A lack of strength didn’t mean you were weak. You didn’t need a strong body, sharp fangs, and clawed fingers to prove your strength; some only need a pretty smile, soft eyes, and sweet words.

Growing up, you’d been blessed with what your parents called the sight. Glimpses into the future and past that often came without explanation— just glazed over eyes, mumbled words, and shaky hands.

The gift had been in your family for generations, seemingly latched onto the women, but it skipped your mother and went straight to you. She often told you stories about your grandmother’s gift, though in reality, they just sounded like nightmares.

You were six years old when you had your first glimpse; your body collapsing to the ground as you played with your friends, convulsing and shaking as your eyes glazed over. You’d seen death— a plague that would descend upon your village and kill most of the young —and it terrified you.

Your parents called you blessed, the villagers called you a curse. When your glimpses came true, the villagers said it was your fault that their children died, but your mother consoled you with comforting words (it didn’t change how you felt).

As the years passed, those who called themselves sorcerers said you would be a good addition to their ranks, though you rejected them every time. Your parents had passed, yet the beliefs they left behind persisted. Some worshiped you as a God, others a priestess, but most avoided you.

And then he came.

The man with four arms, sharp fangs, and four eyes.

“King of Curses.”

The wild grin on his face says it all, though you’re not scared of him. You’d seen how you would die at the ripe age of ten, and you knew it wouldn’t be by his hand.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” Your voice is quiet, face shielded by a veil of white. Those who worshiped you believed keeping you pure and untainted; that covering your face was symbolic. You thought it was silly.

“They said you were a curse, yet all I smell is a mortal.” The words are spoken with condescension as he moves closer to you, his upper arms crossed over his chest.