Sweat beaded on her forehead, her light blonde hair sticking to her pale skin. Kali squeezed her eyes shut, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed onto the brittle green grass. Why now? Why here? Belatedly, she heard the panicked cries as members of her House scrambled away to safety. She couldn’t blame them for being afraid. “Nng…” she groaned, fingers digging into the dry earth. Black dots danced across her vision, colors blurring together meaninglessly. The dark magic inside of her throbbed, demanding to be unleashed. But she couldn’t even if it meant she would be suffering for a while. She tasted blood—she must have bit down on her tongue—but it did little to distract her from the white-hot agony coursing through her body. “Please,” Kali whimpered, her breaths labored, “make it stop.” She didn’t even know who she was hoping to hear her pleas. Certainly not to the revered Moon Sisters goddesses: they were the ones who bestowed the curse in the first place. Her vision went black. She wasn’t sure how long she was unconscious, but when she regained her senses, the pain was gone. For a few minutes, she stayed on the ground as she collected her breath, staring up at the sunless sky as the world shifted back into focus. Though she still felt shaky, Kali felt stronger than she did before. The realization struck her like a lightning bolt. She pushed herself up on shaking arms, her head spinning from the sudden movement. No, no, no. Her heart sank as she scanned her surroundings. All the crops her House had grown the past seasons drooped lifelessly. Not even a bothersome weed lived. She was finally shaken out of her stupor at the sound of approaching footsteps. Kali glanced up, then quickly averting her eyes down respectfully. “E-elder Miki!” she stammered. “Please, forgive me! I ain’t mean to, I swear!” It was taking all her self-control to not shriek. Elder Miki didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she surveyed the scene with a critical eye—despite the fact she was half-blinded—thin lips pressed together disapprovingly. “You ain’t ever mean to, don’t you, girl?” she finally said. It sounded more like a statement than a question, so Kali stayed silent, trembling like a newborn fawn at the Elder’s feet. The older woman tsked at the silence. “Tell me, girl, what use are you? You ain’t know how to bargain even if your life depends on it, you can’t farm without killing everything, and you can’t even look after little brats! You are just a damn burden to our House.” With each venomous word, Elder Miki jabbed an angry finger towards Kali. “I shoulda listen to your pa and kick you out all these spans ago. Well? Speak up, girl.” “I…” Kali trailed off uncertainty, at a loss for words. Though Elder Miki was often brash, she rarely lost her temper before. “I ain’t…” she tried again before breaking off again. She squirmed uncomfortably, feeling the pressure of the Elder’s steely gray eyes upon her. “I- I gonna work hard and make up for it!” Elder Miki sighed. When she spoke again, the anger in the voice vanished. “You mean well, girl, but there’s ain’t nothing you can do. Hard work ain’t gonna make the soil fertile again. Hard work ain’t gonna make the crops grow faster or make the weather warm again.” Another deep sigh. “The Sisters know we ain’t got ‘nough coins saved no Houses worth their salt gonna lend us anything again.” Though the Elder didn’t say it out loud, Kali knew she was blaming her. It was far from the first time her magic drained the span’s worth of harvest. And unfortunately, it would unlikely be her last. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t like she asked to be cursed with the deadly magic. Her lower lip quivered as she tried to hold back a rush of tears. “There gotta be something we can do,” she begged. She dared to look up, her watery blue eyes staring pleadingly at the other woman. “I’ll do anything!” Elder Miki studied Kali’s tear-stained face closely, frowning. After much deliberation, she grunted in affirmation. “There might be one thing I can try,” she finally said. “But you ain’t gonna like it, girl.” Kali shook her head vigorously. “That’s okay!” she exclaimed. “I owe it to you and the House, Elder. I gonna do exactly what I gotta to.” She paused, then went on hesitantly. “But what exactly is it?” “Nothing set in stone yet.” For some reason, the Elder refused to meet her eyes. I’m gonna have to contact a few people and pull some strings. It might take a while. Until then, just sit tight.” Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode away, leaving Kali still kneeling on the blackened grass. — It took a couple of sunrises for Kali to learn what the “something” was. At first, she didn’t understand what was going on. She couldn’t help but gawk as two people on horseback stopped by their farm. Though they appeared a little disheveled from their travels, everything about them seemed to scream privileged. Even their clothes, in a similar style as Kali, were clearly well-made. Lost in her thought, Kali stumbled when someone pushed her forward. Before she could protest, Elder Miki was talking. “This is the girl I’m talking about. The one you want. Now, where are the coins?” “All in due time, Elder,” the auburn-haired solider answered, not the least bit fazed by Elder Miki’s glare. She tilted her head curiously, looking at Kali from head to toe. “That poor thing doesn’t look much like a killer to me. But the most beautiful roses have the sharpest thorns, hmm?” “W-what is going on?” Kali stammered, looking between the soldiers and Elder Miki frantically. Just then, she noticed the seal on the newcomer’s outfit: the Royal Crown of Selia. “Elder, what’s going on?” Elder Miki sighed, looking even older than she did before. “This is what I had to do. You’re a curse, Kali, and you would kill us all in time. This is the price I paid for peace of mind.”