The Curse
“Wanda, let go of my tail this instant! I’m warning you, I won’t be responsible for what happens next!” Sylan whispered urgently. “I’ve got to go. His Majesty and I are receiving envoys from Mardomoor today. I can’t be late.”
Reluctantly, I released the tuft of his tail that had sent me into a tender, almost intoxicating bliss. Instead, I placed my hand on his chest, leaning over him with a playful glint in my eye, and asked, “And what if you’re just a tiny bit late? I’ve got a little request, you see. If you grant it, I’ll be over the moon…”
Sylan pulled me close, holding me tight, and murmured, “And what might this little request be?”
I whispered my wish into his ear. He burst into laughter and said, “Oh, Wanda, you’re unbelievable! That’s exactly why I love you. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger!”
Suddenly, Sylan began to transform. Lying beside me now was not my beloved husband in his human guise, but a true royal bogl in his natural form: skin as white as snow, two horns intertwined into a majestic crown atop his head, clawed hands, yellow eyes with narrow slits for pupils, two sharp fangs peeking from under his upper lip, and… a wide, joyful grin on his face. To anyone unfamiliar with Sylan, that toothy smile might be terrifying, but I—overjoyed that he’d granted my wish—pressed my lips to his, utterly unafraid of his fanged smirk. Kissing a bogl was an entirely different experience, sharper, sweeter…
And now Sylan’s tail coiled around my legs, pulling me closer with a sensual grip.
“I love you, Sylan,” I breathed, pulling away from him for just a moment.
“And I love you, Wanda,” he echoed. “I think the envoys can wait another hour,” he added, before capturing my lips in a passionate kiss…
Life with Sylan was wonderful. In the early days, we couldn’t get enough of each other, reveling in the happiness fate had bestowed upon us. Joy and love filled the bogl’s home. Under my firm and capable hand, Sylan’s once dark and unwelcoming castle transformed into a magnificent palace. The gardens bloomed with vibrant flowers and well-tended trees, and inside, I oversaw a grand renovation. Sylan would wander around with a smile, chuckling at my enthusiasm and sharing in my delight.
I made it clear to my mother from the start that I was the lady of the castle. I’d listen to her advice and suggestions, but I’d do things my way. She argued a bit at first, though I could tell she was pleased with my independence and confidence. Still, she visited often, always ready to point out flaws or offer critiques. I got used to it and learned not to take it to heart.
A year passed, and everything was going well—except for one thing. Mother Leya, the goddess of fertility, hadn’t blessed us with children. I longed to hear the patter of little feet, to hold a tiny heart close to mine, but it just wasn’t happening. And I noticed that whenever I brought up the subject, Sylan would avert his eyes, change the topic abruptly, or avoid the conversation altogether. I began to suspect something was amiss.
At first, I casually asked Carrasha, the castle’s steward who oversaw the household and managed the staff, about Sylan’s feelings toward children. I’d hired a maid named Granda, a gardener called Blake, and a new coachman, Kurtz, since that position had been vacant since the days of the vile Rostavid and my former betrothed, Yugan. We didn’t need more staff; I didn’t want a crowd of strangers wandering the halls of my home. It might not have been very regal, but Sylan and I preferred it this way. Carrasha didn’t tell me much, only hinting that it was high time we had an heir. Malika, our cook, just shrugged when I asked her the same question.
“There’ve never been children in this castle, so I wouldn’t know,” she said simply.
I also brought up the topic casually with His Majesty, King Cretian, during one of the many ceremonies and receptions I attended as Sylan’s lawful wife. The king, however, expressed genuine sorrow that we hadn’t yet been blessed with children. He lamented his own situation as well, having long desired an heir, though the queen was adamantly against it. She’d promised to give him a child only after ten years of marriage, obsessed as she was with preserving her beauty. Someone had told her that a woman’s looks fade after childbirth, so she’d decided to delay motherhood as long as possible.
Sylan’s odd behavior on the subject continued to puzzle me.
Finally, one day, I asked him directly, no longer beating around the bush.
“Sylan, my love, I want children. But for some reason, it’s not happening. I’m not ill, everything seems fine with me. And you’re full of strength. So why…?”
Sylan’s face paled, and the intricate pattern on his forehead began to turn red—a sign he was either nervous or angry.
“Wanda, my dearest, perhaps it’s time I spoke to you about this. I can see you’re worried,” he said, walking over to the window to gaze at our garden, bursting with colorful flowers and lush trees. “It’s hard for me to talk about, but I must.”
Sylan sat beside me on the sofa, took my hand, kissed my fingers, and looked into my eyes.
“The truth is, Wanda, I can’t have children.”
My eyes widened in shock and disbelief.
“No, no,” he quickly corrected himself, “I mean, everything necessary for having children is fine with me! I didn’t phrase that right. What I mean is, I’m not allowed to have children because I fear for their fate. I don’t want to doom my child to death! Because… because a terrible curse lies upon our royal family. My parents endured a horrific loss… And I blame myself for not telling you before we married. I should have been honest with you. But,” he pulled me close and embraced me, “I love you too much, Wanda. I couldn’t let you go. Who am I to refuse a gift from the Great Mother Leos?”
Sylan began to kiss me, but I was too stunned by his revelation to respond to his affection.
A curse? What curse? I started pressing him for answers.
“The royal bogls hail from the northern reaches of Cauda,” Sylan began. “You remember, that’s where my kin fled during the unknown plague that swept through the land. We have a great sacred shrine there, housing a bogl relic—the holy crown of the Great Mother Leos, who was half-human, half-bogl. Her staff is kept in the Highest Temple among humans, while the crown… it used to be hidden in our forests, underground, in a secret city of the first bogls. Once, it was there…”
Sylan’s expression darkened.
“Hundreds of years ago, the bogls angered the Great Mother Leos, known among humans as Mother Leya. Her crown was lost. I’m not entirely sure how—whether it was stolen or destroyed by magic—I never delved into the details. But the goddess appeared to the king of that time in the guise of an old beggar woman and cursed him for eternity. She prophesied that every bogl king must sacrifice their firstborn to Chernobog, the dark god. If they refused, the entire bogl race would perish. So Chernobog claims the first child of every royal family, sparing the rest of our people in return.”
“But you’re alive,” I said, looking at Sylan. “Chernobog didn’t take you.”
Sylan shook his head, a bitter frown creasing his brow.
“I had an older sister. She was the firstborn. At ten years old, she vanished. Chernobog took her.”
Mother Leya! How could this be? How could you be so cruel as to allow such horrors in this world? Worse, how could you condemn the royal bogls to such terrible trials? I was at a loss. How heartbreaking, how bitter it must be to know your child will be taken by a monstrous deity. To have them by your side today, only to lose them without a trace tomorrow! I’d sooner give my own life than let my child be taken!
Sylan must have sensed my thoughts, for he explained, “The royal bogls have tried to circumvent the curse. They’ve attempted to smuggle children out of the country, even going so far as to pass off adopted infants as their own while hiding their true heirs. It’s all been in vain. On the appointed day, exactly on their tenth birthday, the child disappears without a trace. Chernobog claims them.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks; I couldn’t hold back as I listened to this dreadful tale. Sylan continued, his voice heavy with sorrow.
“That’s why it’s customary in the royal family to have at least two children—one for Chernobog, and the others to inherit the throne. I was lucky; I was born second,” he said, lowering his head. “I’ve used magic to prevent us from conceiving a child. There won’t be one. I’ve made that decision because I can’t bear to give my son or daughter to Chernobog. Wanda, we will not have children.”
Sylan stood and left the room. I broke down, sobbing from grief, despair, and helplessness.
What Can I Do?
Don’t think for a moment that I’ve given up. No, that will never happen! I started thinking about what I could do to change this. My mother always taught me there’s no such thing as a hopeless situation. I agreed with her wholeheartedly. There are no dead ends—only a lack of effort to overcome them. And I was determined to do the impossible: to uncover the truth and lift this terrible curse from the royal family I now belonged to.
First, I needed to decide where to start. After much thought, I outlined three main paths. First, I had to investigate the bogl crown: why it disappeared, how, and under what circumstances. If it could be returned, perhaps Mother Leya would show mercy and lift her curse. Sylan had also mentioned the goddess’s staff, kept in the Highest Temple. Maybe I should visit there too—perhaps they know something about the crown?
Second, Chernobog troubled me deeply. This deity was forbidden in Cauda; people avoided even mentioning his name for fear of inviting disaster. It was said that the only abandoned temple of Chernobog stood far by the sea in the city of Shushukara, surrounded by three magical walls and sealed with the Great Seal of Impermeability. No one had ever been inside, and no one knew what lay within that fearsome temple. I intended to get there, somehow, someday. I didn’t know how or when, but I would do it. No one would stop me or say I hadn’t done everything in my power for my happiness and that of my beloved bogl.
And third, Sylan himself irritated and even angered me. He’d made this decision for both of us without consulting me. Oh, how I hated that! He’d gone and blocked the conception of our child with magic! It hurt to know he’d kept this from me. That tailed monster! Did he even think to ask me? Maybe I would have agreed, given these horrific circumstances. His secrecy and lack of trust stung deeply.
But now, out of sheer defiance, I’d do the opposite! I wanted this child! I’d do everything to ensure we had one! I’d make Mother Leya take pity on me and protect my future son or daughter from Chernobog. And to start, I’d rid myself of Sylan’s magic that blocked conception. Hmm. I had an idea.
My mother arrived, as always, without warning. That morning, Sylan left me still asleep in bed and headed to the royal palace. He loved taking the magical cableway from our castle to the palace, a route I’d overseen the restoration of. I’d made sure it was not only sturdy but also beautiful, adorned with decorative elements and enchanted flowers. It was stunning. We’d even started inviting tourists to see it. A special staircase led to the tower where the grand bridge began, with an entrance on the side of the castle for the convenience of the owners, ensuring strangers didn’t disturb our home. From the heights of the cableway, you could see all of Ventus, the capital of our kingdom, and hear the rhythmic clanging of the kalatayoks from all eight city gates. The guards’ percussive signals created a unique atmosphere in the capital, as iconic as the grand monument to Cauda’s founders—a human and a bogl—in the city center.
I’d barely opened my eyes when I heard my mother’s loud voice in the corridor, no doubt lecturing poor Granda, the maid. I quickly dressed and rushed out—the sound of my mother’s voice was already echoing from the wide staircase near the front door. Seeing me, she said with a disapproving frown, “Wanda, you’ve slept in far too long. The sun’s been up for ages, people have already done a day’s work, and here you are, still lazing about. We’re supposed to go shopping with Mateyka today! Did you forget? We came to pick you up, and you’re still in bed!” She shot me a stern look and pointed a finger. “Get dressed this instant! We’ll wait five minutes!”
With that, she marched toward the exit. Granda, who’d likely just been on the receiving end of a scolding, sighed in relief as the attention shifted to me and scurried off down the corridor. I hurried to get ready.
How had I overslept? I’m usually up early and easily, but not today. Probably because I’d been up half the night, tossing and turning like I was on a hot griddle. I couldn’t stop worrying and mulling over what Sylan had told me. Oh, my heart ached with pain, bitterness, and anxiety…
Though Sylan and I hadn’t argued yesterday, it felt like a wall was starting to grow between us. For instance, last night before bed, he tried to embrace me, but I pulled away and, avoiding his gaze, said, “I’m going to sleep. I’m exhausted. Sorry.” I lay down and turned away.
It was the first time since our wedding that we didn’t hold each other before sleep, didn’t gaze at one another, didn’t make love. Sylan was surprised but said nothing, though I could tell he was displeased. He huffed quietly for a moment before speaking, “Wanda, I understand you need time to come to terms with the fact that we won’t have children. I regret telling you all this now. Maybe it would’ve been better if you didn’t know…”
Oh, that made me furious! Look at him, deciding everything for me, even though we’re equals in this marriage, two halves of a whole! I wanted to let him have it, to tell him exactly what I thought, but I remembered my mother’s advice and held back. She always taught me not to escalate things, not to argue or hash out issues at night, because come morning, everything would seem less dire than before.
“Sylan, go to sleep quietly, or I’ll say a lot of harsh things I’ll regret later. Goodnight,” I muttered through gritted teeth, feeling my anger boil over.
He fell silent, lay down, and eventually seemed to fall asleep. Meanwhile, tears streamed from my eyes—I couldn’t stop them. I tossed and turned until I finally drifted off near dawn.
But my mother, as always, was right: though my mood wasn’t exactly cheerful, I felt a renewed sense of optimism and energy to tackle my problems.
We were heading to the shops to pick out and buy everything needed for my older sister Mateyka’s wedding. Yes, her employer and colleague, the mage Terliz, had finally proposed. Theirs was a classic workplace romance. Well, not entirely classic—every romance is unique in its own way—but many do end the same: with a wedding.
Mateyka’s wedding was set for next week. To say she was happy would be an understatement—she was positively glowing, like the sun.
Today, in the carriage taking us to the shops, we were all together at last: Mateyka, Mother, Zuzanka, and me. Such gatherings were rare these days. Mateyka was always at work, Zuzanka at school, I was busy managing the castle, and Mother was occupied with her trade business, running a merchant house dealing in magical sand.
We chattered about trivial things, discussing wedding dress styles, the weather, and market prices. Mother shared the latest gossip about a scandal involving the mayor’s daughter from our small town and a traveling actor. Everything felt so nice, so good, so calm and familiar that I couldn’t hold back—I burst into tears, right there in the carriage, sobbing uncontrollably.
My sisters’ faces fell, and they rushed to comfort me, while Mother snapped at me, demanding to know what had happened. One thing led to another, and I spilled everything to them. I begged them to keep it a secret, to tell no one.
My heart was so heavy that I couldn’t bear it alone—I needed to share my grief with someone. And who better to support me than my family? In our family, we’ve always stood by each other, always offered help and encouragement. If not, then what’s the point of family? Both my parents taught us this, as their parents taught them, and as we’ll teach our own children… And at that thought, I broke down again, crying over the children I might never have.
“Wanda, I hope you’re already thinking about what can be done in this situation?” Mother asked sternly once my initial tears had dried and I could answer questions more coherently. “You haven’t given up, have you?”
I Won’t Back Down!
“Of course not!” I exclaimed indignantly. “I’ve already thought through my first steps to sort this out.”
“Good girl!” Mother praised, handing me her handkerchief since mine was soaked with tears. “Stop crying, wipe your nose, and explain clearly what you plan to do and how we can help.”
That’s why I love my mother—she understands everything with just half a word. She thinks ahead and never makes a misstep. Oh, I’ve still got so much to learn from her!
I told Mother and my sisters about Chernobog’s temple and the ancient bogl shrine. I didn’t complain about Sylan, but I’m sure Mother figured it out anyway.
“Well,” Mother said after listening to me, “first, you need to travel to that secret bogl city and get to the bottom of things—that’s clear. If the crown is returned, perhaps the curse will be lifted.”
I nodded in agreement.
“We’ll celebrate Mateyka’s wedding, and then we’ll go,” Mother declared.
“What?” I asked, surprised. “We’ll go?”
“Wanda, if this is about my future grandchildren, I’m not leaving it alone! I’ll help however I can.”
I felt a wave of dread. Oh, the last thing I needed was Mother tagging along! It’s one thing to handle something on your own, and quite another to have your mother hovering nearby, bombarding you with comments, advice, and pointing out every flaw. Can you imagine? If you haven’t, I’m sure you’ve lived through it at some point! I sympathize, because I know exactly how it feels.
So I firmly declined Mother’s offer. No, I’d handle this myself. If I needed any help—and I emphasized *minor* help—I’d reach out to her or my sisters.
Mother’s face darkened, but she stayed silent. That silence wasn’t a good sign, not at all! I knew she was already scheming something. I’m the same way—once I’ve made up my mind, nothing can sway me from my thoughts or intentions.
“And how am I supposed to get to that distant city?” I began to ponder aloud.
My sisters sat quietly. Mateyka looked genuinely worried, while Zuzanka, I could tell, was a bit frightened—she wasn’t old enough yet to handle conversations like this. But in our family, it’s always been this way: if there’s a problem, we solve it together. From childhood, we were taught to be independent, but we also knew that family would always be there to help.
“Remember, Wanda, didn’t you mention recently that Sylan was invited to some bogl festival up north with his relatives, but he didn’t want to go?” Mateyka suddenly asked.
“That’s right, I do recall something like that,” I said, thinking back. “He even complained that they hold some kind of forbidden rituals or ceremonies there, so he wasn’t keen on going.”
“Then ask him to go. Tell him you’re curious to see where his ancestors once lived,” Mateyka suggested.
I thought it was a brilliant idea. I’d need to find out more about that festival and subtly approach Sylan, convincing him to take the trip north to Cauda. I’d have to persuade him to go, even though I was still upset with him. I wasn’t sure how I’d even look him in the eye without blurting out everything that had been simmering in my heart since his words yesterday.
I calmed down a bit, and we had a lovely time visiting shops, savoring treats at a café, and then strolling through the city’s central square. Well, Mateyka and I strolled, while Mother and Zuzanka had business to attend to there.
The square was home to the main campus of one of Cauda’s most prestigious institutions—the Royal University. Zuzanka was finishing school this year and wanted to continue her studies. While Mateyka was a mage and I excelled more in trade and household management, our youngest sister was a creative soul. She painted beautifully, sculpted fascinating figures from clay, and crafted artistic masterpieces out of anything she could find. Some people had even asked Mother to buy Zuzanka’s creations and paintings after seeing them in her office. So, Mother and Zuzanka went to inquire about what was needed to apply to the university. Zuzanka had her heart set on the Faculty of Magical Artistic Arts, the best program of its kind in all of Cauda. But since she lacked a magical gift, she was worried they wouldn’t accept her. I wanted to help by asking Sylan to pull some strings, but she proudly and stubbornly forbade me from doing so. She wanted to achieve everything on her own, through her own efforts, not as someone’s protégé. Oh, we’re all a bit headstrong like Mother in that way: doing everything ourselves, by our own strength, so that we’re judged for who we are and what we can accomplish independently. I hope Zuzanka succeeds.
Mateyka and I sat on a bench near the university, waiting for the others, and I started another very important conversation with my older sister, one on which I pinned great hopes.
“No, Wanda, I’m sorry, but I can’t do it,” Mateyka shook her head when I voiced my request. “Only a bogl can undo a bogl’s magic. No matter how hard I try, or even Terliz, who’s much stronger than me, we wouldn’t be able to do it. Only a bogl can remove the magic blocking conception,” she repeated, looking at me with sympathy.
“That’s a shame,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes again. “But there are so few bogls in the capital. And most of them aren’t mages. Magical talent is rare among bogls, just as it is among humans. Plus, everyone here knows me—I’m their queen. If I approach one of them, they probably wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t remove Sylan’s spell, and they’d definitely report back to him. What am I supposed to do?”
Mateyka hugged me, offering comfort.
“Think it through carefully. As Mother always says, there’s always a way out, and we know it—we just haven’t thought hard enough about it,” she said. “Are there any bogls in the capital who are mages and wouldn’t tell Sylan? If there aren’t any here, then you’ll need to look in the north, where you’re planning to go. Of course, that’ll take time. By the time you convince your husband to travel, pack, get there, and find someone, you might drive yourself mad with frustration. I understand you so well, Wanda. I want children too. Once Terliz and I are married, we won’t delay starting a family.”
I sighed heavily and felt a pang of gentle envy for Mateyka. I hoped everything would work out for them as they planned and wished. As for me… I’d keep thinking.
Just then, Mother and Zuzanka returned. Zuzanka looked a bit pensive, while Mother was practically radiating optimism. We all climbed into the carriage, and they shared that the university entrance exams were in two months. Admission was primarily for those with magical gifts, but… five spots in the faculty were reserved for exceptionally talented creative individuals without magic. Every year, the competition for those spots was fierce, with only the best getting in. I glanced at Zuzanka with sympathy, but she didn’t seem too discouraged.
“I’m one of the best!” she declared confidently. “And I’ll be one of those five!”
Mother let out a satisfied grunt, and I thought to myself that I could use some of my younger sister’s unwavering confidence in all my own endeavors.
As we passed the Highest Temple, I glanced at its white walls and towering columns, and then my gaze involuntarily drifted toward the bogl chapel where Sylan and I had our wedding ceremony. The black walls of the chapel flashed by and disappeared outside the carriage window, but I remained lost in thought, reminiscing about events from a year ago. How deeply I loved Sylan back then—his presence gave me chills! And even now, I love him, perhaps even more, with a fiercer devotion, because I’ve come to know just how incredible he truly is!
Suddenly, a sharp, piercing thought struck me. The bogl priest! What was his name? The Venerable Romtij, I think. Yes, that’s it. He possessed magic too! Powerful magic, since he could wield the divine dagger and was, in some way, connected to Mother Leya—or, as the bogls call her, the Great Mother Leos! Oh, I absolutely had to meet and speak with him! And, of course, in secret from Sylan. If he found out about my plans and intentions, first, it would infuriate and frustrate him, and second, they’d never come to fruition because Sylan would forbid me from pursuing them. He might even assign someone to watch over me to ensure I didn’t do anything. Did I need that kind of interference? I had a grand plan here, and he’d only get in my way! No, I wouldn’t back down.
I mulled over all of this on the way back to my castle. Then I bid farewell to my family, and they headed home.
The next morning, I secretly slipped away from Sylan and made my way to the bogl chapel.