Cursed Talismans Novels & Stories

Tyr went to Maxime around the same time the next day. “You’ve arrived.” When Maxime saw Tyr approaching, he pulled out the wrist guards. The artifacts, which had appeared to be grayish the day before, were now silvery and shiny. They were very dazzling, and the runes on the surface appeared to be alive. One would grow dizzy after staring at them for a prolonged amount of time. “What exactly are those things, Senior Belisarius?” “To explain in more metaphysical terms, Tyr, these wrist guards are called talismans,” Maxime said after a brief pause.

She reached into her satchel and pulled out several small, iridescent charms that shimmered with a faint, violet light. "So, I’ve crafted these talismans," she said, passing one to Elena. "They’re infused with mountain ash and a drop of purified spring water. The second an obsidian coin touches the wearer’s skin, the talisman triggers a cleansing pulse. It clears the negative charge instantly, neutralizing the coin’s dampening effect. It won't just keep them powered up—it’ll keep them from losing consciousness and being taken."

"Our ancestors weren't just containing something that was already there—they were containing something they helped create." "But our parents found a way to break the cycle." I flip to the final pages. "A purification ritual instead of a binding one." "Does it explain how?" I scan the text, my excitement fading. "It mentions using 'the Lens' to focus combined energies on the exact moment of alignment, but doesn't give specific instructions. It says those are encoded in..." I trail off, looking up at Cain. "In the crystal." He holds up the sphere. "This must be the Lens."

That I was to be the pack's historian, so I must take special classes at what they called the Artamas Academy School for the gifted. My first memory of Artamas. I was small, so small. I walked in with Esmerelda holding my hand. We walked into a Library of sorts. It looked old, though, nothing like the library at the packhouse. There was a small blonde-haired boy with the most piercing blue- almost ice-colored eyes. Maybe a year older than me. He was doing a puzzle. Every time he got the piece wrong, he winced as if being shocked. He smiled at me, a smile so bright it took my fear away. This place made me want my mother. She left me. She didn't want me. No one wanted me. That is what they tol

“Your stalkers weren’t lying when they claimed the rogue alpha has over forty witches at his disposal. I’m not surprised they planted something like this. It was probably meant for her all along.” My frown deepened, unease knotting in my chest. “So she thought she was clever, stealing it for leverage, but ended up getting played instead. Is the curse still active?” Cassiel lifted one shoulder in a shrug, his eyes never leaving the stone. “I cannot say for sure. The curse could be anything. A slow sickness, nightmares, a compulsion to act against her will. That is the problem with cursed objects. They rarely announce themselves until it is too late.” His voice dropped lower, almost thoughtful

Kael said but Talon still remained quiet. "I don't know how to explain it. It started all of a sudden at the game. I was okay before but now, whenever someone touches me, I become dizzy and I'm in pain." "Might be a curse," Jett said making me gasp. A curse? "A curse is a spell that is super hard to undo. We have to find the person that cast the spell and the medium used in casting the spell." Talon explained speaking for the first time since I woke up.

"They were relic-bound. Curse-souls, scraps of ancient battles, locked beneath the earth by the first flame-callers. But something — or someone — breached the seal." Krishna touched the talisman hidden under her cloak. "Perfera." Ignatius nodded darkly. "And once shattered, the relics don't only release the monsters. They nourish them." "On what?" she asked, although she already knew. "On emotion," Ignatius replied. "Desire. Sorrow. Resentment. The blacker it becomes within the people's hearts, the more potent the curse grows. It spreads like fire through weakness. Doubt. Fury."

his heart was tainted and no amount of water and soap would wash that away! "You little scramp!" the man hisses and grabs both my arms, forcing me to step backwards, my back hitting the wooden altar. "You think you can go around and command me like this?! Tsk! Your kind should be burnt on a stake, not wed in a church to a holy man like me!" his fingers sink into my flesh, painfully. "You should be thankful that someone accepts you as you are, tainted and full of another's seed! Maybe a good beating will solve that-" his hand raises and he's ready to strike me, but I don't cower.

It had squiggles drawn all over it, barely spelling out the words, "grade-swap" I went home and stared at the talisman for a long time. Perhaps that witch from earlier had already discovered that I had been reborn. As for the talisman… I figured that there had to be a catch if anyone was using this talisman on me. But what could it possibly be? … That weekend, I went to the library and read as many books as I could, trying to find more clues about the talisman, but I wasn't able to find anything. The only clue I managed to discover was that cursed objects like these had to be on the cursed individual at all times.