The Cursed Heir

​Location: Kenwood, Sherrill, New York

​Beneath the collar of Behram’s shirt, the dark stone pendant grew warm against his skin.

​For a split second, a faint silver marking—shaped like the letter B—pulsed with a dim, phantom light. Then, as quickly as it had awakened, the glow vanished into the stone, leaving behind only the cool bite of ancient rock.

​Upstairs in his bed, Behram didn’t feel it. He was far too busy groaning into his pillow.

​Below, the distinct sound of a spoon clinking against a ceramic bowl echoed up the stairwell.

​“Behram! If you don’t come down here in the next thirty seconds, I’m eating your breakfast!”

​Behram buried his face deeper into the mattress. “Granny Si! You know you won’t!”

​“Then come downstairs and find out!”

​That was all the motivation he needed. Footsteps thundered against the wooden staircase almost immediately.

​A moment later, Behram burst into the kitchen entrance, his dark hair messy and his shirt only half-tucked into his trousers. He looked half-asleep, but the second his eyes landed on the steaming bowl sitting on the dining table, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

​“Now that is what I’m talking about!” He made a beeline for the chair.

​Granny Seraz shook her head, though her warm brown eyes sparkled with affection. “Good morning to you, too.”

​“Good morning, Granny Si.” Behram leaned down, planting a quick, loud kiss on her wrinkled cheek before sliding into his seat.

​“See?” Granny Seraz folded her arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “That’s how you greet the woman who has been awake since five in the morning cooking for you.”

​“You know I love you.”

​“Hmm. You better.”

​Behram scooped up his spoon and dug in with zero restraint.

​“Slow down,” Granny Seraz warned, taking a seat across from him. “Nobody is fighting you for it.”

​“You made my favourite.”

​“Of course I did.”

​For a few quiet moments, the small kitchen was filled only with the comfortable clatter of silverware and the morning sun streaming through the window.

​This was their normal. Simple. Quiet. Peaceful.

​Granny Seraz watched him eat, her expression softening into a deep, tender warmth. She had watched this boy grow from a helpless infant who could barely hold his head up into the tall, handsome, and lively young man sitting before her today.

​He was twenty-one now.

​And despite everything she knew about his true nature—and the terrible secret tied to his birth—she had sacrificed everything to give him an ordinary childhood. A childhood he never truly had the right to expect.

​“Granny Si?”

​Her thoughts snapped back to the present. “Hmm? Yes?”

​“You’re staring at me again.”

​“Am I?”

​“Yes,” Behram smirked through a mouthful of food. “Is there something on my face, or are you just admiring your handsome grandson?”

​Granny Seraz let out a soft, melodic laugh. “My very handsome grandson.”

​“Okay, I’ll accept that compliment.”

​Behram chuckled and reached for his glass of water. As he lifted his arm, his fingers brushed against the thick chain beneath his collar, pulling the stone pendant slightly out into the open air.

​The smile on Granny Seraz’s face instantly died.

​The necklace.

​It hung quietly against his chest—an ancient piece of dark rock, far older than anything else in this house, or even this town. Strange, faded runes carved its surface, surrounding the prominent, distinct B at its centre.

​He had worn it every single day for as long as he could remember.

​Behram caught her gaze. “Granny?”

​“Yes?”

​“Why do you always stare at this necklace like it’s going to bite you?”

​Granny Seraz’s knuckles turned white as her hands tightened around the table’s edge. “I don’t.”

​“You do.”

​“No, I don’t.”

​“You’re literally doing it right now.”

​She snapped her head toward the window, looking anywhere but at his chest.

​Behram narrowed his eyes, his playful mood cooling down. “It’s just an old necklace, Granny.”

​“Yes.”

​“So why do you look like you’re seeing a ghost every time it slips out?”

​Granny Seraz took a slow, measured breath, trying to steady her fluttering heart. “Because it is important, Behram.”

​“You’ve told me that a million times.”

​“And I’ll tell you another million times if I have to.”

​“I’ve had it since I was a baby,” Behram said, touching the cool surface of the stone. “I’ve never taken it off once.”

​“And you must never take it off.”

​The sudden, chilling shift in her voice made Behram freeze. The warmth in her tone was completely gone, replaced by a severe, absolute authority.

​Behram set his spoon down. “Why?”

​“Because I said so.”

​“That isn’t an answer.”

​“It is the only answer you need.”

​“Granny…”

​“Behram.”

​Silence fell over the kitchen, heavy and suffocating.

​They locked eyes, and for the first time in his life, Behram saw something in his grandmother’s eyes that terrified him.

​It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t annoyance.

​It was pure, unadulterated fear.

​Behram’s chest tightened. His defensive posture softened instantly. “Okay,” he said quietly, tucking the pendant back beneath his shirt. “Okay. I won’t take it off.”

​Granny Seraz offered a faint, trembling smile. “Good.”

​Behram picked up his spoon again, but the food had lost its flavour. His mind raced. There had always been a dark cloud of mystery surrounding his life. Whenever he asked where the necklace came from, she dodged the question. Whenever he asked why it was so dangerous to remove, she grew dead serious.

​And whenever he asked about his parents…

​She shut down completely.

​He looked up at her again, his stomach twisting into knots. “Granny.”

​She met his gaze, and her shoulders tensed. She already knew what was coming. “What?”

​“Where are my parents?”

​The tiny smile evaporated from her lips. “Behram…”

​“You always do that,” he said, his voice rising slightly with long-suppressed frustration. “Every single time I bring them up, you look like you’re in pain.”

​Granny Seraz lowered her eyes, staring down at her worn hands. “I’ve told you before, son. It’s complicated.”

​“It’s been twenty-one years!” Behram leaned forward. “I don’t even know what they look like. I don’t know their names. I don’t know where they came from, or if they’re even still breathing!” His voice softened into a quiet, desperate whisper. “Why won’t you tell me anything?”

​Granny Seraz swallowed around the lump in her throat.

​Because I love you, she thought bitterly. Because the truth will tear down the peaceful life I’ve built for you, piece by piece.

​“You’ll know when the time is right,” she said softly.

​Behram scoffed, pulling back. “When is the right time? When I’m forty? When you’re gone?”

​“Don’t say that.”

​“Then give me something! I deserve to know where I came from!”

​“I know you do!”

​“Then why hide it from me?!”

​Granny Seraz looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Because I love you, Behram.”

​Behram blinked, caught off guard by the raw pain in her voice. He let out a long, heavy breath, rubbing his forehead. “That doesn’t make sense, Granny.”

​“It makes sense to me.”

​They stared at each other for a long moment before Behram sighed in defeat. “Fine.” He picked up his bowl and carried it to the sink. “But I’m not giving up.”

​A sad, tiny smile flickered on Granny Seraz’s lips. “I know you won’t.”

​“One of these days, I’m going to go out there and find them myself.”

​CLACK.

​The spoon in Granny Seraz’s hand slipped from her fingers, clattering loudly against her plate. She caught her breath, quickly grabbing the utensil before her hands could betray her trembling.

​“You won’t,” she whispered.

​Behram turned around, resting his hands on the counter. “How can you be so sure?”

​“Because…” She stopped herself, clearing her throat. “Because I know you.”

​Behram looked at her for a long moment, the tension slowly draining out of him, replaced by his usual affectionate warmth. “You’re weird, Granny Si.”

​“And you’re stubborn.”

​“Your stubborn grandson.”

​“My very stubborn grandson.”

​They both shared a small, quiet laugh, letting the shadow pass over them once more.

​Neither of them noticed the dark stone pendant resting beneath Behram’s shirt. Neither of them saw the silver B rune flare with a sudden, sharp surge of light—a pulse that lasted only a fraction of a second before fading into darkness once more.

​Later that morning, Behram stood on the front porch, adjusting the straps of his heavy backpack.

​Granny Seraz leaned against the doorframe, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched him.

​“Be careful on the hill,” she called out.

​“I will.”

​“Come straight home after your shift at the restaurant.”

​“I will, Granny.”

​“Do you have your lunch?”

​“It’s already in the bag.”

​“Your phone?”

​“In my pocket.”

​“Your wallet?”

​Behram paused, turning around with an amused grin. “Granny… you’ve asked me that three times already.”

​“And I’ll ask a fourth time if I want to.”

​Behram laughed, stepping back up the porch stairs to pull her into a tight, lingering hug. “See you tonight.”

​Granny Seraz held onto him just a little tighter than usual, burying her face in his shoulder. “See you tonight, son.”

​Behram pulled away with a bright smile. “Love you.”

​“Love you too.”

​He turned and began his walk down the quiet, tree-lined asphalt road. Granny Seraz stood at the doorway, her gaze fixed on his back until he rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

​The moment he was gone, the warmth drained entirely from her face.

​She pressed a trembling hand against her heart, her breathing shallow. “He doesn’t have much time left…”

​A haunting voice from twenty-one years ago echoed in the back of her mind, clear as a bell:

​Protect him. Whatever happens, keep him safe.

​Granny Seraz closed her eyes tight against the memory. “I’ve kept my promise,” she whispered into the empty morning air. “I’ve given him peace. But how much longer can I shield him from what’s coming?”

​WHOOSH.

​A sudden, unnatural gust of wind swept through the yard.

​The old woman shivered, snapping her eyes open. She looked around. The surrounding trees were completely still—not a single branch rustled. Yet the cold wind had been real.

​Then her eyes drifted down to the wooden floorboards of the porch.

​A single, withered dead leaf lay at her feet.

​Granny Seraz froze. There were no oak or maple trees close enough to the house for a leaf to have fallen here.

​Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Slowly, agonizingly, she crouched down and extended a trembling finger toward the leaf.

​The instant her skin brushed it, the leaf dissolved into a pile of pitch-black ashes.

​Granny’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened in absolute horror.

​“No…”

​She scrambled to her feet, whirling around to stare down the empty road where Behram had walked just minutes ago.

​“It’s starting.”

​And miles away, under the bright, innocent rays of the morning sun, Behram kept walking—completely oblivious to the fact that the fragile peace of his life had just shattered into pieces.