Rhea stood before the king, her hands clasped behind her back,
as if she were trying to hold on to something unseen.
The King (in a calm but weary voice):
"The village hasn't settled since last night."
Rhea:
"Because it isn't used to fear, my lord.
And this fear... it isn't coming from outside."
The king lifted his gaze to her.
The King:
"What do you mean?"
Rhea (after a brief hesitation):
"The sorcerer hasn't left yet.
If he had left, he would have left a clear trace.
And if he stayed... then he is making a mistake now."
A heavy silence fell.
The King:
"Then what do we do?"
Rhea:
"We keep the guards on high alert,
and I return to my usual patrols.
There is something... I don't like about the area near the barn."
The king nodded slowly.
"Do what you think is best."
And at the moment Rhea turned to leave the hall—
The sorcerer stepped out of the barn.
His leaving was not a calculated decision,
but an escape from a feeling he could not explain.
What he had done there...
had not ended the way he expected.
He felt no victory,
no relief.
Only a heavy emptiness in his chest,
as if something had been torn away—
yet left its mark behind.
He walked without direction between the houses,
avoiding the light,
remembering Iris's final gaze.
Did I transfer the curse...
or did I awaken it?
At the edge of the village,
he saw the small hill.
At its top,
between two rocks,
a dark opening.
A cave.
He stopped.
He did not think for long.
I will wait here...
just a little.
He climbed the hill with difficulty
and entered.
The darkness inside was damp and cold,
a silence unlike the silence of the barn.
He sat deep within,
resting his back against the stone.
He placed a hand on his chest.
The weight that had clung to him for years
was no longer the same.
But peace...
did not come.
And inside the barn—
Iris moved.
She woke suddenly,
as if someone had called to her from within.
She made no sound,
but her head lifted slowly.
Then the whispers came.
Clear...
understandable.
"Master..."
"My lord..."
She did not understand the meaning,
but her body tensed.
In the air before her,
threads of blue light began to appear—
traces of unseen footsteps
moving away from her.
And from the top of her head,
a faint black light seeped out,
like a shadow trying to take shape.
Her body rose—
before she understood why.
At that moment, Rhea was leaving the king's hall.
She walked through the stone corridor,
a strange pressure tightening in her chest.
The barn...
she said to herself.
But before she could reach it—
Iris had already left.
She followed the blue threads,
step by step,
moving between the houses
as if the path were opening only for her.
She climbed the small hill
until she reached the cave.
Inside the cave,
the sorcerer opened his eyes suddenly.
He heard a sound.
Not a human voice,
not an animal's.
A faint sound...
hesitant.
He rose cautiously
and moved toward the entrance.
A small shadow appeared on the rock.
Then—
Iris stepped out.
He froze in place.
She was different.
Her shadow was longer,
her movements unsteady,
and her eyes carried something
he had not placed there.
He said in a hoarse voice:
"...Why are you here?"
She took a step forward.
"No,"
he said quickly.
"Go back. Return to the barn."
She did not stop.
She took another step.
He retreated
until his back touched the cold stone.
Suddenly he bent down
and caught her before she reached him.
She was light,
but the sensation that passed through him
was heavy—
like an old sin.
He whispered:
"This wasn't supposed to happen..."
He carried her out of the cave
and climbed the hill again.
The village lay below them,
quiet...
unaware.
He set her down gently
and pointed with a trembling hand:
"There... go."
He waited.
She did not move.
She was only looking at him.
The whispers returned,
but they were not for him.
They were about him.
Her body leaned toward him,
one small step,
without will.
The sorcerer stepped back.
And at last, he understood.
The curse had not ended.
It had simply
chosen
to follow him.