Frida had unwillingly inherited the unenviable role of bad news breaker but had no intention of doing it alone. On a particularly unpleasant midmorning, she sat with Fergus to her left and Merida to her right, the three of them staring solemnly at a pale-faced Nina after breaking the news to her.

"This cannot be true," Nina said, grey eyes roaming over the empty table surface as if searching for hidden answers within the swirls of its wood grain, "Lucius sent me word two days ago! He says he will be on his way to Earth in a matter of months!"

Fergus hummed lowly, almost as if in agreement with her, but the words that followed were a direct contrast, "Did the prince send you a letter through the portal? Nothing nonliving can pass through."

"I know that! I never said it was a letter now did I? He had Wisten meet me to pass the message."

"And what if he has no intention but to delay meeting you for as long as he can? What non-verbal proof do you have that he has made a promise to marry you?"

Nina stared blankly at him.

This time it was Merida who spoke, her whispery voice carrying a hint of sympathy, "Nina, it all seems...well, he has been delaying your meeting for many months already, always with some excuse or another. It seems a suspicious thing to do." She stretched her bony hands out to cover Nina's trembling ones. "And truthfully, there is no reason for Gloria to lie to Frida. Lucius is already married and has a child."

Frida watched in silence as Nina's large grey eyes remained fixated on a spot on the table, tears slowly pooling before free-flowing down her cheeks to patter on the wood, staining it darker. Watching the young witch's heart crumble was too much for Frida who crossed over and hurriedly pulled her into a fierce hug. Nina's sobs turned to wails when the reality finally sunk in, that her prince charming was no different than all the other pretentious idiots who approached her, hoping to use her for private gains. The only difference was, this time she was made the biggest fool.

***

"Have you finally come to your senses, Frida?" Boden stood once more outside the family home, a barely contained smirk of victory playing on his lips.

Crossing stout arms over a broad chest, Frida solemnly replied, "Wipe that smile of ya face, Boden. I am not accepting the Committee's offer."

Initially shocked, but then bristling with indignance, the pale man demanded, "If so, why do you waste my time?"

"It has to do with Nina. And I need you to be calm." Immediately, the thin man stilled, all colour draining from his already pallid face. Frida really hated being the messenger of bad news. Seeing his lips already parting, she quickly held up a hand to silence Boden, "Before you say anything, let me explain what happened."

The door to the cabin was habitually open, allowing the indiscernible mutterings of the two witches to carry over to the bed within, where Merida lay next to Nina, their hands clasped together in gentle comfort. Nina had her eyes closed, but Merida could tell from the stiffness of her shoulders that she was awake. Merida peered over the young witch's form and into the open doorway, watching her sister and Boden.

"She did what?!" Nina's body tensed as Boden's voice rose several octaves higher. Frida shushed him, bringing their voices down once again to unintelligible murmurs. After nearly an hour, came the sounds of footsteps climbing the wooden steps.

Nina was facing inwards, but Merida could see Boden approaching. Surprisingly, he showed no anger. Instead, the man seemed to be genuinely concerned. The bed dipped as he lowered himself on the edge.

"Nina," he called with utmost gentleness.

Nina, eyes still tightly shut, remained facing away, "I made a mistake." A bare whisper, filled with shame.

"We all do at some point in our lives, especially where love is concerned." Merida could not be certain, but judging from the sadness and pity on his face, Boden was talking from experience. She could not help thinking, with a twinge of guilt, that his memories must be quite interesting.

"If you so wish, you may stay here awhile. I will go to the Committee and tell them that you were tricked by the vampire prince into bestowing him with your powers. They will be angered, but I will certainly ensure the blame is placed where it rightfully belongs."

Nina said nothing, but the palms of Merida's hands were held in a grip so tight they bloodlessly ached.

***

"Are you sure this is a good idea, sister?" Merida looked on as Frida packed her belongings into a leather sling bag.

Frida sighed deeply but continued packing, "Perhaps not."

Merida frowned darkly, "Then why have you agreed to curse the vampire prince?"

Her sister was silent for so long, Merida assumed she would not be getting a reply. "Nina needs to let go of her hatred, lest it devours her soul," Frida finally answered, "If cursing the prince is the quickest way to heal from her heartbreak, then so be it."

Merida reached into a bowl full of stones and picked one, cupping it in her hand for a moment as she used her Talent, before handing it to Frida, "If she is willing, I wish to view the prince's actions myself. For him to fool someone like Nina, his performance must have been impressive."

Angry footsteps made their way up the stairs of the cabin before Nina burst in. Not bothered with pleasantries, she curtly said to Frida, "Are you done?"

The red-haired siblings shared a look before Frida lifted her bag and made her way over to Nina. They left in silence, heading towards Onirique. Nina led the way with Midnight, while Frida followed on another steed brought by Nina.

With the city silhouette in the distance, Nina abruptly headed down a side road, towards a farmhouse. As they neared, Frida heard squeals, snorts and grunts before realising they were nearing a pig farm.

"Nina, these pigs..." Frida guessed the other witch probably had not paid for the sacrificial animals.

"The man who owns them was a school bully who made my life a misery. Treat what happens to his pigs as the retributive consequences of his childhood actions."

They dismounted at the edge of the property before walking towards the pig pens on foot. The redhead passed Merida's stone to Nina, who pricked her finger and added a drop of blood to it before handing the stone back. Next, Frida removed a piece of parchment paper from her bag, handing it over to Nina. "Read it."

Nina read aloud, "I place a curse upon the vampire Lucius Bloodreign, that for the next six months, he will never walk in the sun without suffering an excruciating headache."

"You need to say the words exactly as I have written," Frida began rummaging through her bag for a knife, "or else the curse may not work to the desired effect." She looked up to find Nina gazing distractedly at the farmhouse ahead. Frida snapped, "Nina, are ya listening?"

The young witch gave a perfunctory nod, but Frida was certain she had not heard a word. "Nina, listen carefully. You need to say what I have written down word for word. Do you understand?" Once again, Nina nodded.

Frida sighed but decided to push on, "Alright, let us begin." She focused on the sacrificial animals in their pens, grazing in tranquility and oblivious of their impending death. She simultaneously drew on her Dark Talent at the very same moment she absorbed the life force of the animals. Knife in hand, she pricked first her finger and then Nina's before clasping their hands together.

"Now say the words," Frida ordered, her eyes glued to the pigs as they began keeling over one by one, missing the change in Nina's complexion as the witch stared at the letter in her hand.

What was six months of suffering to a vampire with a lifespan of two thousand years? How could the inconvenience of avoiding the sun for a mere blink in time compare to a lifetime of betrayal and heartbreak? Nina decided the punishment was not befitting of the crime.

Not only had Lucius benefitted, but the entire vampire race had also gained by virtue of Nina's decision to share her powers. Then, was it not fair that every single vampire suffered the consequence of having a lying cheat of a leader?! Should not their pain equal her burning humiliation?! Let them blame Lucius for their suffering! And let them dethrone him for another royal who had no need for lies and deceit to hold on to power, a prince more deserving of the throne!

The paper in Nina's hand shook to the trembling of her hands while her large grey eyes fluttered closed, no longer focused on the words written on the parchment. Instead, the witch said exactly what she felt was due to Lucius and his people, "I place a curse upon the vampire Lucius Bloodreign, that he and every vampire that exists, will never again step under the sun's direct rays, for if they do, their suffering will be no different from being set aflame!"

"NO!!"

Frida's panicked scream echoed throughout the farm as the curse was dealt. She frantically tried to bring it to a halt but it was just too late. Suddenly it felt as if the space around her was turned into a vacuum, forcing ragged gasps from her lips as she struggled to draw air into her lungs. The pigs were all dead, but Nina's revised curse targeted not just the prince, but the entire vampire population, requiring multitudes more power.

Like a rider on a spooked horse, galloping wildly out of control, Frida could do nothing other than to watch as the life force ahead of her was sucked dry; spreading from the pig pens to the farmhouse, and then onwards to Onirique. She could do nothing but sob hysterically as the life force of most of the city was drained away.

Never before had she performed a curse so elaborate and of such proportions. When it was finally over, she collapsed on the ground, unconscious, breaths coming in shallow and fast. Still rooted in place, Nina knew the moment Frida screamed something had gone horribly wrong. Kneeling next to Frida, she called out to her but the redhead was as still and white as a corpse.

Breaking into a full panic, Nina rushed towards the farmhouse, but the sight that greeted her in the kitchen made her blood run cold. Four members of a family, all seated at the table for a meal, their bodies slumped forwards, eyes open. One of them, likely the matriarch of the family, had her face buried in her bowl of soup.

Nina fled, now knowing exactly what had gone wrong. She ran back to the unconscious witch, grabbing her by the shoulders and roughly shaking her even as hysterical tears ran down Nina's cheeks and sobs escaped her lips in painful bursts. Try as she might, she failed at waking Frida. The only choice left was to bundle the woman on her horse before hurrying back to the forest.