—The False Accusation

The air split apart with a sudden crack, a fine tremor flooding into their very bones.

As the aftershock ebbed, the staircase beneath their feet was gone.

In its place stretched a pall of gray-white mist—cold, damp, heavy with the scent of soil and rotting leaves.

Ellie stared ahead, her heart lurching to a halt.

"How... how are we back here?" she whispered, disbelief and dread tangled in her voice.

Before them lay the familiar village of Mistvale: low stone cottages, winding paths, the ancient oak at the gate...

Lycanth stood beside her, every muscle taut. His hand gripped the staff so tightly that his knuckles whitened.

His gaze swept the haze, voice low and grim.

"This isn't real. The energy here... it feels wrong. More like a memory reshaped into a projection."

---

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

[Trial Code: Echo's Nest]

[Submodule VIII: Twisted Mistvale — Unlocked]

[Memory Fragment Integrity: 70% — 'The Calamitous Star' stirs, The False Accusation]

A chill closed around Ellie's chest. She would never forget the shadows of this place—the place that had once suffocated her.

She was about to search for LuLu when a familiar quarrel rose from within the fog.

"It wasn't her fault!" Her grandmother's voice, old yet unyielding.

Ellie froze, breath caught. She followed the sound, Lycanth at her side, eyes sharp and watchful.

Through a blurred window she saw it: her young parents locked in fierce argument with her grandmother. In the corner, a small girl curled up tight—LuLu, no older than seven or eight.

"You don't understand, Mother," her father said wearily. "Since the day she was born, nothing's gone right. The crops fail, the livestock die, your daughter-in-law is sick..."

"It's her curse!" Her mother's voice cracked sharp as glass, slamming the table with bloodshot eyes. "She carries the Seven Killings in her chart. She's earth-born, I'm water-born—earth overcomes water! She's my doom!"

Little LuLu bowed her head, clutching her knees. She didn't cry. She didn't argue. It was as though she had long grown used to such blame.

But Ellie saw it—the pain buried deep in those young eyes. The kind that whispers you were born a mistake.

Memories rushed in:

The neighbor's calf died—her fault.

The village well dried up—her fault.

Her mother fell ill—still her fault.

Whatever misfortune struck, it always landed on her shoulders, because her fate carried the mark of an "ominous star."

Lycanth murmured, "Ellie, it's only an illusion."

"No," Ellie's voice shook. "This is my memory. It all happened."

---

The fog writhed, and the scene shifted.

In the village square, children circled little LuLu.

"Calamitous star! Stay away from us!"

A stone struck.

"You're a curse!" another shouted.

Sharp rocks cut her arm, blood welling.

LuLu kept her head down, neither crying nor resisting, letting their scorn rain upon her.

Ellie's chest felt split by blades. She longed to shield that girl, but her body would not move. She could only watch.

Lycanth growled, fury burning in his eyes, yet even he knew: this was the past. Strength could not rewrite it.

The scene warped again.

LuLu hid inside the hollow of the old oak, weeping in silence. She pulled a scrap of charcoal and drew stars across the bark—one after another—tiny sparks to guard her through the night.

"What is she doing?" Ellie whispered.

"Seeking her own light," came a low voice.

Trial Cat emerged from the fog, its eyes glowing with a gentle radiance.

"These are the memories you buried," it rasped, words cutting like blades.

Lycanth stepped in front of Ellie, eyes hard. "Why force her to relive this?"

"Because to leave the labyrinth, courage alone is not enough. She must face her guilt," the cat replied.

The mist shifted again.

This time, LuLu clawed desperately at fate: collecting "lucky stones," stepping carefully to avoid "inauspicious spots," sneaking out at night to practice secret charms against misfortune. Yet no matter how she struggled, calamity found her still.

"It was never your fault." The cat's sharp gaze pinned Ellie. "You were shackled by false accusations."

Ellie's throat tightened. "But the disasters really happened."

"Related, not caused," the cat said softly. "The Seven Killings is not disaster, but power. Earth is not curse, but foundation. They misread you out of fear."

The fog swirled, showing yet another fragment: LuLu alone in the night, coaxing blossoms to open with earth's strength, nudging stones to move. Gifts that should have been wonder—dismissed instead as omens of evil.

Lycanth's eyes softened. "So this is where your command of earth began... It was never a curse."

The cat inclined its head. "You could not choose the hour of your birth. But you can choose your path. Ellie—you must walk out of this darkness."

Ellie gazed at the crying child, realization piercing through. All along, she had punished herself for others' fears, taking baseless blame as truth.

Trial Cat spoke softly.

"You cannot mend their prejudice. You can only choose to forgive."

The fog surged, twisting into shadows woven of accusation and blame.

Her mother's face, her father's voice, the villagers' pointing fingers—all merged into a legion born of fear and pain.

Lycanth tensed, muscles coiling. Claws and fangs glimmered in the dim haze, ready to strike—yet he held back.

Instead, he stood guard at Ellie's side, his restrained fury a shield around her.

The first shadow emerged, shaping into her mother's form.

Her eyes were cold, yet her lips trembled.

"It was my fault..." she whispered, her voice like shards of glass scraping the night, steeped in pain and hesitation.

"Child, I cast my fears onto you—please forgive me."

Tears welled in Ellie's eyes. She choked out:

"I forgive you."

Her voice was fragile, trembling, but true.

The phantom mother flickered, her edges thinning into mist.

The second shadow stirred—a father's back, hunched within the gloom, his shoulders quivering.

"I never stood with you," his voice rasped, heavy as stone breaking under years of silence.

"I should have protected you. Instead, I left you to suffer alone... I failed you."

Ellie reached out, as if to touch the figure already lost to time. Her reply rang steadier than before:

"I forgive you."

This time, strength laced her words, not tears.

The father's shape crumbled, dissolving like sand in the wind.

Then came the third shadow—countless villagers fused into one. Their cold laughter, the pelting stones, the jeers—all rose together until they became a single, eerie chorus:

"It was our fault... We turned fear into harm, and laid it upon you. We wronged you."

The chant reverberated through the Mistvale fog like a spell.

Ellie lifted her head, the weight in her chest burning away into resolve.

"I forgive you all."

Her words thundered, fierce as an oath.

The mist convulsed, then unraveled, as if the world itself exhaled in relief.

The hollow of the old oak appeared once more. Charcoal stars etched on its walls gleamed, each one sparking alight like true constellations—gentle, stubborn, enduring.

The cat padded forward, tail raised, beckoning Ellie closer.

"This light—you created it yourself. Only by letting go will the door respond." Its tone softened, touched with rare approval.

From the hollow's depth, starlight gathered, weaving into a door that had never been there before. Golden threads shimmered across it, patterns spun from time and memory.

Ellie turned back once, watching the village dissolve—the blame, the pain, all crumbling like dust scattered by night's wind.

She exhaled softly, whispering to herself:

"I am not a curse. I am not a Calamitous Star. I am Ellie—and I walk my own path."

Lycanth lowered his claws and fangs, though the fire of protection still burned in his gaze.

"Whatever lies beyond this door," he said firmly, "I walk with you."

Ellie reached out and pushed the door of light.

Blinding brilliance swept across everything, rewriting the world.

And within that radiance, she glimpsed the little girl in the tree hollow lift her head at last, a smile breaking free.

---

[SYSTEM NOTICE]

Submodule VIII Completed

Reward: Memory Fragment +15%, Mental Burden -1

Warning: Next Submodule — will involve "Deception"

Risk Level: ☆