I feel I have been neglecting all of you as I have been pursuing new adventures, however there is a book waiting in the wings, calling me to complete it.
So today, I offer a small taste to prove that it’s existence is indeed real.
I hope you enjoy this small peak of Cursed.
Arabella Alario sat in the corner of the small cottage, tears of sadness dripping down her face. Such sorrow having never touched her soul before. It was in the midst of this sorrow that her very soul enraged and burst like flames from a fire.
Nicco Agosti would pay for his deceit.
Arabella dried her tears and began her journey, searching for the gypsy woman known as Cosmina. An old Romanian who was said to camp in the woods some distance from Arabella’s cottage.
People from Arabella’s village had whispered tales of her mystical powers, but few if any had ever dared to seek the woman out. Arabella could not be certain that this woman was a conjurer as they had implied, but her situation was dire and she would stop at little to wreak her revenge. Arabella walked along the roadside, carrying only her swollen belly and a small purse of gold coin. Her back aching, the sun beating down upon her, exhaustion threatening to overcome her. She pushed on until she reached the wooded clearing.
A circle of wagons made up the encampment. Each unique with colorful trims and decorations. Few faces were seen as Arabella made her way between the tightly fit wagons to the inner circle. A fire pit filling a large portion of the inner circle had not yet been lit for the evening. Looking around, at a loss of where to begin, Arabella began calling for Cosmina – the name whispered to her by the gossiping villagers.
“Cosmina! Cosmina where are you! I need your help,” Arabella beckoned with all her might.
“Calm child. I am here,” the old gypsy said as she appeared from her wagon. “Are you lost, child?” She questioned.
“No, Cosmina. I am not lost. I’ve been betrayed and I seek vengeance.” Arabella cried.
“Vengeance is a strong word for such a young girl. What has happened to cause you such distress?”
“Nicco Agosti promised to wed me. I grow his child in my belly. But now he denies me and has taken another bride. I want him to pay for his deceitfulness.”
“He is not the only guilty one in this, though, is he not? Perhaps you have a place in this as well?”
“I acted only upon the promise he made to me with such sincerity. I am ashamed for my choice, but he made the promise with this ring.” Arabella declared, showing the gypsy the golden band he had placed upon her right hand.
“I will help you child, but you must be prepared to accept the consequences, whatever they might be” the gypsy warned
“Consequences? I do not understand Cosmina?”
“Sometimes child, when we punish others, we also punish ourselves.”
“I don’t care about the consequences. I want him to suffer for his betrayal.”
“Then, we shall begin,” the gypsy replied most solemnly
Cosmina took Arabella by the hand and they began to walk to Cosmina’s wagon. They had only moved a few steps when the pains began. Arabella clutching her belly, groaning in agony and finally falling to her knees.
“How far are you child?”
“ the Eighth month,” Arabella replied through gritted teeth.
“Your time has come early it seems,” the gypsy remarked, waving toward the onlooking women, who flocked to her side immediately.
“We must move her to the wagon quickly.”
The women helped Arabella to her feet and they moved her swiftly to Cosmina’s wagon, placing Arabella on the bed. The pains quickly growing in their intensity. Cosmina remained by her side as the other gypsy women fussed about in preparation for the baby’s arrival, Arabella begged for relief from the pain, but there was no relief any of them could provide. Arabella was weak. Ill nourished, exhausted from her journey. Cosmina, in all her wisdom, knew that Arabella would have a difficult time birthing the child.
Arabella labored for some time. The pains only worsened. Arabella’s screams echoed throughout the woods sending the birds into the air to escape the noise. Cosmina watched Arabella as she lay there laboring, clinging to life. The raven haired girl could not have been more than sixteen or seventeen years old. The glimmer of childhood still fresh. Her youth could not protect her from the ills of childbirth. She labored hard for hours, her body drenched and exhausted. At last, the baby came forth. Its cries bringing cheers of joy to the women, but the cheers dimmed quickly as Arabella paled and began to drift into death.
Cosmina handed the newborn to one of the waiting women who whisked the child away from the sight its dying mother. Cosmina watched the girl as she sank into unconsciousness. There was something about this girl that touched Cosmina; something that compelled Cosmina to reach into the furthest depths of her knowledge, to reach out to the oldest and most forbidden of magic.
Cosmina closed her eyes and whispered the forbidden words.