TMBIPYMEN Chapter 6

—Layla.

—Layla Chrysrad.

—Open your eyes.

Layla gasped for breath urgently like someone just pulled from water. As air filled her tightly constricted lungs, her tingling face finally began to gain movements.

Gasping and turning her head, she saw Yustar's face. He had laid Laila on the soft grass and was leaning back against an old tree stump—he looked slightly tired but his expression was calm.

"You're awake."

"...Did I faint?"

Yustar smiled faintly and nodded. She could see a small flying insect sitting on his gently curved knuckles.

"First time with 'Overlaying,' I suppose?"

Layla frowned.

"You mean possession?"

"Similar, but somewhat different. Possession is when a ghost borrows a medium's body. They can speak through the medium's voice, and the medium can display abilities different from usual under the soul's influence. For instance... right. What would happen if you stabbed a medium in a state of perfect possession with a knife?"

Layla, who had been blinking while lying down, spoke as if exhaling.

"If perfect possession is possible as you say, nothing would happen even if you stabbed the medium. Once possession progresses, though the body belongs to the medium, control over it belongs to the soul."

Yustar smiled.

"Right. That's possession. 'Overlaying' isn't strictly speaking, possession. It's like peering into the core memories of a soul. Depending on the method and their cooperation, the difference is like secretly stealing a peek at a secret diary versus reading a public notice posted in the square."

Layla, who had been thinking, said.

"That's why I could see what happened to that child named Vin. That was 'Overlaying.'"

"Right. The initial shock is quite severe."

Layla sat up, feeling dizzy.

"What happened to it? The Sink, I mean. And the ghost too..."

"Ah, I took care of that. The Sink disappeared cleanly too."

His words "took care of" bothered her strangely. Layla recalled the young boy's ghost being sucked into Yustar's hand. Stretched out as if forcibly pulled, it had been in pain. It had been wailing...

Suddenly she remembered the incident in the forest. Then too, Yustar had eliminated those children's ghosts without batting an eye. And 'fed' them to something.

Yustar stood up.

"Thanks to you, I could resolve it easily. Thank you, Layla."

It was at that moment. Layla saw the dark smoke that she had seen before spreading faintly over his shoulder. But when she closed and opened her eyes again, the smoke had disappeared as if it had never been there.

It must have been an optical illusion because of the darkness. Layla thought. Maybe his making that bead disappear was some kind of sleight of hand, or perhaps some kind of absurd magical artifact...

"Now, Layla. Get up. I'll take you home."

Layla looked at his extended hand. The gloves he'd been wearing had been removed at some point, leaving his bare hand, and her gaze caught on the strange ring worn on his middle finger.

A sapphire cut into a heptagon, or perhaps another gemstone? It looked somehow unbalanced, yet it drew her attention.

"That ring..."

At Layla's words, Yustar raised his right hand to show her.

"This one?"

"What kind of ring is it?"

Just as Yustar was about to answer, Laila's steps stopped abruptly. Her red eyes glowed even redder, brighter.

It was flames.

"Layla!"

Yustar urgently chased after Layla, who suddenly began running through the forest path. Layla's short hair that reached her shoulders shook frantically.

Her house was burning.

Billowing pitch-black smoke like a nightmare, it licked with crimson tongues as if to devour Ridgecarse's ominous night.

Layla ran without caring that her cheek was scratched by branches. She stopped when she heard the sound of a pillar collapsing.

"There she is!"

One of the villagers surrounding her burning house glared at Layla and shouted.

Only then did she realize that all of Ridgecarse's people had come here to burn down her house. She also saw them standing with pitchforks and sickles, things like plows with sharpened points...

To kill me. Layla thought.

Red light licked across their faces stained with soot. Faces red as blood. Layla recalled a fragment of a story she'd heard from her mother.

'Layla, Demons. Demons have faces like flames.'

"You witch! Give me back my child!"

"Burn her to death!"

Stones flew. Though none of them hit Layla, the villagers' momentum was menacing.

They seemed ready to pick her up and throw her into the blazing flames right away. And when she screamed in agony, they would dance to it as music...

"What are you people doing!"

The moment Yustar shouted, the villagers' hostile gazes turned toward him in unison. Some people still brandished sickles threateningly at Layla, but others showed signs of hesitation.

"That witch killed our children!"

A red-faced man thrust his pitchfork at Layla as if to stab her. Yustar stood blocking the way protectively and smiled broadly.

"That's a mistake. Layla didn't kill the children."

"Stop your nonsense! If not that witch, who did such a thing? You're in league with the witch too! A demon bastard consorting with the witch!"

At the unbearable profanity, Layla tried to step forward. However, Yustar blocked her with a gentle movement barely noticeable to people's eyes.

"Sorry to disappoint your expectations, but I'm not a demon—just an ordinary human."

"Shut your trap!"

The man picked up a fist-sized stone. But before he could swing his arm to throw it, suddenly thick, coarse vines sprouted from his feet.

"Wh-what is this! Ahh!"

The hand of the man entangled in vines trembled, and the stone dropped below with a thunk. People pointed fingers at Layla with terror-stricken faces, gripping their farming tools even tighter.

"It's the witch! The witch did it!"

"Burn her to death right now!"

Then Layla, who had been standing behind Yustar, could no longer hold back and shouted.

"It wasn't me!"

Yustar said.

"She's right. That just now was my doing. Don't worry, it's not demon magic or anything. Just one of the magical artifacts used for catching monsters."

The people of the quiet, remote village of Ridgecarse were ignorant about things like monsters and magical artifacts. Though they vaguely knew what such things were, they couldn't imagine that such things actually existed.

While the villagers hesitated, Layla's house continued burning mercilessly.

Rafters collapsed, and the roof became completely invisible. Layla suddenly thought of her mother's chair. The chair so worn that it creaked just from sitting in it.

Mother said she gave birth to me there. And she met her death there. That chair must have burned up completely too. The worn bed, the baby cradle that might have been hundreds of years old, the dried herbs and several books...

Yustar said.

"The children of this village dying—your very own children—wasn't Layla's fault. It was the fault of the Sink's ghost. You people created that ghost. The dead child, Vin. You know who that is, don't you."

Murmuring sounds spread among the people. Someone screamed, and someone staggered as if about to faint. Tommy's father, holding a viciously sharpened sickle, cried out in a wailing voice.

"What nonsensical drivel are you spouting! If you want to die too, if that's your wish, I'll burn you together with that witch!"

He approached with angry strides, breathing heavily. Each time he swung his arm, the sickle blade made a sound cutting through the air, and his filthy leather boots trampled the rustling dirt.

I can't stand it anymore. Layla thought. I can't stand it any longer...

The pain she thought had disappeared bit down hard on somewhere inside her body. It was pain like being bitten by a snake, and Layla screamed.

"Your son killed Vin!"

The man who had been about to swing his sickle at Yustar froze like stone. Several people gasped, and the embers that had reduced Layla's house to ashes now transferred to trees and grass as if seeking another victim.

The man, eyes bulging and teeth clenched, said.

"You... filthy witch, what are you, what are you saying. What about my son? How dare you frame my son!"

Layla raised her red eyes to glare at him.

"You know better than anyone it's not a frame-up. When you found Vin's corpse, Tommy told you everything. You threw away both bodies like discarding rotten meat to hide it. And you people too. All of you knew but kept your mouths shut! While they were having their bellies eaten by wild beasts, you were desperately trying not to admit your own child had killed someone!"

The villagers' fierce faces turned pale. Those who had known the truth, those who hadn't... the bewilderment spreading among them made Layla feel nauseous.

Crack, came a sound. It was the last remaining wall collapsing. Flames flickered across Layla's face. It seemed curses would pour from her wide eyes at any moment.

"Get out of here right now. If you all don't leave, I'll throw you into those flames. I'm a witch, I have the ability to do such things."

Someone stepped backward. As if that sound were a signal flare, people screamed and scattered in all directions.

Tommy's father, who had been about to attack with his sickle, also fled the forest faster than anyone, and soon nothing remained before their eyes but the burned-down house and licking flames.

Layla gazed at her burned house with hollow, empty eyes. She hadn't loved it, but still, that house had been everything to her. From the moment she was born until now, that place had been her world.

"Come with me, Layla."

At Yustar's words, Layla laughed emptily.

"Where to? No matter where I go, I can't live properly. You know that. Its this hair, these eyes."

"I told you. Your eyes are beautiful and special. I need your eyes. Help me."

He extended his right hand. Instantly, Layla felt that strange sense of déjà vu again. The impulse to follow his words, the firm emotion that she didn't want to refuse—it stabbed her. Like a protruding nail.

Without answering, Layla carefully took his extended hand.

Lukewarm warmth held her firmly.