Back at the Manor~
The manor's hall was thick with the scent of burnt lilies and old wood. Flickering candlelight cast long, grasping shadows across the walls, as if the darkness itself was watching. Cana sat close to Levy, her tarot deck clutched in trembling hands. Levy's notebook was pressed to her chest, her knuckles white, her eyes darting to every shadow. Yume stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the dying light outside.
Cana's voice was barely a whisper, thin with dread. "What if we can't break the curse, Yume? What if we fail Elara?" Her hands shook, the cards slipping between her fingers. She rubbed her arms, goosebumps rising along her skin, and pressed closer to Levy.
Levy squeezed Cana's hand, her own fingers cold and clammy. "We have to try. For Elara, and for every soul this curse has touched." Her voice wavered, but there was steel beneath the fear. She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and glanced at Yume.
Yume turned from the window, his expression softening as he noticed Cana's tension. He moved closer, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder. His voice was steady, warm with reassurance. "We're not giving up—not on Elara, and not on each other. We'll get through this together."
***
A sudden, unnatural gust of wind—reeking of grave dust and old despair—snuffed out the candles, plunging the hall into absolute darkness. The blackness pressed in from all sides, thick and suffocating, as if the air itself had turned to tar. Cana's breath caught in her throat. She reached out, but her fingers met only void. The familiar shapes of her friends, the room, even the floor beneath her feet—all were gone. She was alone, utterly and terrifyingly alone.
The darkness coiled around her, alive and hungry. Shadows slithered across her skin, their touch like skeletal fingers tracing her arms, her neck, her face. She tried to scream, but the sound died in her throat, swallowed by the oppressive silence. The only sound was the frantic pounding of her own heart, a drumbeat counting down to an unknown horror.
Whispers slithered from the void, voices she couldn't quite place—her friends, her enemies, the veiled bride herself, all overlapping, all mocking.
"You're lost," they murmured. "You were always lost."
She stumbled forward, but the ground shifted beneath her, tilting at impossible angles. The walls seemed to breathe, pulsing with a sick, living rhythm.
Without warning, the darkness twisted, and Cana found herself standing at the edge of the cursed well. The stone lip was worn smooth, the iron grate rusted and broken. The water below was black as pitch, its surface writhing with unseen things. The air stank of damp earth and something metallic—old blood, perhaps, or something worse.
A chill wind swept through the clearing, carrying the scent of burnt lilies. The water rippled, though there was no breeze. In its murky depths, a face formed—the veiled bride, her hollow eyes locking onto Cana. The same despair that clung to the well radiated from her, a suffocating weight that threatened to drag Cana under.
"You cannot escape your fate," the bride's voice echoed, not from the water, but from inside Cana's own mind. "You cannot save them. Vengeance… is mine."
Cana's legs buckled. She tried to back away, but the ground crumbled beneath her, sending her sliding toward the well's hungry maw. She screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the darkness.
The world twisted again. Cana was back in the manor, but it was wrong—the walls bled, the ceiling dripped with something thick and black. The furniture writhed like living things, their edges blurring, their forms shifting. The veiled bride's face appeared in every mirror, her smile cruel, her eyes dead.
"You're losing yourself," the bride whispered. "Soon, you'll be nothing but a memory."
Cana's hands trembled as she fumbled for her tarot deck, but the cards were slick with something warm and wet. She drew the Star card, but its light flickered weakly, barely pushing back the encroaching darkness.
Just as Cana felt herself slipping away, a pulse of silver light split the gloom. From the edge of her vision, her own shadow stretched unnaturally, then burst forth as a sleek, spectral hound—one of Yume's twin shikigami. The hound leapt into the nightmare, its fur shimmering with protective energy, its teeth bared as silver flame erupted around it.
***
The illusion shattered like glass. The cursed well, the bleeding walls, the veiled bride—all dissolved into smoke. In an instant, Cana was back in the real world, gasping for breath, her body trembling, her mind reeling.
The hound lingered at her feet, its glowing eyes soft with reassurance. Yume was there in a heartbeat, his gun swords at the ready. He knelt beside her, his face etched with concern. "Cana, are you hurt?" His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed his worry.
Levy arrived moments later, her notebook clutched to her chest, her eyes wide with fear. She reached out, gripping Cana's shoulder. "You're okay now. We're here."
Cana's hands trembled as she reached out, her fingers brushing the hound's shimmering coat. The warmth of its magic seeped into her, chasing away the last remnants of the illusion. "I—I was with you both," she stammered, her voice unsteady. "Then the bride pulled me in. She showed me… everything. The well, the darkness, the lily. It felt so real. I tried to fight back, but—" She swallowed hard, her fingers twitching toward her tarot deck. "I thought I was going to be lost in there."
Levy squeezed her shoulder, her eyes wide with worry. "You're okay now. We're here."
Yume's expression softened. He gently placed a hand on Cana's arm, his voice low and reassuring. "The hound sensed your distress and pulled you out. Are you hurt?"
Cana shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "No, just… shaken."
Yume nodded, his gaze warm but steady. "The hound will stay with you. We'll make sure this doesn't happen again." He hesitated, then added, "You're not alone, Cana. We're in this together."
Cana's breath hitched. The fear was still there, clawing at her chest, but so was something else—gratitude, relief, and a fierce determination not to let the curse win. She looked at her friends, her voice stronger now. "Thanks. I needed that. I just… I need a second."
Yume and Levy stood close, forming a protective circle around her. The hallway was quiet, but the threat of the curse loomed in the air. For now, though, Cana was safe—and together, with the hound at her side, they would face whatever came next.
***
Yume's sharp eyes caught the lily. He picked it up, turning it in his fingers. The scent of burnt lilies clung to the air, but this was fresh—too fresh. The petals were soft, the stem still damp, already wilting before their eyes.
This wasn't here before. And it's wilting already. That's not just ghostly—that's deliberate.
He looked at Levy and Cana, his voice low and steady. "This wasn't here before. And it's wilting already. That's not just the curse—that's a person. Someone's feeding the curse, guiding it. Spirits don't leave flowers. This is a message from someone very much alive."
Cana's eyes widened. "You mean… someone in the village is helping the bride?"
Levy's stomach twisted. "That makes sense. The curse isn't acting alone. Someone's pulling the strings."
Yume nodded, grim. "We need to be careful. The enemy isn't just a ghost anymore. It's someone who can hide in plain sight."
Yume's eyes sharpened, fingers curled around the hilt of his gun sword. This human betrayal was a deeper cruelty.
Human hands behind this curse—not just a spirit. That's a different kind of evil.
His pulse was steady, but inside, a cold fury simmered.
Betrayal from within. Someone who smiles by day, feeds the curse by night.
He scanned the room, every shadow a potential threat.
This isn't just about protecting Elara anymore. It's about justice—for her, for the Blackwoods, for everyone who's suffered.
He glanced at Levy and Cana, their faces etched with shock and determination. He reached out, resting a hand on Cana's shoulder. "We'll find them. And we'll make sure no one else gets hurt."
Levy hugged herself, stomach clenched with disgust and fear.
Levy clutched her notebook, her knuckles white.
Who could do this? Who among the villagers would help a curse?
Her mind raced, replaying every interaction, every smile, every wary glance.
This isn't a story in a book. This is real. Someone is watching us. Lying to us.
She felt a chill, deeper than the night air.
What if it's someone we've already met? What if they're closer than we think?
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus.
I have to find the truth. For Elara. For all of us.
Cana's usual bravado faded, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. "Someone… one of them," she whispered.
Cana stared at her tarot deck, the cards heavy in her hands.
The curse is being fed. Someone is helping it grow.
She thought of the villagers—some kind, some suspicious, all with secrets.
What if it's someone I've laughed with? Someone I've trusted?
Her throat tightened.
I have to be careful. The curse will fight back if I dig too deep.
She looked at Yume, seeking reassurance.
He met her gaze, his eyes steady and warm. "We'll get through this. Together."
***
The silence stretched, thick with tension.
Yume broke it, his voice low and steady. "We need a new approach. The spirit reacted to our power. But a person… a person can hide. Manipulate."
He gestured to the scorched salt circle, its blackened edges stark against the floor. "This place is the focal point. But the conspirator is the fuel."
Levy snapped her notebook open, her pen scratching furiously. The sound was sharp in the quiet, a reminder that every second counted. "We need to identify them. Motive, opportunity, access. Lady Isolde's letter mentioned betrayal over silver. Could it be a family dispute, a distant relative seeking inheritance or revenge?"
Her mind raced through possibilities, her unease channeled into action. "We should revisit the village records, but this time, specifically looking for anyone who benefited from the Blackwoods' misfortune, or anyone connected to the family's past that might harbor a grudge."
Cana shuffled her deck, her expression grim. The cards whispered against each other, a sound like dry leaves skittering across stone. "My cards… they don't lie. I'll need to use them differently. Not just for fate, but for intentions, for uncovering hidden truths."
She met Yume's gaze, her eyes shadowed with exhaustion and lingering fear. "It's riskier. The curse might push back harder if I try to uncover its living accomplice directly."
Yume nodded, his gaze unwavering. "We operate under cover. No direct accusations until we have undeniable proof. The last thing we need is for them to realize we're onto them and escalate the curse further, or worse, turn the villagers against us."
He scanned their faces, his eyes sharp in the flickering candlelight. "Levy, focus on the library, the historical connections, the paper trails. Cana, use your cards. Subtle readings, watch for distorted energies, lies. I'll scout, but my focus shifts to observing the villagers themselves. Who behaves oddly? Who has something to gain? Who has a history with the Blackwoods that isn't openly known?"
"We need to find the conspirator," Levy said, her voice firm despite the exhaustion in her eyes.
Cana shuffled her cards, her usual bravado tempered by the night's horrors. "My cards keep pointing to the village square. Maybe we'll find something there."
Yume nodded. "I'll scout the outskirts. If there's magic, I'll sense it."
Levy chewed her lip, her gaze darting to the shadows creeping along the walls. "We should check the old chapel, too. Isolde's curse might have left traces there."
Cana grinned, a spark of her old self returning. "Let's split up, but stay in touch. And if you see anything weird, scream like hell."
Yume's expression darkened. He shook his head, his voice low and firm. "No. We're not splitting up. Not now."
Levy blinked, caught off guard. "But we'll cover more ground if we divide."
Yume's gaze flicked between them, his jaw tight. "If we're isolated, I can handle myself—but the two of you would be in danger. The bride's power is stronger than last night. She's feeding on something, or someone. I won't risk losing either of you."
Cana's grin faltered. She glanced at Levy, then back at Yume, her fingers tightening around her cards. "You really think she's getting stronger?"
Yume nodded, his eyes hard. "There's no doubt. The curse is escalating. We stay together. No arguments."
Levy swallowed, her grip tightening on her notebook. "Okay. Together, then."
Yume's shoulders relaxed slightly, though his vigilance never wavered. He reached out, resting a hand on Cana's shoulder—not as a guardian, but as a friend. "We'll watch each other's backs. That's how we'll get through this."
Cana shuffled her cards, then smirked. "Well, when we finally win, I call dibs on throwing the bride's wedding ring in a well. After we're done, obviously."
Yume couldn't help but chuckle, despite the tension. "Only you, Cana."
The air grew heavier, the scent of burnt lilies clinging to their clothes...
The shadows seemed to pulse, as if listening. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of wind, set their nerves on edge. The conspiracy was closing in, the veiled bride's presence lurking just beyond their sight. The team huddled closer, their resolve a fragile shield against the encroaching darkness.
***
As they prepared for the day ahead, a faint, rhythmic tap-tap-tap echoed from the floor above—from Elara's room.
It was too soft to be footsteps, too precise to be the house settling. The sound was hollow, metallic, as if something unseen was rapping its knuckles against glass. Each tap sent a shiver through the silence, sharp and deliberate.
Yume's head snapped up, his muscles tensing. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the ceiling, listening.
Levy's breath caught, her fingers tightening around her notebook.
Cana's hands stilled on her deck, her gaze darting to the shadows gathering in the corners.
A cold dread settled over them, thick as the scent of burnt lilies that now clung to the air, cloying and suffocating. The candlelight flickered, casting eerie, shifting shapes across the walls.
The veiled bride's reflection had appeared in the window, a momentary warning.
But now, this subtle, yet chilling sound felt like a personal message—a taunt.
From the corner of her eye, Cana saw a shadow move where none should be. The reflection in the glass blurred, then reformed, the bride's hollow eyes locking onto hers for a heartbeat before vanishing.
The conspirator wasn't just hidden; they were toying with them.
They knew the team was still here, still investigating.
And they were letting them know, in the most unsettling way possible, that they were being watched—not just by a human enemy, but by something far more terrifying.
The tap-tap-tapping grew louder, more insistent, as if drawing closer.
The scent of lilies thickened, wrapping around them like a shroud.
Then, from the floor above, a new sound—a sharp, muffled cry.
"Elara!" Yume's voice cracked through the tension.
His face paled, eyes wild with alarm.
Levy's heart skipped a beat.
Cana's hands trembled, her cards nearly slipping from her grasp.
Yume bolted toward the stairs, Cana and Levy close behind, their fear for Elara overriding every other thought.
The air grew colder, prickling against their skin as they sprinted down the hallway, the shadows stretching and twisting in their wake. The team raced toward her room, their footsteps echoing through the manor's haunted halls, the darkness at their heels.
Just as they reached Elara's room, a whisper—barely audible—floated from the darkness behind them:
"You're too late."
The game had just become infinitely more dangerous.
End of Chapter 16