Alka watched Aunt Macy leading the way and the Priest who had already walked into the great stone entrance.
As this question ford in his mind, he began to ponder.
Racking his brains, he couldn’t figure out how they knew.
His wariness from having just arrived in the Otherworld, coupled with his tenuous sense of security, made him instinctively assu the worst. His pace slowed, and he fell behind his aunt.
Should I just ask them directly? Logically, anyone would wonder about it, right? Alka mused.
Before he could voice his question, they had already reached the interior of the great stone.
Stepping through the entrance, they found the interior unexpectedly spacious.
Alka glanced around. There were clear signs of artificial excavation. Comparing the interior space to the massive stone’s exterior dinsions, it seed the entire center of the great stone had been hollowed out. Patterns were carved into the upper stone walls, though they were partially obscured by torches and other objects, making them difficult to see clearly.
The carvings were sowhat crude, giving the place a mythological ambiance.
A small, head-sized hole had been bored through the top of the great stone.
Sunlight stread through this opening, piercing the gloom of the stone chamber and, along with the surrounding torches, illuminating the interior.
By this dim light, Alka could examine his surroundings.
About a ter from the floor, a series of continuous, circular grooves had been carved into the walls.
These were stacked layer upon layer, rising to a height of about three to four ters.
Alka counted; there were about nine layers in total. Each groove held a stone of a different shape.
The only commonality among the stones was their material; they all appeared to be identical, with virtually no impurities visible.
Only then did Alka see the true stone sculpture.
In the center of the space stood a stone sculpture, about three ters high, crafted from the sa material as the great stone itself.
The statue depicted a faceless woman with long, flowing hair. She held an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, and on her head rested a circlet resembling a wreath of wheat.
At her side, a small child, only a few years old, clutched at the hem of her garnt.
He gazed at the statue.
Though clearly rough and lacking fine facial details, the sculptor’s hands had managed to imbue it with a touch of maternal tenderness.
It exuded a peculiar spiritual charm.
Aunt Macy stopped about three to four ters from the statue, and Alka, who was following, also halted imdiately.
The Priest, still cradling the mother’s bones, approached the statue.
First, he raised the bag of bones slightly.
Then, with a solemn and reverent air, he slowly crouched and gently placed the bag on the ground.
The clinking of bones echoed in the silent chamber.
He opened the bag, reached inside, and carefully removed the bones one by one, arranging them in a pile before the statue.
Alka and Aunt Macy watched in silence, waiting patiently.
Seeing his aunt stand mutely, Alka too waited quietly by her side.
Finally, the Priest took out the skull and placed it atop the pile of bones.
"Do not interrupt ," the Priest’s mature, slightly hoarse voice sounded.
He stood upright, crossed his hands over his shoulders, and bowed his head slightly.
Sunlight stread in from the opening above.
Is it my imagination, or has the sunlight grown more brilliant? Alka wondered.
The statue, the Priest, and the mother’s remains were all bathed in the light.
The scene suddenly took on an air of sanctity.
Then, the Priest’s voice suddenly rang out.
"A blade pierced her from behind, its bloodied tip erging from her chest."
"Disbelief. Betrayal. Remorse."
"Silent darkness."
"The bond of blood, the final instinct."
Hearing the first sentence, Alka couldn’t help but frown; it perfectly described the wounds on his mother’s body.
The second part... her emotions at the ti? Betrayal.
The third must be what she felt after death.
But the fourth part... I have no idea what that ans.
The Priest’s voice ceased, and silence returned to the chamber.
That was all the information I could glean for now.
Just then, the Priest’s eyes snapped open.
He turned his head, his gaze fixing intently on Alka.
I’m sure I saw it correctly, Alka thought. The Priest’s eyes just shifted from that eerie green back to their normal color.
"Did your mother’s spirit dissipate last night?" the Priest asked. "Did you see her one last ti?"
"Her remains are tainted by a Curse, but her death had nothing to do with it."
Aunt Macy, who was standing nearby, also turned to look sharply at Alka.
"Little Alka, what did you experience last night?"
Seeing their expressions, Alka’s mind raced. He opened his mouth, quickly forming his words.
"I... I’m not sure if it was due to the excitent or exhaustion from treasure hunting last night," he began, "but my mother’s... her remains... they stood up and reached out to ."
As he spoke, Alka fumbled in his bosom and produced a Silver Snake coin. There was a distinct gash on the snake’s head emblem.
"Then, this Silver Coin flew from my hand into my mother’s palm. After that... she just crumbled to dust.
I thought it was a hallucination, that maybe I’d thrown the coin in my panic."
Hearing this, the Priest took two steps forward and extended his hand. "Let see that Silver Coin. Where did you get it?"
Alka handed the Silver Coin to the Priest.
The Priest took the coin, his eyes narrowing as he examined it closely. He even sniffed it carefully.
"There is indeed a Curse on this, but the scent is very faint," he said, turning to stare at Alka. "Where did this Silver Snake co from?"
When he repeated the question, both the Priest and Aunt Macy looked montarily stunned.
It seed they had both realized sothing.
"The treasure you found first?" they asked in unison.
So ti ago, after Alka found a Silver Coin, he had boasted about it all over the island.
The island wasn’t large, and everyone knew each other, most for generations. Unless soone was completely out of touch, they would have heard sothing about it.
Seeing they had both guessed, Alka nodded.
"Yes, that’s the one."
After a pause, he continued, "When I found that Silver Coin, there was an inscription on the box."
"What did it say?" the Priest pressed.
"It said I had to return the Silver Coin within seven days, or I would face a Curse."
I’ll just edit that part a little, Alka thought, changing ’certain death’ to ’face a Curse.’
He continued aloud, "On the seventh day after I found it, I fell gravely ill. That’s when I got scared and started desperately searching for the treasure’s origin so I could return this Silver Coin."
Hearing this, Aunt Macy stepped forward and hugged Alka’s head. "So that’s why you were sick those two days? Because of this Curse?" she chided gently. "Why didn’t you tell your aunt?"
"I was afraid you wouldn’t believe ," Alka mumbled. "After all, Curses... they sound like sothing out of a story."
Hearing Alka’s words, Aunt Macy couldn’t help but sigh.
The Priest tossed the Silver Coin back to Alka, who caught it deftly.
"You should thank your mother," the Priest said. "Her final spirit dispelled the Curse."
He then glanced at Aunt Macy and nodded.
Aunt Macy made a reverent gesture, crossing her hands, nodded in return, and then left the chamber.
Before she departed, she said to Alka, "Co to my house for dinner tonight. Siegert ntioned you’ll be leaving with a rchant ship."
Once Aunt Macy had left, the Priest fixed his gaze on Alka.
"Co here, Little Alka. Pray for your mother’s peace."
Alka walked over.
Gazing at the bones piled beneath the statue, he crossed his hands and bowed his head slightly.
The Priest’s voice sounded in his ears, "Calm your heart. Praise the Stone Mother within, and beseech Her to grant your kin peace in death.
The Stone Mother’s grace is in the heart, steadfast as a rock."
The Priest’s voice seed to possess a kind of magic power, effortlessly bringing an inexplicable calm to Alka’s heart.
He followed the guidance of that voice, praying to the Stone Mother in his heart.
The Stone Mother’s grace is in the heart, steadfast as a rock, he silently intoned.
Suddenly, all sound vanished from his ears, as if he were imrsed in a world of utter silence.
CRACK.
The sharp sound of a stone shattering suddenly echoed.
Alka’s eyes snapped open.
He no longer knew where he was.
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