Chapter 5: The Cursed Bloodline

Seeing the sun descending beyond the horizon, my stomach growls, an unusual case as I normally don’t get hungry ahead of time. However, I choose to not think about it too much as I quickly put away my blanket and go downstairs for dinner. And as I appear outside the dining room’s door, my mother and sister, who have already prepared our meal for the day, welcome me with the same expression of relief and surprise:

“Peter, thank goodness! Are you hurt anywhere?” My mother, Diana, is the first to ask.

“I’m fine, Mother.” I scratch my head in embarrassment. “It’s nothing too big.”

“I almost had a heart attack when I saw Pedro carrying you back unconscious! What do you mean ‘it’s nothing too big?” Mother shouted, worried and angered at me.

“It’s probably just a bad cold from the wind. I’m really fine, Mother.” I answer, still trying to make things less serious than it seems. The last thing I want right now is for Mother to flip out again. And it looks like Sister has the same idea, as she just makes the table and calls for us instead of joining in on the conversation:

“Dinner’s ready! Mother, Peter, let’s eat!”

 

“Hey, Mother… Can I ask you something?” I ask while gobbling down my bread and soup. I don’t really know what came over me, and I know the dining table isn’t the most suitable place to ask what’s on my mind, but for some reason, I do it anyway. Maybe it’s my curiosity getting the better of me, maybe it’s the Demon on my neck guiding me towards its path, but nevertheless, I keep on.

“What is it?” Mother, as expected, has an awkward and tense look on her face.

“Do you know about our ancestors?”

“Which one, dear?”

“I don’t know how long it is, but… was it true that there’s a King Arthur in our clan?”

Mother, to my surprise, continues eating her portion as if nothing happened. Did she not hear my question? Not likely, I was audible until just now. That means she’s ignoring me on purpose. Why? Does she know? Am I the only one who doesn’t? I have to know.

“Mother.” I attempt to ask again. However, before I can even start my question, she has already sounded in a calm, yet feared voice:

“Finish your meal, Peter. We’ll talk afterwards. On the attic.”

With nothing more to say, I have no choice but to finish the rest of my plate. As usual in our family, the first to finish is the one to do the dishes, and so I carry mine outside to the well. What surprises me, however, is the fact that my sister, who never assisted me with chores before, soon joins me afterwards.

“This is a rare sight,” I exclaim. “What’s gotten into you, Katherine?”

“Can’t I help my little brother once in a while?” A rare smile shows on her face, but her next words are the real reason why I suddenly have chills under my skin. “Besides, it’s not like I can do it again any time soon.”

After a pause, she then makes another completely out-of-ordinary proposal:

“You know what, just leave the dishes here. I’ll handle them. Go to the attic.”

As I take heavy steps towards the stairs, my head is spinning with a plethora of different questions. What is it that’s so important about me wanting to know about Arthur? Why is everyone treating me like they’re about to leave somewhere? What exactly is so special that Mother has to talk to me in private, in the attic of all places? I ask and ask myself, but I receive no answer until the attic appears within my sight before I can notice it.

The floor is covered in dust, so much that each step I take leaves a clear footprint on the floor. In the middle of the small space, Mother sits firmly. Before her is a large wooden chest that I’ve never seen before in my fourteen years of living in this house, and it shows by the slew of webbings on its exterior. With a sweep of her arm, the webs and dust are mostly cleared, leaving a plain chest with a golden lock in the center. As I discover the lock, only then do I realize on Mother’s neck is a small key, probably something she’s had for a long time considering the key’s rusted state. Removing the key from her necklace, Mother finally speaks to me:

“Peter. The matter I’m about to discuss with you is extremely important to all of us. You must promise me to never let anyone else knows about it, and… please don’t be angry at us.”

“… What do you mean, Mother?” I ask, but there’s no answer to my question. Instead, with a click of the key, the chest opens. From within, Mother takes out a dusty notebook, which doesn’t take a genius to see that it’s extremely old, considering its moldy, yellowish-brown pages have already nearly fallen off from the cover. Flipping to the first page, Mother points the content towards me and starts her explanation:

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“You’re right, Peter. Our first ancestor is King Arthur Pendragon, the great hero of England who defended our home from the Saxons invaders. As for the reason why we’re not a part of the Royal family… can you guess?”

“No.” I firmly shake my head. “I just thought that dynasties rising and falling is a natural rule.”

“… And what gives you that idea?”

Her question strikes me like lightning. Up until now, I’ve never realized it. We didn’t learn about any shift in kingdoms or dynasties in school, nor we were taught about the history of old. Then why does that idea appear in my head? Why do I treat it like a natural thing?

On the other hand, Mother continues her explanation. “The Pendragon clan suffers from a great curse. The curse of freedom.”

“What do you mean by that? Why is freedom a cursed thing?” I ask, further failing to comprehend her ideas.

“I don’t know if it’s the crosses mentioned in King Arthur’s notes…”

“You know about the notes?” I interrupted before she could finish, almost jumping out of my seat in the process. Contrary to my reaction, Mother still keeps her calm and shows me the other pages of the notebook she’s holding.

“It’s right here. See?” Pointing towards the second page, which has the exact same contents as Bea’s book, Mother says. For me, however, even more, questions arise from that little detail. If we have the original notes, then what exactly is that book? Why is it with Bea’s parents? As I keep asking in my head, the answers to another problem are shown to me:

“Anyway, for some reason, we of the Pendragon family are cursed with the knowledge of the old world… The world before the purge. Tempted by the call of freedom, ever since Arthur perished, his descendants – our forefathers – have been setting out on journeys time and time again, in hope of fulfilling Arthur’s old legacy and breaking us from our shackles. However, no one was able to even find Arthur’s old cross, let alone make use of its powers. This curse somehow affects the males in our family much stronger, that’s why your grandfather, and your father… all passed away when you were just a baby.”

“Wait… Father died because he went to look for the cross?” Another piece of information ruptures my mind. “But I thought…”

“I had to tell you that he died of disease. How could I tell a toddler about this?” Mother breaks down in tears as she is reminded about her past once more. However, it doesn’t stop her from continuing the story.

“No one was able to recover the cross, but… as soon as I saw that thing dangling on your neck when Pedro brought you home, I already feared for the worst.”

“But… There’s one thing I don’t understand.” I ask. “Why are we calling it a curse? I don’t see anything wrong with wanting to set out.”

“Then, let me ask you. Do you want to set out?” Mother asks me back with a dead serious gaze, enough to choke me from pressure had it been just a normal conversation. However, in this case, her words are like the final piece of the puzzle that is my mind, and suddenly, I’ve never felt clearer in my life.

“I… I think I do.” I answer, stuttering, yet determined. I don’t really get it, but that Demon was right all along. I had no reason to refuse it earlier in my dream, for I already have the desire to soar free into the world’s sky. I just needed something to confirm it, and this is the one that helps me reaffirm my conviction.

“And that’s why I said it was a curse.” Mother lets out a sigh since she knows I cannot be stopped anymore. “I only wish you safety on your journey, Peter. And please, return home alive and well once all of this is done.”

“… I promise.” I lightly nod, holding back the tears in my eyes. “I’ll leave by midnight. I don’t want to involve anyone else.”

“Take care, dear.” Mother only says so much before leaving the attic. So, I guess I am just leaving like this. Katherine was right: that was the last time, well, the first as well, that she got to help me with chores. Letting out a sigh of regret, I return to my room.

“Now, what did that thing tell me again?” I mumble to myself as I lie in bed waiting for midnight. “To meet it again, hold the cross in my hand and imagine the place of our meeting…”

As I close my eyes, another wave of spinning headaches appears within the darkness, and when I come to, I was once again in that dreamscape from before, only this time I’m in the meadow right away instead of the woods. Before I can look around, however, Balam has already appeared behind me, this time in his human form, holding a wooden staff taller than even himself, on top is a large crystal ball attached. Lightly tapping the staff on my head from behind to gain attention, he lets out a charming, yet devilish smile:

“So? Have you decided, my King?”

“Oh, please,” I smirk at the question. “Isn’t it obvious, now that I’m here? Like my forefathers, I yearn for freedom, Balam. Let’s break out of these accursed chains God has imposed on humanity.”

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