The sun was barely in the sky when Jeremy made his way to the village. He carried his skull mask in one hand, and the Painful Staff of Pain in the other — but without the ethereal blade that made it look like a scythe. Even though he liked the aesthetics of his staff, it was prudent to keep its simpler appearance.

He had sent Rikki back to the village the night before to tell them of his arrival, and how he would break the curse right after dawn. People needed to believe in something — and this time, they believed their village was cursed. Simply telling them there was no curse in the first place or that the curse was broken would not have changed their minds. They would think the duke paid them no mind or that his emissary was incompetent or uncaring.

Of course, it meant spending his third night camping outside. He couldn’t simply walk into the village in the dead of night and expect a warm reception — pitchforks and torches were more likely. In his experience, it usually took three days for townsfolk to rile up themselves to action. Which is why he was limiting his interactions to one single morning.

Camping outside wasn’t so bad. The campfire kept creatures at bay — or perhaps it was the presence of a giant snail. Then again, it could be his ever-present life ward. Animals didn’t seem too keen on approaching him, which is why he had problems finding a mount before finding Shelby.

He reached the crest of one of the many hills surrounding the village. It stood in the valley below him, surrounded by a crude palisade. Several man-made brooks branched out from a distant river. Most were diverted into the fields for irrigation and the rest went to pools that provided usable water to the villagers.

The gates were open but a couple of sentries stood watch. Jeremy reined in his life ward, shrinking it to barely two inches around his body. It required a bit of effort — like consciously clenching a fist. It also felt unnatural and unsafe. He preferred his defenses against jerms to be more far-reaching.

“Good day,” he greeted the guards, careful to maintain a safe distance. With his life ward compressed, a mere touch could prove quite unnerving — perhaps even fatal. “I am the Scourge, a wizard sent by Duke Cedric to rid the town of its curse. Have the preparations been made?”

The two guards scrambled, ushering him in. The two looked more like farmers than guards, judging by their tanned skin and sun-bleached hair.

He was led to the town square, which was more like a circle. Market days were rare in small villages — especially one where almost everyone was a farmer. The space was probably used for gatherings and events, though he couldn’t figure out what kind of events the quaint village could have.

Wood was stacked in a pile on the center of the square, forming a pyre-like structure. Jeremy expected just enough for a small bonfire — like the ones used during celebrations — not this huge monstrosity. It was a waste of good wood, but that was their problem and not his.

He scanned the sparse crowd, finding his young accomplice smiling at the back. Jeremy expected a larger audience. Seeing a wizard deal with a curse didn’t seem to draw much attention — or perhaps the others opted to stay in the safety of their homes just in case things went south.

“Who’s in charge here?” he asked the crowd, waiting to see who they would turn to.

“That would be me,” answered an elderly farmer. “Farmer Sacher at your service.”

Another one of those it seems.

Still, Jeremy smiled at the promptness and decisiveness of the old man. He held himself with both dignity and modesty — something lacking in the nobles of Bountiful.

“I’ve dealt with the witch who cursed the town,” he started. “She swore there would be no curses — and she implores the villagers of this town to stay away from her home for their own safety.”

“Why not just get rid of the witch?” bellowed a voice from the back.

“I didn’t feel the need,” Jeremy answered truthfully. “She was naive and a bit reckless. I showed her the error of her ways — as well as the consequences of continuing in her path of darkness.”

“So there won’t be any more curses?”

“Not from the witch.” he smiled.

Rikki approached him as they planned, carrying a bucket of water. The boy emptied the bucket over the pyre and stood behind him.

“Every household should have a store of water in their homes,” Jeremy spoke in a serious tone, adding gravity to his words. “I need a member of each household to douse the wood with water from their homes, be it a glass or a bucket.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“The curse is in the water?!” a panicky voice cried from the small crowd.

“No, but I need something from each household,” Jeremy explained. “Water would do, but anything is fine as long as it has been kept in the house for at least a day.”

His words spurred the villagers to action. Some of them sped to their houses, but some were kind enough to spread the word to their neighbors.

He wasn’t deceiving them. He truly needed them to bring something to the square — like a sacrifice of sorts. That way, they would feel like they contributed to lifting the curse — and they would be more likely to believe in what would happen next.

It took close to half an hour for everyone in the village to come to the square. Most of them brought water to douse the wood, One villager brought wood that she kept for her stove and another brought a coin that he thought was cursed.

Most of them stayed in the square to see what would happen next, though a few preferred to watch at a distance.

He gave Rikki a nod, signaling the next phase of their operation. The boy approached Sacher, giving him an unlit torch. The farmer turned to Jeremy, unsure of what to do.

“Light the pyre,” Jeremy urged. The villagers needed a spectacle, and the pyre should provide them with one.

The farmer lit the torch and approached the stack of wood. There was doubt in his face, seeing as how wet the pile had become from all the water the villagers doused it with. He hesitated, searching for try tinder but finding none. Unsure what to do, he placed the torch in a space near the bottom of the pile.

“Move away from the wood!” Jeremy commanded, a trace of fear in his voice. He had practiced the line several times during the night — perfecting a tone that mixed both urgency and terror.

Wisps of purple flame erupted from the pyre, startling the villagers. The color of hellfire was common knowledge, and one blossoming in the middle of the village could spell the end of it. There was panic in their faces, but their feet were held in place by the allure of the fire and Jeremy’s seeming unconcern.

Hellfire consumed the pile of wood, creating a pillar of smoke in the air. A figure slowly began to form in the dark depths of the smoke — a serpentine figure with clawed hands, a vague representation of the incorporeal naga that Rikki encountered.

“Th-that’s the creature in my dreams!” stammered Silus. The hunter looked gaunt and exhausted as he pointed to the creature inside the smoke.

Everything was smoke and magic. Jeremy couldn’t handle smoke as well as he did hellfire — but his display was enough to draw the full attention of the villagers.

Jeremy took out a piece of glass shaped like a huge gem. He had Shelby make a few of them the day before, and he cut one of them into the shape of fist-sized ruby.

He moved towards the fire, holding the gem towards it. “By the grace of Duke Cedric and the power of the gods, oh gem of purity — suck the evil!”

The line was the best he could come up with in such short notice — not that he gave it too much effort.

He opened a coin-sized portal to Aventor, home of demon harpies and one of his favorite hells. It was an aerie of evil, situated in the highest peaks of the underworld.

The difference in pressure created a vacuum that began sucking the air around the portal, along with the smoke that rose from the pyre. Jeremy used his control of hellfire to send streams of flame into the portal while maintaining the form of the naga with his magic.

He made it seem like he was struggling — even falling to one knee while keeping his arm holding the piece of glass raised. The portal was closing, the wind created by the vacuum slowly losing its strength.

“Suck the evil!” Rikki shouted. Jeremy could see the revulsion and shame in the boy’s face as he forced the words out of his mouth.

The portal opened slightly at the boy’s words and the wind began to stir faster.

“Suck the evil!” this time, Rikki’s calls were met with a few of the villagers’ own. Soon, everyone was rhythmically chanting Jeremy’s uninspired words.

The creature in the smoke seemed to struggle as the fire started to die down. Jeremy turned away from the crowd, feigning pain and using the distraction to place his skull mask on his face for a brief moment.

Nooooooo!!!

He sent a cry of anguish into the minds of the villagers gathered in the square. A bit of demonic malevolence was unavoidably added, but that was more of a boon than a problem.

The shadowy form appeared to struggle helplessly against the pull of the gem, eventually getting sucked into the portal in front of it. The gem turned black in Jeremy’s hands — a simple trick that any mage could accomplish. He promptly dropped the gem as if it caused him pain, gesturing for the others to stay back.

“Does anyone have a box or chest that could contain the gem?”

A handful of villagers scrambled to their homes. They returned carrying chests of varying makes and sizes.

Jeremy chose the smallest one. He took a piece of cloth from his robes, using it to pick up the gem and placing it on the small box. He hurled the piece of cloth into the pyre — now burning a bright yellow.

“Is it done?” Farmer Sacher asked.

“Not yet,” Jeremy answered. He offered the box to the old villager. “Take this and bury it somewhere nobody would find it. The gem of purity should hold the creature for centuries — but only if it remains sealed inside this box.”

The farmer nodded, taking the box. He grabbed a shovel from a nearby shed before heading to the gates. Rikki followed the old man as planned. It would take ages to dig a proper hole, and the boy could help with his earth magic.

Jeremy was quite pleased with himself. He did well. None of the villagers would know of his genius or the things he went through to stage the events of the day — but it was part of the job.

It was an excellent spectacle — the village would be talking about it for weeks on end. It had good visuals, a bit of drama, crowd participation, and the looming return of a sealed threat.