Chapter 2: Dream Ceremony


    Lnd’s face crooked into a deep smile, one that pulled his cheeks to their highest arc. Movement quickly pulled his gaze, and he found an ebony crow staring at him with huge amethyst eyes.


    It tilted its head, inspecting the human while silently conveying its unhappiness.


    The crow, as small as it was, held the presence of a god. It looked at Lnd with the ego of the heavens, the <em>arrogance</em> of a Lord. It <em>cawed</em> once, booming its power across the darkenedndscape from one horizon to the other. The spindly trees vibrated from the sudden earthquake, uprooting before being consumed by their dirt housings.


    The forest fell apart, transforming into a barren wastnd of undeath and ruin. Groans echoed from the marshy floor as sickly green hands sprouted into life. At first the hands waved around like a crowd cheering for a performance but they eventually grew enough to pull their bodies from the soil.


    Souls, hundreds, one for each tree, groaned and moaned, each transfixed on Lnd. They tracked him, not that he was moving but rather because they were forced to. Their bodies didn’t sit idle, they twisted and contorted, like their ghostly muscles were cramping.


    “Hmph.”


    Lnd turned back to the crow. It still sat on an isted tree, but this tree had grown. Bone and antler spiraled around the open air, creating branches and life. Sparkling puffs of magic bloomed along the branches, each whispering their powerwords like budding flowers.


    Reds, greens, deep blues, even a few marbled ck and white spells, were within the tree. It was Lnd’s tree, he knew, but not for another day… or maybe not. Was it this it? He couldn’t remember… had he gone to bed yet? He smiled again.


    “The Legacy of the Lord of Curses,” the crow spoke in a harsh voice, like it was screaming and whispering at the same time. “You ept, don’t you?”Ahh, there it was. Lnd had fallen asleep, it was finally his birthday. Neen. He couldn’t believe it, he was finally of age to be someone new – something worthwhile. It was finally time to ept his Legacy, years he had waited for this moment. <em>The </em><em>Legacy of the--</em>


    <em>Wait</em>.


    “Lord of Curses?” Lnd asked, his mind reeling back into reality, or rather, to the <em>Dream Ceremony. </em>“Seriously?”


    The crow tilted its head before cawing once. Thendscape shifted back to the spiny forest, souls of the Damned disappearing back into the ground. Only the massive bone tree remained, along with the spells of the Curse Lord.


    “What do you mean, <em>‘seriously</em>?’” the crow asked, its voice fading from harsh to disbelief.


    Lnd frowned. “Well, I mean. Mom and Dad were legacies of the Magic Lord… I figured I would be the same… I had it all nned out… First I’d learn water magic, maybe a simple healing spell, then progress into lightning. Thebination would be rather effect—”


    “Stop,” the crow ordered. It sighed, bringing forth arge wind. The trees shook, even Lnd stumbled a bit.


    “Did I do something—”


    “No, no.” The crow hopped to a different branch, turning its back away from the human. “It’s just the natural reaction every one of my Legacy has. It’s me, right?”


    Before Lnd could respond the crow continued. “‘Try to intimidate potential Legacies.’ I was urged to do. ‘Make them <em>fear </em>my power, so that they feel the touch of greed upon their minds.” The crow turned to the open air, <em>cawing </em>a muted curse before a drop of liquid fell from its amethyst eye.


    Lnd’s face scrunched. “A-are you crying?”


    “No!” The force of the word stripped thend of all things, besides the tree with the spells on its branches, of course.


    Lnd suddenly found the situation ufortable. He struggled to stand still, his legs pushing him to console the saddened Lord. He walked over to the tree, putting his hand on the boney trunk.


    “You don’t have to cry,” he said. “There has to be <em>someone</em> who will ept your Legacy, right?”


    For a moment the crow nced at him before turning back away. “No. They are all snatched up by the Magic Lord before I have a chance. It''s rare I get the first petition for the magically inclined. Even rarer that they ept my offer.”


    Lnd paused. “W-why did you get first petition over me then?”


    The crow <em>huffed</em>. “A rtive on your mother’s side was a Legacy of mine some two thousand years ago. When the Gift of Magic appears in your bloodline, or any of my other patrons, I have rite of the first.”


    “So, my mother declined your offer then? She’s a powerful mage, she must have the Gift of Magic or whatever. Why wouldn’t she tell me about this?”


    Now the crow looked back at him, its eyes glinting in shame. “No, she didn’t have the Gift. It goes beyond simply being able to use magic like anymon mage. Curses take a sophisticated hand, much more than casting fireballs.”


    That caught Lnd’s attention. “Does it now? Can you exin?”


    The crow ruffled a wing. “The potency differs from person to person, but they always have one thing inmon. They all be excellent, best in ss, in fact, mages.”


    “Just mages though?”


    “Yes, yes. Don’t remind me. There hasn’t been a Warlock in some time. Two thousand years to be precise. Your grandmother from forty generations ago, in fact.”


    The title of <em>Warlock</em> caught Lnd’s eye. He could see it now, standing before his mother and father as a <em>Warlock.</em> Haha, that’d be the day he thought. He would finally demand the respect he thought he deserved. No longer would he be forced to do remedial tasks like <em>runic blending</em>. <em>Ugh</em> he hated runic blending.


    “What, uh, how would curses differ from normal spells? I am unfamiliar.”


    The crow was silent for a long moment. It only stared at him, almost in disbelief. “Curses are generally considered evil or vile, but that is simply not true. A fireball can deal as much damage as ripping the soul from an enemy’s body. In fact, pulling souls is much more humane than burning someone alive, in my opinion.”


    Lnd squinted. “Uh huh.”


    “Then there are cantrips. Always fun, those. Someone bothers you, curse them to a sleepless night or copy the voice of their mother and yell at them. Either way, psychological warfare is a hell of a way to battle.”


    Lnd squinted more.


    “Then there are rituals. A bit more involved but nothing someone with the Gift of Magic can’t handle. But their niche is few and far between, I’m afraid. Most of your curses will simply harm targets, although they are more useful than just <em>zapping</em> a gnoll with lightning. Same oue, but you’ll be safer. Actually, you could even forge a contract with the Lord of Magic and get his blessing.”


    “Right…” Lnd said. “I’m notpletely sold, however.”


    Like a switch had been flipped, the crow’s mirth fell, mimicking the drop of liquid falling from its eye. “That’s what they all say. My sisters say it''s my personality. I’m just too passionate, you know?”


    And Lnd did know. He was very passionate about magic, even the tedious part his parents made him study on repeat. Still, he could see a future where he was a Warlock. It was a pipedream, he knew. Bing a magus was regarded as a life aplishment, anything past that was a miracle.


    Still, after today, his life expectancy would significantly elongate. If he chose to be a farmer after this, disregarding a life of magic, he would estimate he’d live another one hundred and fifty years at least. But if he did choose the path of the Warlock, then maybe he’d live for thousands.


    <em>Thousands of years?</em> Lnd asked himself. <em>Yeah that should be plenty of time.</em>


    He turned back to the crow. An isted miniature rain cloud had sprouted above its head, releasing its downpour solely on the bird. The sight made him crack a smile.


    “I’ve decided,” Lnd announced.


    The crow perked up a bit. “Do you ept my Legacy as the Lord of Curses?”


    “Yes,” he answered.


    There was no cheering, there was no hurrah. No falling confetti or zing trumpets. Only a smirking crow, one with a devilish look - like the face of an actor after the performance of a lifetime. It jumped from its branch, fluttering before Lnd. It morphed and mutated, snapping bones and discarding feathers. Dark cloth formed and took, unveiling an elderly human woman with shining gray eyes with sparkling shards of amethyst.


    “Wee to my coven, Lnd Silver,” the Lord of Curses spoke. “You will not regret your choice.”


    She held a wrinkled hand out, a glob of pure mana formed along her bony palm like a drop of sweat. It glowed somber purple before she abruptly rotated her hand, allowing gravity to take it. The dropnded against the soft soil, falling through the loose grains of dirt.


    A rumble shook the area, enough to force Lnd to his knees. He looked at his Lord, wondering what she intended for him.


    The woman only smirked as the ground parted. Stems and roots poured from the hole, ushering in new life. Gray eyes appeared all around the forest, each staring at their newfound brother. They stood back, allowing the hole to produce all of its wonderment.


    Eventually the roots and vines stopped and the Lord of Curses stepped forward. She idly reached into the center of the main mass, fishing around for her Legacy. With a striking pull, her hand returned holding a grimoire. Gently she passed it to Lnd.


    As soon as he touched the thick book, power and knowledge flowed through him where it eventually fell dormant. His mind closed up, locking his new power under the guise of experience. He smiled, looking over the tome.


    It was a grimoire, that much was certain. But the runes and glyphs etched around the center cover were unknown to him. A ram skull, sewed with purple felt and golden thread, met his eyes, the hollow sockets staring with anticipation and potential. He felt power from within the book, <em>no – </em>from within <em>his</em> book.


    It was his Legacy now, it was his tomand. His parents had prepared him for this moment, giving him assignment after assignment about the subjects of the Dream Ceremony. If he remembered correctly, then all he had to do was—


    The grimoire <em>popped</em> from reality, disappearing into a newly formed tattoo on the back of his palm. It took the form of a crow in midflight. Concentrating, Lnd urged the book to reappear in his hands. It did, just how he imagined. He checked, the tattoo was gone as well. He smiled, turning to his Lord and sending the grimoire away once again. There would be time to yter.


    “Thank you,” Lnd said. “I can feel the power of your curses.”


    The wrinkled old woman smiled. “You mean <em>your</em> curses. Not mine. They are as much yours as mine, I only show you a path forward.”


    She raised her hand. “But you will learn in time. It is time for you to return, I only wish to leave you with some parting advice.”


    Lnd straightened his posture. “Thank you, I’ll dly hear it.”


    “Be careful of Witchhunters. They should onlye after you if you abuse your power.”


    “Wait what?” Lnd started to panic. “What do you mean Witchhunters maye for me? I thought they only went after Witches?”


    The Lord of Curses smiled solemnly. “And those who abuse dark spells. Simply don’t, and you will be fine.”


    Lnd scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, alright then… Thanks for the advice.”


    Then the Lord of this Realm snapped her fingers, causing Lnd’s eyes to whip open back in the real world.


    The first thing he noticed was that the crow tattoo was very much real. The second was that the town’s emergency bells were chiming.


    The Lord of Curses ruefully smiled to herself. She hated lying, especially the theatrics of it all. But still, it had to be done in this case. It wasn’t everyday she offered her Legacy, best to make sure he ept her power.


    Her gaze fell to the open air. Suddenly a muted<em> pop</em> invaded her domain, summoning forth an older man. They stared at each other for a long moment before the Lord of Curses spoke.


    “Your advice sucked! ‘Try to intimidate?’ I was losing him until I pulled out the waterworks.”


    The Lord of Magic raised an eyebrow. “You cried to a mortal?”


    “About how no one epts my Legacy, yes,” she said, ignoring the embarrassing connotation. “Guilted him into epting.”


    “But he epted nheless?”


    The Curse Lord nodded.


    A smile sprouted on the Lord of Magic’s face. “Can’t say I’m not disappointed. His parents are two of my favorites. But it''s not every day you wish to indoctrinate a new Legacy. In fact I don’t even remember thest one.”


    “She was about two thousand years or so ago.”


    That cut the Magic Lord’s smile. “Ah, right… It really has been a long time.”