Ava Zavora

“It was her favorite story, that she remembers, but she would be hard-pressed to retell it now, faithfully, as it had been told to her. All she could recall were frayed, sleep-watered images of a forgotten castle in the middle of a wild forest, stone statues, crimson roses, and a dark, animal presence never seen, but which stained her memory of the tale, even past its edges to the daylight after.”
― Ava Zavora, Belle Noir: Tales of Love and Magic

“Some curses fade and leave nothing but the faintest mark, a tea stain on watered silk. There are those that are so malevolent that, upon defeat, explode in a fiery burst of sulfurous flames, burning everything they touch as they die. Others dissolve like morning mist in the brightness of the midday sun. Some cannot be defeated at all, but feed upon the energy spent trying to vanquish it, growing more and more potent with each failed attempt.

And then there are those ancient curses with deceptively simple antidotes that shatter like jagged shards of a vast mirror.

These curses may be broken, but never completely destroyed, sharp slivers of light distorted.”
― Ava Zavora, Belle Noir: Tales of Love and Magic