Oh, Jimar had heard plenty of stories. The descendants of Tyrus and Feldr were “cursed” by some unmentionable maiden. Feldr’s line had problems with losing their magic, or as a within-the-past-couple-of-generations development, getting tied into the Saint’s Curse. Sounded “cursed” enough, right? Well, then came the part about Tyrus’s line… and at that point, Jimar was willing to believe that they just made the whole story up to feel special.

He couldn’t believe that anyone else would base a decision off of what seemed to be such a stupid idea.

Master Tyrus, for some inexplicable reason, had first cut ties with whatever descendant of Feldr he’d been writing to. Then, a few days later, he made an announcement that soon spread throughout all his servants.

He decided to send his two children away, to live with his parents somewhere in the mountains. He spoke of doing what was best for the two of them… but Jimar saw through it. The only person Master Tyrus had ever cared about was himself.

It was hardly a day after that he made another announcement to all of them, too.

“I understand that some of you have doubts about my recent decisions,” Master Tyrus said, talking over the whispering collection of his servants. “I assure you, though, that I know what I’m doing. This is for the best, for all of us. We’ll see that for ourselves in a little while. But it has come to my attention that not everyone will accept that as a viable reason. I am not changing my mind, and I know neither will you, so I have come up with a compromise.

“If you believe my actions were so unreasonable that you no longer wish to serve under me, then I grant you permission to leave. Anyone who doesn’t agree with what I’ve decided will have their debts forgiven. Just come to me, I’ll assure that your debts are paid, and you can leave to go wherever you’d like.”

…

“You’re going to leave, aren’t you?” It was slow, nearly hopeless, and made him turn to see the speaker almost reluctantly. Tandi wasn’t looking up at him. She probably couldn’t, as the face of a friend had been turned into that of a traitor.

“I don’t see anything worth staying for,” Jimar replied honestly. “I never had any debts to begin with. I already talked with Master Tyrus, he’ll give me some money that I can use to travel with instead. I’m not going to stay with someone who lets superstitions control him.”

“He… had me with him when he made the decision. It didn’t come easily. He didn’t want to make the sacrifice…”

“If he sees this as a ‘necessary sacrifice,’ then that only makes things worse. He’s giving up things for a theory that he can’t prove. There’s no taking this back, and no telling what he’s going to decide next. What happens if he decides it’s better to end Tyrus’s line altogether, or Feldr’s? Where are you going to draw the line between accepting and denying his fantasies?”

“It isn’t—”

“Then what is it? No one’s forcing you to stay either—just draw the line here and now.”

“It isn’t that simple and you must realize that. Master Tyrus relies on me, I cannot just abandon him. My family still needs what I earn here…”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He sighed. “You’re making excuses. You know just as well as I do that Master Tyrus could find another way to make it work. Most of your siblings have better jobs now, some even have families, and I doubt your contribution means as much as it used to. Are you really going to say something like that and think I’m going to take it as a good enough reason?”

She was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry, but I… believe this is where our paths are meant to split apart. It seems that I can’t leave, and you won’t stay.”

Why did he hesitate so much to hear her say it? Perhaps because he expected he’d be able to get through to her… but now he saw that she was nearly as bound by fear as Master Tyrus was.

Jimar was able to say one last thing before Tandi started to walk away: “I’m going to finally start traveling, see what the rest of Qizar has to offer. But if you ever change your mind, I plan on making my base of operations at the first village I showed you. Even if I’m not there, you can rest assured that I’ll come the moment I hear that you visited.”

…

She never did come.

He wondered if he was really surprised. His parents would mention her, occasionally, in their letters; it seemed that she was the one that brought them to be delivered, but she never attached so much of a note. Jimar occasionally considered prompting a response from her, or perhaps even visiting Lord Tyrus’s estate. But that would just put himself in that situation again, a kind of situation he swore that he wasn’t ever going to get close to.

He already had to take care of some box Lord Tyrus had given him before he left. The entirety of Jimar’s departure seemed to mean nothing more than a means of keeping the “truth” of the “curse” from being shared.

It was completely by accident that he stumbled upon the town Lord Tyrus’s children had been sent to.

Jimar had stopped at the town’s bakery—he only intended to get something to eat, then keep traveling—and was passed by two familiar-looking kids. They didn’t notice him at all, and he chose not to draw attention to himself, at least not to them.

“Could I get one of those rolls?” he asked first, setting the coins down on the counter.

The young woman behind it froze, frantically looked around her, first opening her mouth to say something before vigorously nodding. Even through all his later visits, he only ever knew her as Ms. Siavax—she’d never properly introduced herself, and he could never catch the name her siblings used. He eventually assumed that she wanted to only be known by her family name.

When she came back, she didn’t look up at him, though not because of something bad. “It’ll be ready soon, sir.”

He didn’t spare much time in asking his second question: “Do you know who those kids were?”

“Demery and Koyana,” she answered after a long pause. “Their… grandparents send them out here a lot…”

…

Don’t bring yourself back into that mess.

That’s what he kept trying to tell himself. Nothing good would come from doing anything related to Lord Tyrus. He’d left that place for a reason; even interacting with a portion of it would ruin the purpose of that decision.

Yet, from time to time, he found himself wandering up to the mountains. He visited that town, watched in the shadows as those siblings went about their day, gained information about their lives through Ms. Siavax. A few times he thought of coming up to them and telling them about who they were. But he always kept it to himself—they were unlikely to believe a stranger.

Then came the day when he’d returned from his travels, settling down in the room a kind neighbor would rent to him whenever he came back. A letter from his parents sat unread on the dresser. The box Lord Tyrus had given him was directly in front of him, glaring at him, perhaps taunting him.

He looked at it and, for some reason, grew an amused grin.

“Well, Lord Tyrus, there’s one thing you can’t escape from. Your lies will catch up to you eventually… and I have a feeling it’s going to be soon.”