Whispers in the Fog: Calla’s Cursed Inheritance

**Shadows of the Past: The Amulet's Whisper**

The amulet sat cold against Calla’s chest, its surface smooth save for the intricate carvings that seemed to writhe when she glanced at them too long. It had been her mother’s, buried deep in an old wooden chest under the floorboards. Calla hadn’t even known the chest existed until the argument with her father last week. The truth had slipped out in his frustration, and she had found it that same night, her curiosity outweighing any hesitation.

Professor Eldridge was not thrilled with her discovery. “You don’t just pick up cursed relics and think, ‘Oh, this will sort itself out,’ Calla. There’s a reason these things stay hidden.” His voice was sharp, but his eyes, always darting about like he was expecting danger, betrayed something close to worry.

“It’s not cursed,” Calla said stubbornly, though the way the amulet had started to whisper her name in the stillness of the night made her stomach churn. She didn’t tell him that part. Not yet.

They were sitting in the dusty archives of the university library, tucked away in a corner where no one would bother them. Old books and maps were scattered across the table, all pointing to one thing: the amulet had history. A dark one.

Eldridge pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s older than the records we’ve got. These symbols—” he gestured to a sketch of the carvings on the amulet “—are from a language no one’s fully translated. Some scholars link it to the Order of Aeyrn, others to the Umbra Pact. Both dangerous groups, to put it lightly.”

Calla leaned forward, her fingers unconsciously gripping the amulet through her hoodie. “But why my family? Why was it hidden in my house?”

Eldridge hesitated. “It’s not random. Relics like this don’t just show up without reason. They bind themselves to bloodlines, usually to protect their secrets or… their power.”

Calla shivered. Power. She’d felt something the first time she held the amulet, like a spark catching deep inside her chest. It was growing stronger, little by little, since she’d started wearing it. Sometimes, when the whispers came, she thought she could feel shadows pressing close, like she wasn’t alone in her room.

That night, the whispers returned.

“Calla…” The voice was soft, curling around her name like smoke. She sat up in bed, her heart racing.

“Who’s there?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

*You know me.*

“No, I don’t.”

*But you will.* The words slithered through her mind, and for a moment, the room seemed darker than it should be. She clutched the amulet tightly, as if it might burn her.

The next day, Eldridge paced in front of her, muttering to himself. “It’s reacting to you now, isn’t it? I can see it in your face.”

“It’s… whispering,” she admitted. “Telling me things. It knows stuff about my family, Eldridge. Stuff even my dad doesn’t talk about. Like how my great-grandmother was part of something. Something to do with the Umbra Pact.”

Eldridge froze. He looked at her like she’d just stepped on a landmine. “Calla, you don’t understand. If the Umbra Pact is tied to your family, they’ll come for you. They don’t let their secrets walk free.”

“What do they want?” Calla demanded.

He hesitated, his jaw working as if choosing his next words carefully. “The amulet, for one. But more than that… control. You might be part of whatever prophecy or curse they’ve been clinging to for centuries. You might even—” He stopped.

“Might even what?”

Before he could answer, the library lights flickered. A cold breeze swept through the room, though the windows were firmly shut. Calla felt the weight of the amulet grow heavier, as if pulling her down.

*They’re close,* the whisper warned. *You have to act before it’s too late.*

“Eldridge,” Calla breathed, backing toward the door. But he was already moving, his old leather satchel clutched tightly.

“We need to leave. Now,” he said, his voice low and urgent.

Outside, the streetlights buzzed in the foggy evening. Calla could feel the amulet pulsing against her skin, almost like a heartbeat. It whispered again, louder this time, but the words weren’t clear. Just fragments. Betrayal. Blood.