There are those that are so malevolent that, upon defeat, explode in a fiery burst of sulfurous flames, burning everything they touch as they die. Others dissolve like morning mist in the brightness of the midday sun. Some cannot be defeated at all, but feed upon the energy spent trying to vanquish it, growing more and more potent with each failed attempt. And then there are those ancient curses with deceptively simple antidotes that shatter like jagged shards of a vast mirror. These curses may be broken, but never completely destroyed, sharp slivers of light distorted. “What would you like me to bring back for you, my pet?" My father had asked gaily before he made his journey. “Gowns, baubles, perhaps new shoes?" Outside the window, autumn leaves drifted in a shower of scarlet and gold. Soon the snow would cover everything in eternal white. “I would like a rose.” “What, my dear?”
