assured you’ll be a natural learner for all kinds of new experiences, and always be able to keep an open mind for new vistas and ways of being. Within days of arriving in a new culture you can learn the customs, figure out how to fit in and sniff out who’s in charge. This lends itself well to picking up new skills too. You may not be the greatest swordsman or painter ever to live, but you’ll find yourself picking up the trade a lot quicker than most.
Trainer License (FREE) [Detective Pikachu] {Illusion} Your very own Pokémon Trainer's license. This comes in a digital format that will be available on any digital assistant, phone, tablet, or similar device you own, as well as a dual-sided credit card-sized card with an embedded NFT chip that contains all supplementary information needed for identification and things like Pokémon registration. This item and its digital edition will always be accepted as valid ID and will be able to display any of your alt-forms' legal information, and can assimilate other things into itself, like credit cards, passports, and other pieces of identification or to form an all-in-one ID, credit card, and such. This will be accepted without comment or issue for all forms of use it has assimilated.
Grimoire Points: 500