I could no longer bear it.
The amount of pain that overwhelmed me was beyond my ability to breathe, to think, to live itself. In that moment, I felt as if my end had already been written, as if everything left of my existence was slipping through my hands along with my tears. I sat on the ground, embracing the body of the one I loved, crying until I lost all sense of time.
I cried and cried… until I thought my tears would never stop. Then, suddenly, I felt a light touch on my shoulder. It wasn't heavy or startling, but rather like a thread of light slipping through the darkness that had swallowed me. My body trembled for a moment, and I raised my head hesitantly.
There… behind the cloud of my tears, I saw a man. He was hiding his features, as if shadows covered his face, leaving me with nothing but his mystery. He extended his hand toward me, a hand marred with bruises, bearing the marks of old battles, yet despite that, it seemed steady and firm, as if it knew what it was doing.
I don't know who he is, or where he came from.
And yet… I found myself reaching out to him, holding his battered hand and allowing him to lift me from the ground. As if, in that moment, I had risen from the depths of my despair, and accepted—if only temporarily—the harsh reality before me.
I heard his whispers slip into my ear, his voice calm yet deep, as if the words came from a familiar place within me:
"Calm down… this is your fate."
I didn't know him, I didn't know his name, nor his story. But strangely, I did what he told me. I responded to his words without resistance, as if I had long been used to hearing such phrases whispered into my ear.
Then he spoke more clearly:
"I will take care of the body. Then I will bury it properly."
I hesitated… I wanted to refuse, to hold onto it and scream that I didn't want anyone to do anything to it without me. But his gaze, the way he spoke, his strange stillness… all of it said that he was someone who wouldn't make a mistake, someone who knew what he was doing.
We exchanged a few seconds of silence, fleeting glances that were heavier than any words. And inside me, something whispered: "Let him… you can trust him."
And from that moment… something began to change. The pain did not disappear, but it became quieter, less savage. I felt a slight comfort slipping into my chest, like someone who had suddenly found a small space to breathe.
...
I made a decision… to search.
To search for a legendary stone capable of calming my curse, perhaps it would be the beginning of a new path, or at least a thread of salvation to hold onto in this darkness.
Yes… the Great Stone… the Stone of Purification.
It was not just an ordinary stone. It shone with a strange mystery, radiating a quiet calm into the soul, as if its silence held all the secrets of the world. The magic of purification… magic that cleanses and strips away black sorcery and dark spirits. All I dreamed of in that moment was to find this stone, to heal myself, to return whole with all my strength, to reclaim what I had lost of energy, life, and spirit.
My journey began in the Tower of Mages, that majestic place that hides within its walls a long history of secrets and ancient magic. At first, I could have told my uncle, the head of one of the grand masters of the tower. But he… was no longer mine. Our relationship had ended some time ago, leaving between us a wall of silence and painful memories. I could not risk it.
So I spoke with his friend, a master of the Tower of Mages, and one of those closest to our family. He was a wise and patient man, and he rarely refused a request no matter how great it was. He welcomed me generously and received me in his room filled with old books and mysterious symbols. Then he opened the stone chamber for me… a dimly lit room where long rows of stones shimmered like small stars.
I reached out carefully, smiling to myself, trusting my intuition. There was a covered stone, its full shape unclear, yet it radiated a strange warmth, as if something within it knew me before I saw it. I felt peace as I held it, I felt as though something had begun to return to me… a feeling far from fear, close to hope.
One night passed, and another night of deep thought, as I observed the stone and sensed its power. And on the next day, I made my decision. I could no longer endure it, the waiting, the stagnation in a place that neither healed me nor freed me.
I decided to go to my second homeland… Japan.
The homeland of my grandmother, the woman who lived a dignified life full of values, who always told me about Japan's culture, about the kindness of its people, about their ancient traditions, about their festivals that resembled legends. In her voice, in her stories, there was a sense of peace, a sense of belonging that I had never found here.
I bid farewell to my father, and his farewell was filled with heavy silence. He gently placed his hand on my forehead, in respect and appreciation, and in that moment I felt a deep sorrow squeezing his heart. He did not mean to be strict or sad, but he could not stop me from leaving. His tears were hidden, and his apology was silent… but sincere.
Then came my grandmother. I knew she would feel guilt, some regret for what had happened, for what had passed. But she stood before me calmly, and I kissed her forehead and hand in respect for her age and status. Her smile was sorrowful, deep, filled with tenderness and regret at once.
And then… the hardest part. My uncle.
I expected him to shout, to stop me, to cast me out of his life as he had before. But no. He received me with quiet silence, without grand words, without anger. He bid me farewell calmly, sincerely, as if a trace of the old love still remained in his heart.
I boarded the ship and departed, my heart filled with conflicting emotions. A feeling of relief, a feeling of longing, a feeling of fear of what was to come. I missed those I had left behind, and longed for what I would find ahead, but something, a deep inner feeling, told me that this was not just the beginning of a journey… but the beginning of the end.
---
Days passed slowly until we arrived in Japan. The sea faded behind us like a thin thread of memories, and the gentle breeze embraced my face lightly, carrying the scent of distant Japan—a mixture of the sea, flowers, and the pure air I had not breathed in years.
On the second day, I began my walk through the old streets of the city, which pulsed with life in a strange yet comforting way. Small markets, vendors calling out in friendly voices, the bright colors of fabrics and flowers decorating the sidewalks… everything seemed as if it was trying to soothe me. And for the first time in a long while, I felt the pain inside me begin to ease, and my heart, once heavy with sorrow, begin to free itself slightly.
The people there recognized me quickly. I was "Osana's granddaughter," and my grandmother was known in every corner of the city, by her name, her generosity, and her status. I felt a sense of pride, as if my grandmother's history and the warmth of her bond with the community had become a shield protecting me from loneliness and longing.
Days passed as I moved between markets and temples, listening to people's stories, speaking with them, and learning from their traditions. I felt as though every step I took there erased a part of the pain in my heart, until I began to laugh, to enjoy, and to feel a rare sense of freedom after years of constraints and struggles.
But, as always, peace did not last long.
One evening, while I was reading some letters from my homeland, a piece of information appeared that I could not ignore. I turned the pages with a trembling hand, and suddenly the blood froze in my veins. "A murder…"? Who was the victim? My friend… Vicky herself, the one who had left, the one whose funeral I could not attend.
The shock was immense, and the first tear slipped from my eye before I could stop it. The news came faster than I expected: Vicky's stepmother was responsible. It was not surprising… I had felt something like that, I had expected some darkness behind her cold smiles.
I was deeply upset and disturbed. I spent days thinking about it, carrying in my heart the pain of loss and lost justice. Every moment reminded me of my loss, and every memory of Vicky came back to hurt me more. But at least, the perpetrator was caught, imprisoned, and justice took its course, which eased, slightly, the weight of the anger squeezing my heart.
And one day, while I was overwhelmed with extreme fatigue and unbearable exhaustion, the symptoms of dark magic began to intensify in my body, despite the fact that the Stone of Purification was with me. I felt chills shaking every cell in my body, as if the entire night had merged with the darkness inside me.
And when I realized the truth… I trembled.
The stone I had taken… was not the Stone of Purification.
It was a black stone… a dark and powerful stone, radiating deadly magic.
I crawled on the ground to push it away from me, panic taking over me, not knowing how to deal with it or control its power. But something from the books I had read in the tower came to save me. There was a way: sealing it tightly, and that might reduce its harmful power.
I spent the entire night watching the stone, sensing its energy, and fearing any wrong movement. I felt as if the stone was watching me, testing my courage and patience. But gradually, the symptoms of the magic began to fade, little by little, and I felt peace returning to my exhausted body.
The next day, I told the guards about it, and they placed the stone in a safe place, tightly sealed and far from anyone's reach. The ship then set off back to my homeland, carrying with me a sense of relief, my body relaxed, and my spirit finally free after all this hardship.
During the journey, I tried to speak again, to search for inner peace, and to regain my ability to express myself. I felt as if my soul had become freer, as if my heart was smiling after a long silence. They were simple moments, but they gave me happiness, a feeling that everything would be alright.
At last, we arrived at my homeland. I felt both longing and reassurance. I remembered my promise to myself: I would try, somehow, to restore what my family had lost, to open the door to reconciliation, no matter how difficult the path would be.
I stepped out of the carriage in front of the palace, my heart overflowing with joy. I wanted to see everyone, to smile, to embrace everything I had left behind. But in that moment, I felt something strange… something I could not yet explain. As if time had changed, and the place was no longer as it was in my memory.
The palace was quiet, more than usual, and the front gate was slightly closed. I felt a sense of unease, but I ignored it, trying to focus on the joy rising in my heart. My steps were quick as I approached the great door, remembering every face I loved, every moment that had passed, every pain I had endured, and every hope now shining before me.
And as I stood just a few meters away from the palace entrance, I felt that something would change everything… and that this return would not be just an ordinary reunion.
---
And when I entered the palace hall, I suddenly felt my heart stop beating. The shock before me was indescribable… the entire ground was covered in blood, and every member of my family lay on the ground, covered in blood, motionless, as if life had been extinguished from their eyes in a single moment.
I trembled violently, as if every bone in my body had lost its balance, and all my limbs began to shake uncontrollably. Everything before me felt like a curse… why? Why did this happen?! I screamed loudly, my voice echoing through the walls, but the echo was nothing but the deadly silence of the palace.
And my body was not trembling from shock alone, but from a deep sense of helplessness and confusion. Even Arian, the little child… his body was among them, lifeless.
I stepped closer slowly, my eyes seeing nothing but the horrific scene, and my tears pouring heavily. I could not control myself, the shock was consuming my mind, the tears flooding my face, and everything felt as if it was collapsing around me.
Suddenly… I felt a strong hand strike my back forcefully, and an angry shout shook my ears:
"You foolish criminal!!! How could you kill your family like this?!"
I turned to find one of our knights, someone I knew well, gripping my neck with terrifying force, anger blazing in his eyes like fire. I could not even think, everything turned into a blur around me. I didn't know what to say or what to do, I felt that every word I might say would be wrong, and every movement would be meaningless. The only thing I managed to say after a long moment, in a broken voice under the weight of shock, was:
"What?!"
Suddenly, a familiar voice came… a calm voice, yet carrying authority and composure:
"Let her go now…"
It was Sina, my cousin, standing in the shadows, her eyes shining with clarity, her voice carrying her usual wisdom. In a single moment, I was freed from the knight's grip. He turned to Sina, wanting to justify himself, wanting to insist on his anger, but her words forced silence upon his lips.
I tried to stand, I tried to move, but my body was unable to respond. Everything felt as if it was collapsing both inside and outside of me at the same time.
Then the harsh voice came again, harsher than ever before:
"I never expected this from you, Karina… how could you destroy your family like this?! You really had a black stone… and you used your sorcery on your family with it?!"
I trembled inside. How could someone be accused in such a way? How could the truth be turned upside down like this? There was no black stone… it was just a mistake, a simple mistake, but it was exploited, twisted, and now all the blame was thrown upon me with such horror!
I stood up slowly, each step harder than the last, trying to find my voice, trying to explain, trying to move… but no words came out. Everything felt impossible, and every second was a challenge just to remain standing.
And finally, before I lost consciousness from the intensity of my inner exhaustion, I felt the world spinning around me, and the darkness drawing closer… a feeling of absolute helplessness, that everything had ended before it even began.
Karina did not know that this…
was only a short rest before the first real loss.