Protected: THE CURSE OF ALTVALL : CHAPTER 61 – 70

THE CURSE OF ALTVALL : CHAPTER 61 – 70

A low, mocking chuckle emanated from the Pot’s depths. “See him? I hear his laughter in my bones. His presence burns my essence like acid.”

Surgeons of spirit and flesh, those who consulted the Pot often spoke of its capricious temper, but never had it sounded so enraged. Surganah swallowed his irritation. “Where is he? Reveal his location.”

“Ha!” The Pot spat the sound like a curse. “You know I hate him. I can’t abide the thought of him ruling by my side.

There’s something about his aura—pure, terrible—that rends my will. How I wish he had never come here. But no one can destroy him.”

The words struck Surganah like iron claws. He pressed on, narrowing his eyes. “Then tell me what is to become of him,” he growled.

The Pot’s glow flickered once, twice, then flared into a blaze of spectral fire. “He will return—heavily fortified by powers you cannot fathom.

Those who took him made a terrible mistake. They think they have rid you of his threat, but this boy… he will destroy them. And he will destroy you.”

Silence settled like dust. Then, with a howl that shook the sanctum’s pillars, the Pot erupted: “Haaa! He will destroy me. Surganah—RUN! Run now, run, run!”

Surganah’s breath caught in his throat. He drew in a hushed, trembling breath—and then squared his shoulders. “Well,” he said evenly, “I don’t blame you.

You have allowed your soul and spirit to be filled with hatred toward my child.

He is only three years old. Though his powers grow, he is still young—still fragile.”

He circled the Pot, tracing the carved runes with a finger stained by his own blood. “Listen well, Oracle. I have devised a plan.

There is only one way to know if this child is truly mine—or Gaige’s. We will learn the truth when he turns fifteen. Until then, I will secure his fate.”

The Pot trembled, its once-fiery glow dimming to a sullen embers. “You may not live to see him turn fifteen,” it rasped. Its voice dropped into a mournful dirge. “Save us from Jeun—now.”

Surganah met the Pot’s empty, flickering gaze. He felt the cold hands of terror close around his heart for a fraction of a heartbeat—then burned them away with resolve. “I will have my answers,” he whispered. “And I will command the truth from life itself, if I must.”

THE CURSE OF ALTVALL : CHAPTER 61 – 70

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