The rain fell upon the thick leaves of the forest, sounding like an ancient prayer—slow, heavy, and endless.
On the stone clearing at the mountaintop, wrapped in veils of mist, Phimrung, Noona, and Pantawan stood within a sacred circle carved with the intertwined sigils of the three races—Human, Divine, and Spirit.
Around them, people of every tribe formed a great ring, each holding a torch with a crimson flame that did not die, even beneath the rain.
The voices of their chants rose and intertwined, echoing through the mist like the heartbeat of a world long divided but finally breathing as one again.
The elder of the Spirit clan, the keeper of the ancient curse, lifted her trembling hand.
> "Blood is the bond that forged the curse… and only blood can wash it away."
Phimrung bit the tip of her finger.
Noona met her eyes and followed.
Pantawan inhaled deeply, then released the final drop of her blood onto the stone at the circle's heart.
Three colors mixed—
the bright red of humanity,
the gold of divinity,
and the violet-black of the spirits.
When their bloods met, the colors merged into a radiant white that slowly spread outward.
A thunderclap split the sky—
the ground trembled as though the buried past had begun to weep.
In that moment, the three saw visions overlapping—
their ancestors, once united, had betrayed one another.
The curse was not born of evil…
but of fear—
the fear of losing what they loved,
and the unforgiveness passed down from generation to generation.
> "We have all made mistakes," Phimrung said, her voice shaking yet firm.
"But this blood shall never again be used to bind."
Pantawan closed her eyes, whispering, "May all souls be released."
Noona raised her hands. "May truth live alongside forgiveness."
Then, the circle blazed with blinding light.
The wind ceased. The rain stopped. Silence fell upon the mountain.
Fragments of the curse rose from the ground, breaking apart into dusts of light and drifting into the heavens.
Only the scent of wet earth remained—soft, pure, and alive.
Dawn broke across the peaks,
and the mists began to part, revealing a faint rainbow stretching over the horizon.
The three stood side by side without a word.
They didn't need one.
For they knew, deep within their hearts—
the curse had ended,
and the blood of the three races had become one again—
in the name of Truth and Forgiveness.