The Blessed and the Cursed

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Chapter Twelve: Merry End

After a good night’s sleep and the rest that she deserved. Sylvia got up in the morning to head to the town hall. Wes was already waiting for her at the front of the hall, and most of the villagers were already seated inside. Sylvia peaked in through the cracks of the big door. Her eyes widened at the number of people sitting in the pews. She was supposed to tell all of them her secret. What if some of them don’t accept her? What if they get scared of her? What if they decide to burn her at the stake?

“They won’t burn you at the stake.” Wes said.

“How’d you know that was what I was thinking?”

“Your face told me all.” Wes said. “I won’t let them take you.”

“But how do you know that they are going to accept me?” Sylvia asked. “What if they despise me?”

“Well, then there’s nothing we can do.” Wes said. “But I will never despise you.”

“Thank you, but that really doesn’t do much right now.”

“Okay, in you go.” Wes said as he slightly pushed her through the doors.

As soon as she was seen inside the chief called her up. He asked her to explain everything, and so she did. She started with the story of the Lycanthropes and the Werewolves. How the werewolves are cursed and the Lycanthropes are blessed. Then she told them about her powers, how she was a bit different from the rest of the lycanthropes and why the werewolves needed her. There were some gasps and mutters from the crowd, but Sylvia stood her ground. With a deep breath, she continued her story. She then proceeded to tell them about the werewolf attack, how Roland and his partner attacked her. Her eyes searched for Gwen, but she sat with her head down, not looking up at all. Sylvia focused on the story instead. She told them how they then met the witch Morgana, and how she betrayed them. By the time she was done the hall was completely silent.

“I know that some of you may think I am a monster.” Sylvia said. “But...but this is who I am and I will always be. I can’t and won’t change. I am proud of who I am and if any of you think otherwise, it is understandable.”

A clap erupted from the hall. Sylvia looked up to see none other than Wes. Soon another clap joined him, and another. Just in a couple of seconds, the whole village began clapping their hands.

“You’re not a monster.” Someone yelled from the crowd.

“We still love you.” another voice said.

“You saved us all.”

“You’re our hero.”

Sylvia was happy about the village accepting her that she didn’t notice the one standing beside her. After a couple minutes, she finally looked to her side to see Gwen. “Gwen.”

“Sylvia, I just wanted to say that I am terribly sorry for saying what I said.” Gwen said. “I should’ve believed you from the start.”

“It’s okay Gwen.” Sylvia said as she hugged Gwen. “I’m just glad you are here now.”

“Me too.” Gwen said returning the hug.

Sylvia looked over the cheering crowd and smiled sheepishly. All her worries flushed away by the crowd’s reaction. She was more than happy that they understood and that they were willing to accept her for who she is.

“Silence.” The chief said and everyone obeyed. “That was quite the story. You are not completely human and you have strange abilities. But you also saved this village, and that is something all of us are grateful for. We know why you kept your secret, judging by how we reacted the first time around. We welcome you again to our humble village.”

“Thank you so much.” Was all Sylvia could say in return.


Several days had passed since the battle, and things were just starting to get back to normal. The mess had mostly been cleared up. The bodies of the dead werewolves were burned on top of the hill. There were a lot of their bodies so some were thrown into a hole that they dugout. The festivities were also coming to an end. People’s injuries healed and they started on their daily chores and jobs. Sylvia returned back to Gwen and Beatrice, they both opened their arms for her again. She had spent the days inside, hanging out with the two of them. It was a happy several days.

Sylvia looked out the window. The snow had almost melted and the sun shone brightly on top of it. The streets were filled with playing children, merchants stood by their carts filled with fruit, clothes, whatever they were selling. Some of the trees start growing their leaves, ready to spread out their lush green leaves for the summer. She hadn’t seen Wes at all these past few days. She knew that he was busy because of all the post-battle duties. There was also news that the king was getting better, maybe he went to visit him.

“I heard the count is back from his duties.” Beatrice said louder than she would usually speak.

“Yeah, he is helping out at the blacksmith’s shop.” Gwen said the same way her mother did.“If only someone could deliver this freshly baked bread to him.”

“Okay, I understand.” Sylvia said annoyed that they knew the contents of her heart. “Give me that stupid bread.”

She yanked the bread off the snickering Gwen and put on her shoes. She jumped down the steps of the house and made her way to the shop. She came across puddles of water due to the melted snow. She jumped over them as she saw them. She was about to turn into another street when she saw someone on top of the hill. She could recognize that man anywhere. She changed route and rushed towards the hill. This time she didn’t care to jump over puddles of water or the small piles of snow. She ran straight up the hill as fast as she could, reaching him instantly.

“Woah.” Wes jumped as he saw Sylvia right beside him. “You scared me.”

“What are you doing here?” She asked. “I heard you were at the Blacksmith.”

“Well, someone is keeping a close eye on me.” He said with his dumb grin.

His hand reached for Sylvias and she rested it on top of his. He laced his fingers in her other hand and looked down at her emerald green eyes. Sylvia looked up to him, confused at what was happening. Before she knew it, his face started moving closer to hers. Seconds before his lips crashed against hers she stuck her index finger in between.

“What was that for?” He whispered with a pout.

“Marry me first.” She said, meeting his eyes.

“Did you just ask me to marry you?” Wes asked with another grin.

“Yes,” she replied with a confident smile. “Count Weston, will you marry me?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice.” He said as he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up. Spinning with her on top of the hill. “Right now.” He asked in between her chuckles.

“No silly, I have to find a dress and shoes.” She said. “We have to tell the village, invite people.”

“I can’t wait that long.” He said setting her down.

“Yes, you can.” She said as she ran down the hill leaving him standing alone.

Sylvia had gone to every dress shop in the city and the village, but she had no luck in finding a dress. Some were too shiny, some too plain, there was no perfect wedding dress. The wedding was in a day and she had yet to find her dress. She hadn’t asked us for help because she wanted it to be a surprise for him. Now it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if there was no dress at all.

After another day of useless wandering in the marked Sylvia and Gwen returned home. They sat limply on the sofa, devastated by their ability to find a dress.

“Nothing again?” Beatrice asked the girls.

“Nope, it is like all the good dresses are gone from this world.” Sylvia complained. “I am going to wear nothing but rags at my wedding.”

“I don’t think so.” Beatrice said as she set a box in front of Sylvia.

“What is that?′ Gwen said trying to take a peek.

“Open it and find out.”

Sylvia opened the box expecting some sort of early wedding gift. she gasped at what she found instead. It was a beautiful wedding dress. She picked it up and let it unfurl. It was an A shape, just like she preferred her gowns. It had a white corset with a white skirt, on top of it were layers of blush net, making it look like a ball gown. There were bows at the bottom, giving it a layered effect. The sleeves were made out f the same blushed net.

“This is beautiful.” Sylvia said in disbelief. “Where did you get this?”

“Do you remember Lady Corleone?” she asked and Sylvia nodded. “Well, she and her toddlers decided to give you a present, as a sign of gratefulness for saving their village.”

“You lucky girl.” Gwen said to Sylvia.


It as a pleasant spring day, the snow had all melted away. Flowers had started to bloom, all bright and colorful. The day was breezy, as the villagers filled the town hall. Each of them dressed in their fancy gowns and shirts. Sylvia looked at them from her window.

“Sylvia, get back here.” Gwen yelled. “I told you that the corset is going to be tighter.”

“But I can’t breathe.” She whined.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s only for the ceremony, you can take it off after.” Gwen said. “Or should I say he can take it off after.”

“Gwenevieve!” Sylvia said as she threw a pillow at her.

“Okay, okay.” She said. “Come here, it is supposed to be tightened.”

“Fine.” Sylvia groaned as she turned her back towards Gwen.

After another two hours, Sylvia was finally ready. Her hair was flawlessly made, her gown was pressed and on her, she as ready to get married.

The word came in from a villager that they were ready for the bride. With that Sylvia was escorted to the hall by Beatrice. She had taken the role of her mother. Sylvia owed her life to the woman, she was sweet and amazing. She could be strict at times, but what mother wasn’t. She had done everything so that Sylvia could live happily.

When Sylvia entered the hall all eyes were on her, it reminded her of the very first day. When she had to come for the conclave. she had felt scared and alone at that time, and now she felt loved and at home. all these people were her people, they would do anything for her and she would do anything for them. She looked over the crowd and her eyes met Ulric’s. His confession was out of the blue and shocked her. But she was a lucky woman to have received his love. Even though she was unable to return his love as he wanted, she would give him all the love as his friend. Maybe one day he would find a girl that he could love more than her. After overlooking the crowd while she walked down the aisle, her eyes finally met his. He wore an all-white suit, from his stupid top hat to his shoes. It matched with his dark hair and eyes. He had his cheerful smile plastered on his face. the distance between them seemed like an eternity to Sylvia.

Finally, she had reached the platform, where she stood next to Weston after Beatrice had walked to the side. She held Weston’s hand as the wedding officiant talked. Sylvia’s mind was filled only with excitement, making her unable to listen to his words. The only part that she heard was when the Wedding officiant said. “You may kiss the bride.”

Wes smiled triumphantly as his hands cupped her jaw but before he could pull her close, she swiftly took his jaw in her hands and pressed her lips against his and the world fell away. It was slow and soft, passionate in ways that words could never be. When she pulled away he felt the urge to pull her back. Dear God, he couldn’t fight against the thoughts that were spiraling through his head.


The wedding party ended after sundown. Sylvia and Wes had managed to escape from all the people. Wes had grabbed her hand and ran down the streets of the village. Her laughter echoed through the silent night. They lurched through the door of his house and shut it behind them. Before a word could escape Sylvia’s mouth Weston’s lips came crashing down on hers. At first, it was rough and firm, but the kisses turned much softer as they traveled down to her neck. She felt warmth radiate from where he had kissed her on the neck. He pulled his head away and looked at her. Her forehead rested against his, their breaths were fast, and their heartbeats faster.

He slowly leaned down to her ear, and Sylvia’s breath hitched in her throat as his warm kiss planted on her ear. “How about we take that damn corset of yours off?” He whispered in her ear.

“Fine by me.” she smiled against his jaw.

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