By afternoon, I was feeling almost human again.
Almost.
My head still ached, and I felt like I'd been wrung out and left to dry, but I could walk without swaying and think without my brain feeling like mush.
Progress.
Functional progress.
Good enough for curse training.
I'd sent word to Celeste that I was recovered and ready to continue my training. She'd responded immediately with a location—one of the hidden rooms in the eastern wing that Mother had shown me.
Secret curse training.
In a hidden room.
With forbidden grimoires.
This is either going to be AMAZING or a complete DISASTER.
Probably both.
I arrived at the designated room to find Celeste already there, along with Corvus and—
Elara.
Princess Elara is HERE.
For CURSE training.
Oh, this is going to be INTERESTING.
Elara looked up as I entered, and her face lit up with relief.
"Isabel!" she said, and she actually rushed over to hug me.
She's hugging me.
The crown princess is HUGGING me.
What is my LIFE?
In front of witnesses.
I awkwardly patted her back, because apparently I'm terrible at receiving affection.
This is fine.
This is NORMAL.
Princesses hug villainess mentors all the time.
Totally standard.
"I was so worried!" Elara said, pulling back to look at me. "They said you collapsed and no one would tell me what happened and I thought—"
"I'm fine," I interrupted, because if she keeps talking I might actually feel EMOTIONS about this. "Just... overextended myself with the illusion magic. Rookie mistake."
Humiliating rookie mistake.
That I'm never making again.
Probably.
"A mistake you won't repeat," Corvus said from the shadows, his voice as dry and ancient as ever. His skeletal form somehow managed to look both menacing and scholarly. "Mana depletion is a harsh teacher, but an effective one."
He's not wrong.
I definitely learned my lesson.
Celeste was watching me with those sharp, assessing eyes. "You look terrible," she said bluntly.
The lesson being: I have limits and ignoring them makes me pass out like an idiot.
"Thank you," I said. "That's exactly what every woman wants to hear after waking up from a magical coma."
"But you're functional," she continued, ignoring my sarcasm. "And that's what matters. We have work to do."
Work.
CURSE work.
Finally.
She gestured to the table in the center of the room, where several books were laid out—old, leather-bound tomes that practically radiated dark magic.
Oh.
Oh, those are BEAUTIFUL.
Those are FORBIDDEN.
I want to read ALL of them.
I want to ABSORB them.
The books looked ancient—the kind of ancient that suggested they'd survived multiple book burnings and at least one apocalypse. The leather covers were cracked and worn, and I could see symbols etched into them that made my eyes water if I looked too long.
Perfect.
Absolutely PERFECT.
"Today," Celeste said, her voice taking on that teacher tone, "we're going to cover curses."
Curses.
CURSES.
Finally.
This is what I've been WAITING for.
Elara moved closer to the table, her eyes wide with fascination. "I've never seen books like these before," she said softly.
"That's because they're illegal," Celeste said matter-of-factly. "The Church of Radiance has spent centuries trying to destroy every copy. These are some of the last remaining texts on curse magic in Astervane."
And we're going to LEARN from them.
We're going to learn FORBIDDEN MAGIC.
This is the BEST DAY.
Even with the lingering headache.
Corvus moved to stand beside the table, his skeletal hands resting on the ancient wood. "Curses are different from other forms of magic," he said. "They are not immediate. They are not flashy. They are patient."
"Curses are elegant," Celeste added, opening one of the books with reverent care. "They're subtle. They're how dark magic practitioners survive in a kingdom that hunts them."
She turned the book so I could see the pages—filled with intricate symbols and text in a language I didn't recognize.
Old Valdric.
The ancient language of dark magic.
I need to learn this.
I need to learn ALL of this.
"A curse requires two components," Celeste continued, tracing one of the symbols with her finger. "First, an incantation—spoken aloud in the old tongue. Second, a symbol—drawn on an object that will carry the curse to its target."
Incantation plus symbol.
Like a magical equation.
I can do equations.
I was TERRIBLE at math in my past life, but I can do MAGICAL equations.
"The symbol acts as an anchor," Celeste explained. "The incantation activates it. Together, they create a magical effect that bypasses most conventional defenses."
Bypasses defenses.
That's HUGE.
That means I could curse someone even if they have protective wards.
That's STRATEGIC.
That's USEFUL.
"What kind of effects?" I asked, leaning forward despite my exhaustion.
Celeste smiled—that cold, knowing smile that meant she was about to teach me something DEVASTATING.
"Weakness. Exhaustion. Confusion. Paranoia. Slow degradation of health or mental faculties. Curses work over time, wearing down the target until they're vulnerable."
Slow.
Patient.
DEVASTATING.
I love it.
"Show me," I said.
I love EVERYTHING about this.
Celeste pulled out a small wooden disk and a piece of chalk. "We'll start with something simple—a minor weakness curse. It will make the target feel tired and sluggish for a few hours. Nothing permanent, nothing traceable."
She drew a symbol on the disk—a complex pattern of lines and curves that seemed to shift and writhe as I looked at it.
The symbol is ALIVE.
It's responding to the magic.
It's BEAUTIFUL.
Then she spoke—a string of words in that ancient language, harsh and guttural and powerful.
"Mor'thak vel'shara keth'thun mor'vel."
The symbol flared with dark light, and I felt the curse activate—a pulse of magic that made my skin prickle.
That's it.
That's a CURSE.
That's what I need to learn.
The disk glowed for a moment, then settled into a dull, malevolent shimmer.
Perfect.
Absolutely PERFECT.
"Now you try," Celeste said, handing me the chalk and a fresh disk.
Okay.
Okay, I can do this.
I've learned necromancy and illusion magic.
I can learn curses.
How hard can it be?
I copied the symbol as carefully as I could, trying to match every line and curve exactly. It was harder than it looked—the lines seemed to want to go in different directions, and I had to concentrate to keep them stable.
Focus.
Precision.
This is like drawing a magic circle in an anime.
Except if I fuck it up, I'll probably curse MYSELF.
Which would be EMBARRASSING.
When I finished, I looked up at Celeste. "Now the incantation?"
She nodded and spoke the words again, slowly this time so I could hear each syllable.
Okay.
Okay, I think I've got it.
I took a deep breath and spoke.
Mor'thak vel'shara keth'thun mor'vel.
Easy.
"Mor'thak vel'shana—"
Wait.
Was it vel'shara or vel'shana?
FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
"—keth'thun mor'vel."
The symbol flared—but wrong. Instead of the dark, controlled pulse I'd seen with Celeste's curse, this was chaotic, wild, angry.
And then it hit me.
OH FUCK.
OH FUCK OH FUCK OH FUCK.
My legs went weak, like someone had cut all the strength from my muscles. I stumbled, barely catching myself on the edge of the table.
The curse rebounded.
I cursed MYSELF.
I'm such an IDIOT.
My legs were shaking, trembling, completely unable to support my weight properly. It felt like I'd just run a marathon while carrying a house.
This SUCKS.
This sucks SO MUCH.
"Interesting," Corvus said, and he sounded almost amused. "You mispronounced the third word. 'Vel'shana' instead of 'vel'shara.' The curse interpreted you as the target."
Thank you, Captain Obvious.
Very HELPFUL.
I'm SO glad you're here to explain my failures in REAL TIME.
I tried to stand up straight, but my legs were having none of it. Every muscle felt weak and trembling.
Elara looked concerned. "Isabel, are you—"
"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth. "Just... experiencing the consequences of my own incompetence."
Again.
For the SECOND TIME TODAY.
I'm on a ROLL.
Celeste was watching me with that assessing look again. "The effect will wear off in about ten minutes. Try again."
Try again.
She wants me to try AGAIN.
While I'm still suffering from the first attempt.
I hate her.
I respect her, but I hate her.
Nyx, who had been coiled silently on my shoulders, finally spoke up.
"You're really bad at this," he said helpfully.
I'm going to curse HIM next.
I'm going to curse him SO HARD.
I'm going to make him regret every sarcastic comment.
I took another disk and drew the symbol again, my hands shaking slightly from the weakness curse.
Focus.
Get it RIGHT this time.
Vel'shara, not vel'shana.
Vel'SHARA.
With an 'r' sound.
How hard is that?
I spoke the incantation again, carefully pronouncing each word.
"Mor'thak vel'shara—"
Good.
That's right.
I'm doing it.
"—keth'mor... vel'thun."
Wait.
WAIT.
Was it vel'thun or mor'vel?
Did I just reverse the last two words?
FUCK.
The symbol flared again—and this time the rebound was different.
My head exploded with pain.
FUCK.
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
MY HEAD.
MY HEAD IS SPLITTING OPEN.
It felt like someone was driving nails into my skull, a sharp, stabbing pain that made my vision blur and my stomach lurch.
I'm going to throw up.
I'm going to throw up and pass out and DIE.
Again.
I doubled over, clutching my head, trying not to scream.
For the THIRD TIME.
"Confusion curse," Corvus said calmly, like he was commenting on the weather. "You reversed the final two words. The curse is causing mental disorientation and pain."
I NOTICED.
I FUCKING NOTICED.
Nyx slithered down from my shoulders and coiled on the table, watching me with those gleaming purple eyes.
Thank you for the PLAY-BY-PLAY.
"You're really bad at this," he said again, somehow making it sound even more mocking than the first time.
I'm going to curse him.
I'm going to curse him SO HARD.
I'm going to make him suffer for CENTURIES.
The pain was starting to fade—slowly, agonizingly slowly—but it was still there, a throbbing ache behind my eyes that made thinking difficult.
Two attempts.
Two failures.
Two rebound curses.
I'm starting to see why curse magic isn't more popular.
It's because it SUCKS when you fuck it up.
Celeste handed me another disk, and her expression was somewhere between amused and impressed.
"Third time's the charm," she said.
She's ENJOYING this.
She's enjoying watching me suffer.
Everyone in this room is a SADIST.
Including my familiar.
ESPECIALLY my familiar.
But I took the disk anyway, because I'm not a quitter.
I'm going to get this RIGHT.
I'm going to master this curse if it KILLS me.
Which it might.
But that's a risk I'm willing to take.
I drew the symbol again, my hands steadier now despite the lingering weakness and headache. I focused on every line, every curve, making sure it was perfect.
Precision.
Control.
This is the one.
This is where I prove I'm not a complete disaster.
Then I spoke the incantation, slowly and carefully, making sure every syllable was correct.
"Mor'thak vel'shara keth'thun mor'vel."
The symbol flared—and this time it was right.
The dark light was controlled, focused, perfect. I felt the curse activate properly, felt it settle into the disk like it was supposed to.
And then—
Oh.
Oh, the pain is GONE.
The weakness is GONE.
The curse effects just... DISAPPEARED.
I stood up straight, feeling normal again—well, as normal as I ever felt.
I did it.
I actually DID IT.
Third time's the charm, just like Celeste said.
Celeste was smiling—a genuine smile of approval that I'd rarely seen from her.
"Well done," she said. "You learned from your mistakes and corrected them. That's the mark of a true practitioner."
She's PROUD of me.
The terrifying dark magic priestess is PROUD of me.
I'm going to pretend that doesn't make me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Corvus nodded, his skeletal form somehow conveying approval. "The curse is properly formed. The incantation translates to: 'Let weakness take root, let strength fade, let the body betray itself.' A simple but effective curse."
I looked down at the disk in my hand, at the symbol that now glowed with a faint dark light.
I made this.
I created a CURSE.
I'm officially a curse practitioner.
This is AMAZING.
This is EVERYTHING.
Elara had been watching the entire process with wide eyes, taking in every detail. I could see her lips moving slightly, like she was memorizing the incantation.
She's learning.
She's watching and LEARNING.
She's absorbing all of this.
"That was incredible," she said softly. "You kept trying even after it hurt you. Even after you cursed yourself twice."
She's not just observing.
She's MEMORIZING.
She's cataloging every step, every word, every symbol.
She's going to be able to replicate this.
I looked at her—really looked at her—and realized something.
The crown princess is going to be able to cast CURSES.
Oh.
Oh, I've created a MONSTER.
A beautiful, dangerous, politically powerful MONSTER.
I'm so PROUD.
"It's all about precision," I said, trying to sound like a proper teacher instead of someone who just cursed herself twice in ten minutes. "One wrong word and the curse rebounds. You have to be absolutely certain of every syllable."
"I understand," Elara said, and the determination in her voice was almost frightening.
She's committed.
She's going to master this.
And when she does, she's going to be UNSTOPPABLE.
Celeste closed the book with a soft thud. "That's enough for today. You've learned the basics of curse construction. Tomorrow, we'll cover more complex curses—ones that last longer and have more severe effects."
More complex curses.
Tomorrow.
I can't WAIT.
"Thank you," I said, and I meant it. "This is... exactly what I needed."
Celeste's smile turned knowing. "I know. That's why I'm teaching you."