The Cursed Castle
Once upon a time, in a small village by the sea, there lived a young adventurer named Umar. He was brave and kind, and everyone in the village liked him. He had curly hair, bright eyes, and a heart full of curiosity. He always wanted to explore new places and help people in need.
One evening, as the sun was setting, a tired traveler arrived in the village. He sat by the well, drinking water, while the villagers gathered around him. His clothes were torn, and he looked exhausted from his long journey.
"Where do you come from?" an old woman asked.
"From the north," the traveler said. "I have seen many places, but none as frightening as the cursed castle deep in the forest."
The villagers murmured. Some looked afraid, while others shook their heads.
"A cursed castle?" Umar asked, stepping forward. "What happened there?"
The traveler sighed. "Many years ago, that castle was filled with joy. There was music, laughter, and happiness. But then, a wicked witch became jealous. She cast a spell that brought darkness to the land. The castle fell into silence, the crops stopped growing, and now only ghosts remain inside."
The villagers gasped.
"The forest around the castle is dry," the traveler continued. "No flowers bloom there, and the sky above it is always dark. No one dares to go near it. Some say the spirit of the young prince still roams the halls, trapped forever."
Umar clenched his fists. He could not let the curse continue. The village depended on the crops, and if they did not grow, the people would suffer.
"I will go to the castle," Umar said firmly. "I will break the curse."
The villagers were shocked.
"Umar, it’s dangerous!" an old man warned.
"You’re just a boy!" a woman added.
But Umar stood tall. "I must try," he said.
His mother packed him some food, and the village blacksmith gave him a small sword for protection. With a map in hand, Umar set off toward the forest.
The trees grew taller and darker as he walked. Birds did not sing, and the air felt heavy. The wind whispered through the leaves like voices calling his name. He ignored it and kept walking.
After a long walk, he reached the castle gates. The walls were cracked, and the windows were covered in dust. Vines twisted around the stone, and everything was silent. Umar took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The courtyard was empty. No sound, no wind. It felt as if time had stopped. Umar’s footsteps echoed as he walked toward the main hall.
Suddenly, a voice whispered, "Who are you?"
Umar spun around. A ghostly figure stood before him—a young prince dressed in royal robes. His eyes were sad, and his face was pale.
"I am Umar," he said. "I came to break the curse."
The prince looked at him with hope. "For years, no one has dared to enter," he said. "The witch took away our happiness. She left this castle in darkness. The only way to break the curse is to destroy her magical stick."
"Where is it?" Umar asked.
The prince pointed to the tallest tower. "At the top," he said. "But beware. A stone gargoyle guards it. No one has ever passed it."
Umar took a deep breath. "I will try."
He climbed the stairs, step by step. The wood creaked under his feet. A cold wind howled through the tower. The shadows seemed to move as he walked. At last, he reached the top.
There, on a golden stand, was the witch’s magical stick. It glowed with dark light. But before he could step forward, the stone gargoyle came to life. Its eyes burned red, and it let out a deep growl.
"You shall not take it!" the gargoyle roared.
Umar’s heart pounded. He gripped his sword, but he knew he could not fight a creature made of stone. He had to think fast.
He looked around and saw a large window. An idea came to him.
He grabbed a loose stone from the floor and threw it at the window. The glass shattered, and sunlight poured in.
The gargoyle screamed and covered its eyes. It could not stand the light!
Umar did not waste a second. He ran to the stand, grabbed the magical stick, and rushed down the stairs.
The castle shook. The walls groaned. The dark clouds above swirled faster.
"The curse is breaking!" the prince’s voice echoed through the halls.
Umar ran to the courtyard. He saw an old fire pit in the center. He snapped the stick in half and threw it into the fire. Flames rose high, turning the wood to ashes.
"The royal garden!" the prince’s voice called. "Spread the ashes in the royal garden!"
Umar scooped up the ashes and ran to the garden behind the castle. The trees were bare, the grass was dead. He scattered the ashes across the soil.
A strong wind rushed through the air. The dark clouds vanished. The ground trembled.
Then, one by one, flowers bloomed. The trees turned green. The castle’s walls became bright and clean. The curse had been lifted!
The prince’s spirit appeared again. But this time, he was smiling.
"Thank you, Umar," he said. "You have freed us."
Then, slowly, his spirit faded away, disappearing into the light.
Umar stood in amazement. The castle was beautiful once more. Birds chirped, and the air felt warm. The land was alive again.
With a joyful heart, Umar returned to the village.
When the villagers saw him, they ran to greet him.
"The crops will grow again!" an old woman cried.
"The curse is gone!" a man shouted.
They all cheered for Umar. He was no longer just a young adventurer. He was a hero.
That night, the village held a great feast in his honor. There was music, dancing, and laughter. The people who had once feared the cursed castle now spoke of it with joy.
An old man patted Umar on the shoulder. "You have done what no one else could," he said. "You have given us back our land."
Umar smiled. "I only did what was right," he said. "And I will always be ready to help again."
From that day on, Umar went on many more adventures, always ready to help those in need. His name became known far and wide as the boy who had broken the curse of the silent castle.
And he and his village lived happily ever after.
