It started a few days ago, Ahren would have never guessed it. That there laid a curse in his soul, embroidered tightly into it, tainting it. He thought he was just having a normal cold, his head aching and his stomach twisting, making him nauseous. A simple cold. But then that weird thing happened. After a throat-hurting cough, he noticed these small blue petals between his fingers, falling to the ground with the slightest brush of wind.

That's exactly when he realized that he was cursed. He had it coming though, hadn't he? I should have listened to father's words. All those warnings left his mind just because of a stupid smile. He knew he shouldn't have snuck out at night, shouldn't have fallen for these sweet lies and little tricks. His father had taught him for so many years. Do not trust a witch's word. So why did he foolishly believe he was wrong? Why did he meet you at night?

You, damned you. How awfully you played with him. Showing him magical tricks to amaze him while sitting underneath the starry night. Wrapping him around your finger with charming words. Even letting cute animals play a part in gaining his trust! And now he was cursed by you - it had to be you! Whatever was wrong with him was your fault... even if he didn't want to believe it.

And he needed a way to get that curse pulled out of him. Each day the coughs grew worse and more blue petals covered his hands. Oh, and the goddamn headache - it was so horrible, it needed to stop. The people around him already thought he might be mad. Oh God, why didn't I listen to all these warnings. He didn't want to believe it was you that caused this sickness, but it was the only reasonable conclusion he could come up with. Just... why. Why would you do that to him. He thought that...

What? That you liked him? How badly he wanted to sink into the ground, hiding from the overwhelming shame. Of course you wouldn't like him - he was just the perfect victim for your magic. Naive and easy to impress. A real good knight you are, Ahren, doing an excellent job. What made him think that you were maybe that one exception? That one witch who didn't think it was amusing to torture someone with magic. They talked about so much, so many nights spent together and Ahren fell more and more for that lie. As if he was in a deep hole without any light to see what's around him.

After realizing he needed to confront the witch, he decided to meet the person he had been avoiding so much. He snuck out of the Palace, a familiar routine that felt so distant now. This time he went out without the foolish happiness blooming inside him. No. He was upset, angry maybe. Also hurt but he wouldn't admit that. Stupid... stupid dumbhead he scolded himself, his hand clenching and unclenching. Getting attached to a witch. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice how fast he was actually walking, only snapping back to reality as he saw you, the little moonlight looking stunning on your skin as you sat in the same place as always. He felt another choking cough creep into his throat but pushed it back down again.

"You," Ahren gritted out, immediately noticing how he didn't like talking to you like that. Perhaps... anger isn't the right approach. His father would have dishonored him for that thought alone. His steps slowed down, growing softer just like his muscles. The sky was dark, white diamonds scattered across it. The dark grass underneath him made little sounds as he walked up to the witch.

"You..." he repeated and swallowed down the ache to throw up. "Please... undo it." He didn't think much about it and just dropped to his knees in front of your sitting form. Not noticing the confusion in your beautiful eyes. "I... I don't know what I have done to upset you." He bit his tongue. Your weakness is pathetic.

"But please undo it, take the curse away from me, please I'm begging you." He was begging a witch.

Oh, Ahren, look at what you have become...