Preparation for the Night~
Elara's muffled sobs lingered in the hallway long after her parents' footsteps faded into the night. The manor felt colder, heavier, as if the darkness itself was pressing in, eager to fill the void left by their absence. Elara sat in her wheelchair, hands gripping the armrests so tightly her knuckles were white. Her legs, wrapped in a soft blanket, trembled with the rest of her.
Yume quietly wheeled her back into her room, careful not to jostle her. Levy and Cana followed, exchanging worried glances. Shadows crept across the walls, growing bolder as night pressed in, and every sound seemed to echo with unnatural clarity.
Yume's voice was steady and measured. "Tonight won't be easy. The curse feeds on fear. We need to stay sharp—and stay close."
He knelt, tracing a circle of salt on the warped wooden floor, making sure to leave a wide enough path for Elara's wheelchair to move freely within the barrier. The grains shimmered in the flickering candlelight, each crystal a fragile barrier against the dark. "Stay within the circle. It won't stop her, but it will slow her down."
He looked to Elara, who sat clutching the arms of her chair, her eyes red-rimmed but a little steadier now. "My magic is called Darkbound Legion. It lets me summon shikigami—spirit beasts I've defeated and bound in solo combat. Each has its own powers and personality, and they're fiercely loyal. Think of them as magical guardians, shaped by my will and imagination."
He pressed his palm to the floor, and with a shimmer of shadow and light, two majestic wolves materialized—one white as fresh snow, the other black as midnight. "These are my Twin Divine Dogs: Sky and Sea. Sky will stay with Levy, and Sea with Cana. If anything tries to harm you, they'll know before you do."
Levy knelt beside Sky, her eyes widening as the massive white wolf lowered its enormous head toward her. Its fur was thick and soft, like freshly fallen snow, and its warm breath ruffled her hair. Despite being as large as a horse, Sky's gentle nuzzle made Levy giggle as the giant paw carefully brushed her fingers. "I've read about shikigami, but I never imagined one this big could be so gentle."
Cana crouched beside Sea, the black wolf nearly dwarfing her with its powerful frame. The beast leaned heavily into her touch, a deep, approving rumble vibrating through its broad chest. "You're a big sweetheart, aren't you?" she said with a grin, scratching behind one massive ear. "I could definitely get used to having a backup this size."
Yume allowed himself a rare, small smile at their reactions. "Just don't feed them too many snacks. They take their jobs seriously."
Then, with a more solemn gesture, Yume summoned Enma. The room filled with a sudden, intense heat as the lion-ape hybrid emerged—towering, armored in gold and white, his mane a blaze of purple fire, eyes burning with fierce intelligence. He planted his massive staff with a heavy thud, standing sentinel by Elara's chair.
Elara shrank back, her hands gripping the armrests even tighter. "He's… scary," she whispered.
Yume knelt beside her, his voice gentle but firm. "I know he looks fierce, but Enma is a protector. He's here for you, Elara. No spirit can get past him." Enma, sensing her fear, lowered his head and let his mane's flames dim, his posture softening just a little—but his sheer size and blazing eyes remained intimidating.
Elara's voice was small and shaky. "I wish I had a giant dog instead…"
Levy offered her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Elara. If anything tries to hurt you, Enma will scare it away—and Sky and Sea will keep us all safe."
Cana, usually brash, looked uncharacteristically pale. "Let's hope he's enough."
Yume's expression turned serious. "We cannot split up. If you separate, you put yourselves in danger and make it harder to protect Elara. Levy, keep your research close. Watch for any changes in the environment or new clues. Cana, maintain the protective wards, salt circles, and charms. Both of you stay near Elara at all times."
His gaze hardened. "I'll focus on sensing the curse's movements and any manifestations. No one leaves the circle. No one wanders alone. If you feel anything—cold, dizzy, watched—say it immediately. If anything happens, we signal and regroup. No heroics. We survive together."
The group nodded, the tension in the room thick as the gathering dark.
Levy set up her "command post" by Elara's wheelchair, surrounded by grimoires and journals. Cana drew thick salt circles at every entrance, her voice a nervous hum as she hung silver charms and bundles of herbs on the doors and windows. She placed tarot cards as wards, their painted faces seeming to watch the room.
They agreed on signals—three knocks for regrouping, a magical flare if separated. Yume placed wards in the "hotspots" he'd sensed earlier, and the group arranged lanterns and magical lights, their glow weak against the pressing dark. Every mirror was shrouded twice, and the windows sealed.
As the group settled in, the shikigami melted into the shadows—Sky and Sea flanking Levy and Cana, Enma looming over Elara's chair, their presence a silent promise of protection as the night's dread began to close in.
***
The practical preparations did little to ease the tension in Elara's shoulders. She sat in her wheelchair, hands gripping the armrests, her eyes darting to every shadow and shrouded mirror.
Levy knelt beside her, voice soft and steady. "Elara, it's okay to be scared. Anyone would be. This place feels heavy, but you're not alone." She reached out, gently taking Elara's cold hand in hers. "We're here with you. We'll keep you safe."
Cana settled on the other side, offering a warm smile. "Yeah, and we've got some pretty big, scary friends watching over you too." She nodded toward Sky and Sea, the twin wolves quietly padding nearby. "They don't let anything bad get close."
Elara's lip quivered. "But what if… what if she comes back? When Mama and Papa aren't here?"
Levy squeezed her hand. "We know it's scary. But we're ready. We have magic, and we have each other. And you're braver than you think." She smiled gently. "Remember, it's okay to feel afraid. But we'll face it together."
Cana pulled a soft shawl from her bag and draped it over Elara's shoulders. "Here, this will keep you warm. And if you want, you can hold my hand whenever you need. You're not alone."
Elara blinked back tears and nodded, the tremble in her body easing just a little.
Levy leaned closer, her voice calm but confident. "We'll watch every shadow, listen to every sound. And if anything happens, we'll protect you. You're safe here."
Cana added with a wink, "And if that ghost tries anything funny, Enma's gonna roast her like marshmallows."
Elara managed a small, shaky smile.
Levy whispered, "Let's take it one moment at a time. You're stronger than you know, Elara."
The room felt a fraction warmer, the heavy dread lifting just enough for Elara to breathe a little easier.
Yume watched the scene unfold from near the window, standing tall and straight, hands tucked in his pockets, hat pulled low so his eyes were shadowed. For a moment, the usual stoic line of his mouth softened—just a hint of a smile, almost a smirk, flickered at the corner of his lips. He let out a quiet breath, the tension in his shoulders easing. Honestly, he wasn't sure he could have offered the same comfort. Seeing the two of them manage it so naturally brought a rare sense of relief.
"Yare yare daze," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else—a soft sigh of mild relief and resignation. His posture remained relaxed but confident, the shadow of his hat making his small smile all the more enigmatic.
***
The Unseen Presence~
Night fell like a living thing, swallowing the manor in a suffocating hush. The ancient wood groaned and sighed, as if the house itself resented their presence. Shadows pooled in corners, thick and oily, and the air tasted faintly of rust and wilted lilies. Every breath felt damp and cold, as if the room itself was exhaling against their skin.
The silence was so deep that even the ticking of Levy's pocket watch seemed unnaturally loud. The only other sound was the faint, irregular drip of water somewhere in the walls—a slow, maddening rhythm.
It began subtly—a whisper, like dry leaves scraping across a gravestone, weaving through the empty corridors. The temperature plummeted, a bone-aching cold clawing at their skin. Their breath fogged in the stagnant air. Every shadow seemed to deepen, to coil and writhe at the edge of vision, as if unseen eyes watched from the very fabric of the house.
Levy's pen stilled over her journal. She blinked, then frowned. In the far corner of the room, something pale fluttered—a length of lace, drifting in the air. She stared, heart hammering, as the veil twisted and danced, beckoning her. The scent of old perfume—sickly sweet, rotting flowers—filled her nose. When she looked again, it was gone, but the chill lingered in her bones.
She tried to focus on her notes, but the words blurred. Her mind wandered—she saw herself walking down a long, empty aisle, a faceless crowd watching, a veil lowering over her own face. The sensation of silk tightening around her throat made her gasp; she shook her head, forcing herself back to reality.
Cana, laying out her tarot cards, paused as a faint voice—her own name—whispered from behind her ear. She spun, but found only Sea, hackles raised, eyes locked on the darkness beyond the door. The voice came again, softer, more insistent: "Cana… help me…" The cards trembled violently, flipping over one by one, each showing The Tower, its lightning-struck spire a warning of disaster.
Cana's hands shook. She tried to laugh it off, but her voice was thin. "If this is some kind of cosmic joke, I'd like a refund."
Elara, slumped in her wheelchair, began to tremble violently. Her eyes, wide and vacant, darted frantically to every shrouded mirror, every darkened window. She muttered about "her" presence—a cold breath on her neck, a phantom touch on her hair. Her hand, as if not her own, began to rise, reaching toward the nearest mirror, her gaze unfocused and glassy.
Levy noticed and lunged to grab Elara's hand, but it was Yume who moved instantly. "Enma—now!"
The lion-ape surged forward, placing his massive hand gently but firmly on Elara's armrest, careful not to hurt her. Flames flickered along his mane, casting wild shadows that drove back the chill. Elara's hand dropped limply to her lap, her eyes fluttering as if waking from a nightmare.
The manor itself seemed to hold its breath, every creak and groan a sigh of agony, every silence a moment of terrifying anticipation. Yume's skin prickled with the sense of the spirit's growing power, a suffocating presence thickening the air, a palpable dread that whispered: it knows you're here. And it's coming.
The clock on the mantel chimed midnight. The sound echoed too long, warping into a low, guttural moan that seemed to vibrate through the walls. The lanterns flickered, their light shrinking as the shadows pressed closer. Levy's bell traps jingled softly, though nothing seemed to move.
A sudden, icy draft swept through the room, extinguishing one of the lanterns. The darkness thickened. Levy's heart pounded. "Did anyone else feel that?"
Cana nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's like something's crawling up my spine."
Sky and Sea growled, their fur bristling, eyes fixed on the shrouded mirror. Enma's staff glowed with purple fire, casting monstrous shadows on the walls.
A sharp, metallic taste filled the air—blood, or fear, or both.
***
The oppressive stillness shattered. An icy gale whipped through the manor—not from outside, but from the very walls—snuffing out every candle and lamp. Darkness pressed in, thick and suffocating, swallowing every sound except the frantic beating of their hearts.
In the gloom, the mirror flickered with a sickly, pallid glow. The veiled figure emerged, her outline wavering like something glimpsed through water. Her presence was overwhelming, a tide of sorrow and accusation.
Elara's breath caught; her lips moved in silent terror. The Divine Dogs snarled, hackles raised, but even they seemed dwarfed by the spirit's malice. Enma's mane flared with purple fire, casting monstrous shadows on the walls.
Levy felt the world tilt. For a heartbeat, the room was filled with ghostly brides—pale, faceless, all drifting toward the mirror. Their silent weeping echoed in her ears. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. The scent of wilted lilies and earth filled her mouth, choking her.
Cana's ears rang with voices—her own, her mother's, strangers'—all whispering secrets she'd never told. "You can't save her. You can't save yourself." The words burrowed into her mind, cold and sharp. She pressed her hands over her ears, but the voices only grew louder, a chorus of guilt and despair.
The figure's hum built—a lullaby twisted into a dirge. The sound vibrated in their bones, promising ruin. The taste of ashes filled their mouths.
Elara's hand crept up again, her eyes glazed, drawn toward the mirror as if by invisible strings. The glass rippled, a pale hand reaching out from within. Elara's lips moved, mouthing silent words, as if answering a call only she could hear.
Sky and Sea lunged, jaws snapping at the spectral limb. Enma's staff slammed down, sending a shockwave of purple fire through the floorboards. The apparition recoiled, but its gaze—black, bottomless, and full of hate—fixed on Yume.
He stepped forward, his voice a low, steady rumble, cutting through the chilling silence. "She's here."
The veiled figure's hum rose to a shriek, mirrors across the room cracking in unison. The temperature plunged. Then—total darkness, and the sense of icy fingers closing around every throat.
End of Chapter 14.