The clink of porcelain and the soft scent of jasmine tea filled the Rosavile manor's parlor. Morning light crept through the tall windows, giving the room a sleepy, golden hue. Everything was quiet. Comfortable. Normal.

Elric sat at the table, stirring his tea slowly. His eyes were unfocused, his mind already drifting somewhere else, calculating, analyzing all kinds of possible answers to the curse.

“Is it really a nightmare? Or does a curse exist? That is the most fantasy thing that can happen, even if illusion magic was actually does not exist. People often think that item is a curse.” He remembered Eugene talking about how people often said a curse is actually imbued with illusion magic.
“Even Helina explained that illusion magic isn’t real”. He recalls Helina explaining about the dangerous substance used for the perfume.

Across from him, Helina leaned back in her chair, having a cup of tea while asking about the recent development of the fief with Lady Seraphine. Eugene was busy building a tower from sugar cubes next to his half eaten scone.

It was a rare moment of calm.

Then a scream tore through the stillness.

Lady Seraphine’s teacup slipped from her fingers and hit the floor. The sharp crack of shattering porcelain snapped everyone to attention.

“Cecile!” she gasped.

Elric was already moving, shoving his chair back with a loud scrape. “Come on.”

Helina shot to her feet, and Eugene nearly choked as he stood mid bite.

They rushed out of the parlor, footsteps pounding on polished stone. The sound of running grew louder down the hall. The scream had come from upstairs.

Elric’s jaw tightened. “That didn’t sound like a normal nightmare,” as he finally concluded the lingering thought he had before.

“Let’s see what I'm working with first…”

Lady Cecile sat curled up on a chaise lounge, her back rigid, body trembling. She was still crying, choked sobs broken by hiccupping breaths. Her left hand clutched at her scalp, pulling at her hair, while her right arm hung limp at her side.

Elric entered the room slowly, raising a hand to stop the others. He took a careful step forward, scanning her movements.

“Only the left arm is moving. Why isn’t the right response? Paralysis? But there’s no sign of injury. Not even atrophy.” Elric keeps on finding more clues.

She kept her eyes shut tight, face twisted in pain. Every time someone got close, she flinched violently.

Lord Timberg stood near the door, pale and helpless. “We’ve called priests, alchemists, even mages. All failed. None could lift the curse.”

Elric didn’t respond immediately. His eyes narrowed.

He crouched down at a safe distance, lowering his voice to a soothing tone. “Lady Cecile. You're safe. Breathe with me, alright? In... and out.”

She didn’t respond. Her fingers kept tugging. The right hand remained frozen. Not rigid. Just... still.

He gently pulled a clean handkerchief from his coat. “I'm placing this on your knee. I'm not touching you, just setting it there.”

Still no movement from her right.

This isn’t a curse, Elric thought. This is something else.

“Can you look at me?” he asked, voice calm.

Her eyes fluttered open, bloodshot and dazed. “It hurts... my arm... It’s not mine. It doesn’t belong to me...”

Elric’s breath caught.

“Not phantom limb syndrome... something rarer. Maybe a supernumerary phantom limb. Or maybe phantom like pain. It is when the limb is paralyzed.” Elric looked at her right arm while thinking.

“This can involve a disconnect between the motor system, which tries to move the limb, and sensory feedback, which is absent or altered. The brain still tries to control the limb and experiences a conflict, sometimes interpreted as pain.” Elric is deep in thought, thinking about all of the possible answers.

“Lady Cecile,” he said gently, “when did the pain begin?”

Her lips trembled. “Since… since the cellar. Since Silvy...”

Her breath hitched. “It should’ve been me. It’s all my fault.” 

She hugged herself tightly with her left arm, curling in as if trying to disappear from her own body.

Elric slowly stood up, eyes locked on her limp right arm. And slowly move out of the area after he manages to calm her down into sleep.

“Elric, did you figure something out?” Helina is curious if Elric can solve the problem or not.

“Of course I am. I'm the greatest magician in history, such a curse is easy.” While in his mind already hit the Eureka button.

“Based on both, the story of the baron and the condition of Lady Cecile. I can conclude it as Trauma-induced somatic disownership.” Elric finds a conclusion in his mind.
“Well, that's the only thing that I came up with based on my experience unveiling all kinds of mentalist trickery. I even get a certificate as a psychological therapist for that reason.” His mind recalls some memory of him as Kim Jiwon.

[Seoul - Kim Jiwon’s during college]

Trauma-induced somatic disownership. A title can be seen written on the blackboard.

“It’s a rare psychological condition. After a traumatic event, the brain disconnects from parts of the body associated with the trauma. It’s not paralysis in the physical sense, but a neurological shutdown. The body works, but the brain denies it.” A guy wearing glasses and a knit top, explaining to the students while writing on the blackboard.

Symptoms: Pain. Disconnection. Psychosomatic paralysis.

“It’s often misdiagnosed as possession or a curse in superstitious societies. But it’s rooted in the psyche.” He paused before continuing to write again.

Cause: Survivor’s guilt. Vicarious trauma.

“As you all know, trauma sometimes leads to PTSD,” recalls his past lecture session.

“If it overlaps with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. What can happen?” While the class is silent, he is looking to find his prey.

“Kim Jiwon! What do you think will happen?” Calling out the only guy who really wants to learn.

“Re-experiencing, avoidance, guilt, hypervigilance, or maybe even a nightmare, I think…” Kim Jiwon answered while cursing in his mind since his name had been called so often.

[Back to Rosavile’s mansion]

“Dammit, I hate that lecture.” mumbling by himself about a lecturer he already forgot name of.

“All signs are here. Her nightmares, her guilt, the physical reaction. It all fits.” Elric convinces himself.

Tap…tap…tap

He tapped his pen. A loud tapping sound echoes through the entire basement as their temporary lab.

"We need a mirror. A real one. Not the polish iron that we tend to use daily." He stood abruptly.

 "Helina. Eugene. Can you make one that's super clear, please?" Making a cute puppy eye, whimpering to Eugene and Helina.

“I need two things. A flawless mirror. And a calming aroma therapy candle.”

Eugene frowned. “A perfectly smooth mirror, huh? That’s tricky. Most glass we have here still distorts at the edges.”

Helina rubbed her chin, already thinking in chemical equations. “If we purify the silica better, maybe add a fluxing agent to lower the melting point, we might reduce impurities in the final sheet...”

“Wait,” Eugene said, snapping his fingers. “I read a method from an old dwarven workshop journal, polish the glass, then coat the backside with molten silver. It’ll reflect almost perfectly. We just need to coat the silver evenly.”

The Rosavile basement had long since been cleared out, but the air still smelled of rust and dust. Eugene rolled up his sleeves while Helina adjusted her goggles.

"You think this’ll work?" she asked, eyeing the crucible.

"If we keep the temperature stable," Eugene said, pouring crushed quartz into the melting basin, "we'll get molten glass without bubbles. Then we coat it in condensed silver vapor."

“But what about the molten silver? It can also make bubbles, right?” Helina is asking about the result.

“Wait,” Eugene said, snapping his fingers. “We can use a mana coil condenser. I’ve got a few spare cores from failed magic devices.”

“A mana coil condenser?” Helina blinked. “You mean using layered spell threads as thermal regulators?”

“Exactly. The spell cores still hold passive mana signatures. If I wind them into a copper housing, I can stabilize the chamber temperature while keeping the silver vapor in a controlled state.”

Helina’s eyes sparkled. “So we get a steady, mirrored coating across the polished glass.”

“I’ll create a sealed crucible. Melt the purified silica into a sheet, then channel the vapor using the condenser. Should give us a perfect reflective surface.”

Elric blinked. They’re reverse engineering industrial methods without knowing it. Mana coil condenser... It’s basically a magical version of a vacuum vapor chamber used in the Liege method.

To them, it was just another magical workaround. But their logic and process echoed modern engineering.

“I’ll work on the essential oils,” Helina added. “Lavender, maybe a hint of bergamot. Something that calms the amygdala and encourages parasympathetic activation.”

Eugene raised an eyebrow. “You just love throwing big words around, huh?”

Helina smirked. “Big words make me sound smarter.”

Elric smiled faintly. This might just work.

That evening, Cecile’s room had been transformed into a quiet sanctuary. Mana lamps cast a dim, steady light, while the lavender and bergamot aroma candle filled the air with a warm, floral scent that softened the edges of the room.

Lady Cecile sat in a wooden chair at the center, her posture tense, hands clenched. Her right arm lay still on her lap, limp and cold, while her left hand rubbed at her head like trying to chase away invisible pain.

Elric crouched nearby, careful to keep his movements slow and non threatening. He studied her from the corner of his eye.

Heart rate elevated, breathing erratic… She’s already on the edge.

He lit another aroma candle and placed it beside her.

“The scent you’re smelling, it's not just for relaxation,” he said softly. “Lavender, bergamot, a touch of neroli. It’s designed to reduce cortisol, the stress hormone, and regulate emotional memory.”

He didn’t expect her to respond. Her mind wasn’t in the present.

Elric retrieved a small pouch and withdrew two warm stones, smoothed and polished by hand.

“Cecile,” he said gently, “I’m going to place one stone in each hand. It’s just to help you feel weight. Nothing magical.”

She hesitated, flinching at his proximity. But slowly, her fingers uncurled. The left hand grasped the stone easily. The right… took longer.

Still some dissociation. She’s afraid of her arm.

But she held it.

“Good,” Elric whispered. “Now… follow my hands.”

He took out two silk ribbons and began to move them left and right in front of her eyes. Slow, deliberate arcs.

Bilateral stimulation. A core principle in EMDR. It forces the brain to process input from both hemispheres, helping traumatic memories shift from the emotional center into rational storage. 
“In my world, it helps PTSD patients, those suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, reprocess traumatic memories. I hope this will work.” Elric is wondering if it will work or not.

“Keep your eyes on the motion,” he said calmly. “Left… right… left…”

Her breath began to sync with the rhythm.

“Now think of Silvy. Picture the moment everything started.”

Cecile’s eyelids fluttered. Her breathing stuttered.

“I... I was holding her in my lap,” she whispered. “She said… she said it would be okay.”

Elric slowed the motion just slightly, changing pace to match her breathing. The room felt quieter somehow, like the memory itself had dulled all outside sound.

“Dive into it,” Elric said softly. “Let the memory surface.”

Her fingers twitched.

“I remember screaming. And her arm…her right arm reached out to me…”

Her body tensed. The stone dropped from her right hand with a dull clink.

“I tried to hold it…but then…”

A strangled sob broke her voice.

Elric steadied his voice. “Keep going. You're safe here. Let the memory play.”

Her eyes darted left and right, tracking his silk ribbons, but her mind was spiraling.

“There was… blood. They…cut her. While she screamed. Her hand…her right hand…reached for me. And then they…!”

She screamed.

Her right hand clenched in a sudden spasm, fingers locking tight.

Elric’s voice cut through, low and firm. “Stay with me, Cecile. That pain…it's from memory. Let’s go deeper.”

She whimpered, but didn’t look away.

More memories spilled forth.

“I spilled hot tea. It burned him. He got angry…the kidnapper, he grabbed me…he wanted to punish me…but Silvy pushed me aside. She took the punishment. She… she said it wasn’t my fault. But…”

Tears streamed down her cheeks. “But it was! I caused it. She got hurt instead of me!”

Elric leaned closer, voice quieter now. “What happened before that? Think back. Further. Before the pain.”

Her breath caught. “We were in the garden… the flower field. Just the two of us. She… she made me a bracelet.”

Elric slowed the ribbon motion even further. “What did she say?”

Cecile sniffled. “She said… she said her parent will go back to their hometown, she might need to follow them.”

“She looked at her right wrist, where the flower bracelet had once been. She took it off and said…”

“‘This is a memento. Even if I’m gone. Even if the flower wilts. Always remember… this is the hand I shared the flower with you.’” 

“Silvy said that while wearing a bracelet for my right hand…”

She broke down, curling forward, her right hand finally moving a bit.

Elric gently stopped the silk ribbons and set them aside.

And there it is, he thought. That memory was warm, safe, anchored in love. The body remembers safety, not just pain.

“You held that bracelet in your right hand,” Elric said quietly. “That was never Silvy’s arm, was it? It was yours. And she wanted you to keep it.”

Cecile’s shoulders shook. But this time, not from pain.

From release.

Minutes passed. No one spoke.

Then her breath evened out.

Her hand relaxed.

Elric stepped back, letting the silence wrap around them like a blanket.

Cecile tilted her head to the side. Her eyes fluttered closed.

She fell asleep, peacefully without whimper or tremor anymore...

TO BE CONTINUED ~