The Legend Of The Cursed King

Chapter 5

As the hours passed, Maeve couldn't shake off her growing concern for Alareyn. The wound, caused by the cursed silver blade and tainted with wolfsbane, showed no signs of healing. In her experience with tending to other wolves in similar situations, she had always witnessed some level of improvement after cleaning and disinfecting the wounds. But with Alareyn, there was no visible progress, and it worried her deeply.

Despite her anxiety, Maeve knew she had to remain strong and composed. She didn't want to burden him with her fears or make him think he was going to die. Instead, she focused on tending to his needs with unwavering determination.

With practiced care, she cleaned the wound again, her hands steady even as her heart raced. She applied soothing salves and bandaged it carefully with the first aid equipment present in the cave, hoping that it would at least prevent further infection. But as the minutes turned into hours, the nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong refused to leave her.

As the day wore on, Maeve found herself in deep contemplation, searching her memory for any hint or clue that could explain the lack of progress. She knew that breaking the curse was the key to his recovery, but she also knew that it wouldn't be an easy task. The curse was steeped in ancient magic, and its effects were formidable.

Determined not to give in to despair, Maeve resolved to find a way to help him. She recalled the stories of powerful witches and their knowledge of ancient spells and remedies. Perhaps there was a hidden solution, a secret buried within the lore of her kind.

As night fell, the cave seemed to envelop them in an even deeper darkness. The fire pit's embers cast dancing shadows, mirroring the turmoil in Maeve's mind. She refused to succumb to hopelessness, knowing that she held a glimmer of hope in her hands—the possibility of breaking the curse that held Alareyn captive.

She looked over at Alareyn, his features softened in slumber. He had become more than just a figure from a story. He was a man in need of salvation, and she had willingly stepped into his life with the determination to make a difference. Maeve vowed that she would not rest until she had done everything in her power to help him.

“What should we do? It’s getting worse.” Maeve asked Alaeryn. She didn’t want him to worry but she didn’t know what else to do. Maybe he knew something that could help. In that moment she wished she had magic powers, maybe then she could’ve helped him. Maeve had often been belittled by the members of her tavern for lacking magic powers and while it saddened her she had tried not to let it get to her. She always thought that there must’ve been a reason. But at that moment, alone in the cave she desperately wished for powers. She didn’t want Alaeryn, the only person who hadn’t cared that she was a magic-less witch to die.

It was possible that he was only being nice to her because he was injured and she was the only one who could help him but she didn’t care. At least he was being kind and that was enough.

“I don’t think there is anything we can do.” He replied, sounding like he had already given hope.

“I’m sure there’s something we can do.” Maeve wasn’t sure if she believed herself.

She gently began cleaning his wounds, and tried to recall everything she had ever read about wolves. It wasn’t much, there weren’t a lot of books at the library about wolves. Maeve’s clan wasn’t very fond of wolves and there weren’t many packs around the Wayri Clan. There were only four books on werewolves, and they were in Alice’s study. Maeve had never dared to read them.

The only reason she had ever seen a wolf was because a few years ago three wolves had accidently crossed into the clan's land, they had been brutally punished for it and then left for the dead. Maeve couldn’t let them rot for something that was an accident, she had helped them in secret and they had told her about what to do. The clan had whipped them with silver whips that had been dipped in wolfsbane. They told her the wounds needed to be disinfected with jei water and then covered with bandages.

Jei was a type of flower that healed almost any injury, and only Alice’s was allowed to grow it. Maeve had stolen it and had looked after the wolves. They healed in less than 12 hours and left, thanking her and told her that they were forever in debt to her. Somehow Alice found out and demanded that her house be scanned for jei water. The night before they were supposed to search her house she hid it in the house in the mountains. It wasn’t until she went there for a month that she remembered it. She had brought it along with her when she returned to the clan. She had disinfected his wound with jei water, yet there was no difference. Maybe the jei water was better if it had been freshly made. Since the clan lived here before, there had to be a jei plant somewhere on this mountain.

When she looked at Alareyn, and his eyes were shut with pain, she knew she would go out to look for it.