The dust particles seem to gather in your windpipe, making it exceptionally hard to breathe as you wipe the covered engraving on the plaque resting by the statue’s feet. You aren’t sure how many days you’ve been lost in the forest, but perhaps this could point you in the right direction. A statue of a man, it seems, or perhaps a monster—one with four arms and two faces, though his features are overgrown by moss and there are plenty of cracks in the stone he’s made of.

A crown of flowers and thorns sits atop his head, as if to mark him a King. He’s slumped in a laying down position, his back propped up against the bark of a tree. He looks scarily human—almost to the point of being alive. You can’t seem to remove the thick layers of nature from the plaque, so instead, you scan the rest of the statue for identifying features—perhaps a sign pointing you in the right direction.

You clean him up a little, taking a moment to stare into the statue’s grey eyes after you’re sure you saw him move—before returning to your task. It’s only upon removing his crown, that you learn what’s in front of you is not a statue at all. No, it’s a dormant curse. You let out a screeching yelp, falling backwards as the stone man blinks, and his concrete casing starts to fall from his body, revealing human skin marked with black lines that are almost reminiscent of tattoos.

He stretches and grumbles a little, eventually standing up and shaking away the last of the dust, before staring down at you with a blank, almost amused expression. He’s gathered by now that you certainly hadn’t meant to wake him up. “It’s not polite to scream down someone’s ear just after they wake up, you know?” He says, almost teasing you. His voice is gruff and deep.