How to Break a Curse in 10 Easy Steps

I’ve always prided myself on being a careful witch. Magic is delicate work—one wrong word, one wrong ingredient, and things can go sideways in an instant. So when a stranger walked into Everhart Remedies one rainy afternoon, I wasn’t expecting this. The doorbell jingled, and I looked up from the potion I was brewing. A man stood there, all sharp angles in a suit that looked too stiff for someone in my shop. He had a scowl plastered on his face, his dark hair slightly mussed from the rain, and his eyes—well, let's just say I could feel them drilling into me even from across the room. “I need something for a headache,” he said, his voice clipped. “And I need it now.” I blinked, caught off guard by his urgency. “Well, I’m not a fast food joint, but I can help.” I gestured toward the counter, trying to keep my cool. “Everything here is custom-made. You’re not going to get a ‘quick fix,’ but it’ll work.” He didn’t seem impressed, but he was obviously desperate, so I got to work. I reached for my lavender jar and a few other herbs that would help ease the headache. As I was preparing the mixture, I tried to focus, but my attention was divided. There was something about him—his stiff posture, his impatient tapping of the foot—that was grating on my nerves. I muttered the incantation under my breath, not fully paying attention to the words. Big mistake. The instant I finished, I felt it—the magic slipped, like a wave pulling away from the shore. Something had gone wrong. I glanced up. The man was staring at me now, his face pale, his eyes wide. "What did you—?" he started to ask. I froze. Did I say the wrong words? My heart dropped. He wasn’t supposed to be able to feel the magic. And then—he spoke. “I... I’m not a fan of pineapple on pizza.” I blinked. What? “I mean, I guess I’ve always hated it. I only eat it because my ex loved it.” He seemed utterly baffled, like he didn’t know why he was sharing this with me. The words tumbled out, and I could see the realization hit him. He looked down at his hands as if wondering why the hell he was saying it. His mouth opened again, but this time, it wasn’t random nonsense. “I never should’ve agreed to that. But, well, she liked it.” And that’s when I understood. The curse. I’d accidentally cursed him. I glanced around the shop, panic rising in my chest. What do I do now? “I think… I think I made you tell the truth,” I stammered, more to myself than him. He frowned, clearly not understanding what was happening. “What are you talking about?” I rubbed my temples, trying to think of a way to fix this. I’m not supposed to curse people. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I tried to keep my composure, but panic was bubbling up inside me. I’ve dealt with spells gone wrong before, but this? This was different. I had accidentally cursed him—no warning, no plan. The curse itself was simple enough: tell the truth, no matter what. But this wasn’t supposed to happen to a random stranger. Lucien was still standing there, staring at me with confusion in his eyes. “What do you mean, curse? I don’t... I don’t even believe in magic,” he said, crossing his arms as if trying to distance himself from the situation. I took a deep breath. “Yeah, well, magic believes in you, apparently. I—uh, I accidentally put a truth curse on you.” He blinked at me, clearly not buying it. “A truth curse?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t have time for—” But then, he stopped. His eyes widened, and for a split second, he seemed to freeze. Then, before I could say anything else, he spoke again. “I hate my job. I’m just doing it because my parents expect me to. I wanted to be an artist, but they wouldn’t let me.” I blinked. What? Lucien looked down at his shoes, clearly horrified by what just came out of his mouth. “Okay, this is insane,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Why am I telling you this? This is ridiculous.” “Because you can’t lie,” I said, trying not to sound too smug. “And now you’re stuck with that. So, here’s the deal: you can’t tell any more lies until I can fix this.” His face twisted with disbelief, and he stepped back, glaring at me. “I don’t have time for you—your witchcraft, okay? I don’t know what kind of joke this is, but I’m leaving.” I stepped in front of him before he could turn around. “You can’t leave. You’re cursed.” I wasn’t sure how to explain this any better, but there was no denying it. His words weren’t just spilling out; he couldn’t stop them. “Look, I can fix this. I just need time. You’ll be fine in a few days. But for now, just... stay with me and let’s figure this out, okay?” He glared at me for a long moment, as if weighing whether to believe me or not. He finally sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Fine. But this is temporary. I don’t know how you plan to ‘fix’ this, but I need it done fast. I don’t need my personal life spilling out to strangers.” I nodded, trying to suppress the nervous energy that was making my fingers twitch. “Okay, well, the first step is just... waiting. We need to figure out how to reverse it. I’ll make some calls, do some research, but you’re gonna have to deal with this in the meantime. Just... don’t say anything you’ll regret.” He raised an eyebrow. “Like what?” I bit my lip. “Like that your last relationship ended because you’re terrible at communicating. Or that you secretly cry when you listen to romantic comedies.” His eyes went wide, and he cursed under his breath. “You’re really doing this.” I nodded. “Yep. And trust me, I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back to normal. But for now, I guess we’re stuck together.” Lucien let out a long, exasperated sigh, as if the world had conspired against him in this very moment. He ran his hand through his hair again, clearly still in disbelief. “This is insane. How am I supposed to go to work like this? I can’t even—” “Sorry, but you kind of can’t lie,” I interrupted, trying to make light of it. “You’ll be fine. Besides, it’s only temporary.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “That’s what you think. You’re saying I can’t even tell my boss I’m busy?” “Well, no,” I said with a small, sheepish grin. “But I mean... I’m sure your boss will be a little more understanding if you tell him that you’re in a personal crisis.” I gave him a pointed look. “And I’m betting that’s true.” Lucien shot me an incredulous look. “Are you serious? You want me to confess I’m ‘in crisis’ to my boss?” “Not necessarily confess, but maybe let him know that you’re struggling,” I said. “It’s kind of hard to keep up appearances when you’re... well, cursed.” “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “I’m cursed to spill my entire soul to a stranger.” I smiled wryly. “Hey, I don’t mind listening. You know, it’s not the worst thing that could happen.” He snorted. “Says the witch who caused this mess.” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Fair point. But I did say I’d fix it. I’m just... still figuring it out.” For a moment, we stood there in awkward silence. Then, Lucien’s gaze softened ever so slightly, though his expression was still hard. “I really don’t have time for this,” he said, though I could tell he wasn’t as angry anymore. “Well, lucky for you, time’s all we’ve got,” I quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He exhaled deeply. “I don’t know what kind of magic you’re pulling here, but I’m not buying into it.” He looked at me again, this time with a little more curiosity than before. “Just... fix it. And fast.” I nodded, feeling a little more confident. “You’re not the only one who wants this to end. Trust me, I’m just as eager to get you back to normal.” Lucien opened his mouth to say something else, but then paused. He let out a long sigh and muttered, “Fine. But don’t make me regret this.” “I’m not the one who cursed you,” I said with a grin. He shot me one last glare before turning to leave. “I’m not coming back here again,” he warned, though his voice was less sharp than before. “Sure,” I called after him, smiling to myself. “And I’m sure I’ll never hear about your secret fear of clowns again.” He froze in the doorway. “How do you—?” I raised an eyebrow, pleased with myself. “I didn’t say anything.” Lucien’s eyes widened. He didn’t say anything else but walked out the door with a grumbled curse under his breath. As the door clicked shut behind him, I leaned back against the counter, letting out a sigh of relief. That was a close call. But at least it was over for now. Or so I thought.