The Red Curse, Volume 3

Author: Dettethor Pantenne

Red Eagle's voice, like velvet, pulled me toward the sarcophagus. He urged me to place the blade in the sarcophagus alongside his body. Like my Daedric benefactors, he whispered of power beyond belief, and filled my head with images of us ruling together as I had always imagined. The room continued to press inward, and I felt cushioned and buoyed along as I laid the blade carefully on the ground and grunted through the effort of removing the lid of Red Eagle's tomb.

I gazed down at the skeletal remains, the dank smell of the tomb wafting up to my nostrils was intoxicating. Here was the moment I had long dreamt of, and the voice of Red Eagle gently urging me on, which all came crashing down the moment I laid the blade in his grave.

My head was immediately wracked with a blinding pain, and I fell to the ground, my vision filled with a pulsing red light. I could hear, somewhere in the distance, the creaking skeleton of Red Eagle climbing from the grave. I saw visions of burning cities, my own flesh melting from the bone as I was consumed in flames. The voice of Red Eagle cackled, now in the room, and he circled behind, "foolish child," he scratched in his inhuman voice, "you are no kin of mine-".

In a rush I charged Red Eagle and managed to knock the blade from his hand, picking it up I charged from the room, his menacing laughter, turning to roars of anger. Somewhere in my rush to escape, more animal than man, I lost the blade, but must have brought it far enough to trigger some sort of mechanism, as I heard stone doors grinding shut behind me, and the pursuit of Red Eagle was cut off.

And that is why I now live in fear, locked away in my study, hoping to find some way to destroy the horror I have unleashed on the world. Though trapped, at any time, another man, foolish as myself may set him free, and I pity the world when that time comes. I fear for us all.

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