The room is quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. Elysia is seated at the table, carefully grinding herbs for her next lesson when the faint shimmer of magic catches her eye. A sigil—a glowing, intricate pattern of runes—appears in the air just above the table. She recognizes it immediately: the seal of the Magic Bureau.
Before she can react, the sigil pulses, and a scroll materializes, dropping gently onto the table. She pauses, glancing at Zen. He stands by the window, arms folded as he surveys the frost-covered landscape outside, but the tension in his shoulders tells her he's already noticed the message.
"Master," Elysia says quietly, drawing his attention.
He turns, his sharp gaze immediately locking onto the scroll. Without a word, he crosses the room, his expression unreadable as he takes the scroll in hand. The firelight casts shadows on his face, accentuating the lines of concentration as he breaks the seal and unrolls the parchment.
She watches as his eyes move over the text, narrowing ever so slightly. Zen says nothing at first, but the air in the room feels heavier, more tense. Whatever is written on that scroll, it's serious.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he speaks. "The Bureau has summoned us."
She straightens, setting the pestle down. "What's happened?"
"There's a case that requires immediate attention," he replies, his tone grave. "Forbidden magic—a teenager has been using a dangerous spell to prolong her mother's life. They believe she's attached some form of magical seed to the mother's chest… keeping her heart beating."
The weight of his words settles over her. Forbidden magic. The mere thought of it sends a chill down Elysia's spine. She's heard the warnings about such practices—dangerous, unpredictable, often with consequences far worse than the initial act. And now, she is being asked to confront it directly.
"How long has this been happening?" she asks, trying to keep her voice steady.
Zen rolls the scroll back up, his expression unreadable. "Long enough for the Bureau to be concerned. We're to leave immediately."
There's no time for hesitation. She rises from her seat, her thoughts racing as she gathers her things. The quiet atmosphere in the room is quickly replaced by a sense of urgency. She can feel it in the way Zen moves—efficient, purposeful, yet burdened with the knowledge of what they might face.
As she makes her way to the door, Elysia can't help but wonder: What would drive someone to such desperate lengths? And what will she find when she arrives?
---
The air around the house feels wrong. It's not just the unnatural stillness, but the way the very ground beneath her feet seems tainted by something malevolent. As she and Zen approach, her steps slow, weighed down by an oppressive presence that she can't quite explain.
The house, if Elysia can still call it that, looks as though it's been consumed by a monstrous, living thing. Vines and twisted branches creep along the walls, their dark green hues unnaturally vibrant against the decaying wood. The windows are completely covered, swallowed by thick foliage that has turned the interior into a dim, shadowy place.
When she steps inside, the first thing that hits her is the smell—sweet and rotten all at once, like flowers that have been left to decay. The source of the scent becomes clear the moment she enters the main room.
It's like stepping into another world. The walls, the ceiling, even the floor, are all covered in a dense tangle of plants. They twist and coil like living things, pulsing ever so slightly as if in rhythm with something deeper.
At the center of it all, lying on a bed half-consumed by the vegetation, is the woman.
A thick plant grows from the center of her chest, sprouting upward toward the ceiling. Its dark green stalk is covered in small, sharp leaves, and as her eyes follow its path, Elysia realizes that its branches have spread out, blanketing the entire room with tangled limbs. It's like a small forest has taken root here, suffocating everything beneath it.
Elysia steps closer, her breath catching in her throat as she notices the way the roots of the plant seem to beat in time with something deep within the woman. Her chest rises and falls ever so slightly, but it's the movement beneath her skin that draws her attention. The roots—thick and knotted—are pulsing, twisting just beneath the surface, as if they've become a part of her.
The woman's clothes—once a simple, light pajama-like robe—have been pushed aside by the growth of the plant, leaving her chest exposed. Elysia can see where the plant's roots have pushed through the fabric, crawling across her skin and embedding themselves deep into her body. The sight is both grotesque and fascinating, but there's something else that catches her attention—a strange expression on the woman's face.
The woman doesn't look sick, not like someone who has been bedridden for years should. There's no pallor to her skin, no signs of the wasting sickness she has seen in so many patients. But there's an unnatural stillness to her features, and something about the way her face is set—a deep sadness that lingers even in sleep—makes her stomach twist.
"Master… what is this?" Elysia asks, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Zen steps forward, his eyes scanning the scene with the precision of someone who has seen far too much in his lifetime. His expression is grave, but there's a sharp focus in his gaze—a determination to understand what lies before him.
"This… is the result of forbidden magic," he says quietly, stepping closer to the bed. His fingers hover just above the woman's chest, careful not to touch the pulsating plant. "It's more than just necromancy. This plant… it's feeding off her life force, keeping her heart beating, but at a terrible cost. It's entwined with her very essence."
She watches as Zen's eyes trace the dark vines weaving through the woman's chest. His face remains stoic, but there's a heaviness in the air that tells her how dire the situation really is.
"We need to be careful," he says, his voice calm but firm. "The magic keeping her heart beating… it's not natural. It's likely the only thing tethering her body to this world, but… she's already gone."
Elysia's heart sinks at his words. The mother—the woman lying there—wasn't alive in any real sense. The plant sprouting from her chest is only a cruel imitation of life.
"Then… what can we do?" she asks, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her.
Zen hesitates, his gaze lingering on the strange plant. "We'll need to sever the bond. But first, we have to understand the magic at play. This isn't ordinary forbidden magic… the girl used something powerful, something that's allowed this plant to take root in her mother's very essence."
She swallows hard, her mind racing. "So… there's no way to save her?"
Zen's expression remains stoic, his tone as steady as ever. "No. What we can do is extract the plant… to let her die peacefully as a human being."
His words settle heavily in the air, and before she can fully grasp their meaning, there's a knock on the door. It swings open to reveal two officers from the Magic Bureau, their expressions stern. One of them steps forward, gesturing to the girl standing behind them—a young teenager with clenched fists and eyes red from tears.
"This is her," the officer says, his voice gruff. "She's the one responsible for the magic keeping her mother alive."
The girl steps forward, glaring at Elysia and Zen with a mixture of defiance and desperation. The weight of her grief is palpable, and she can see the struggle in her eyes—the fight to hold on to the only family she has left, no matter the cost.
---
The officers leave the room, guiding her and Zen to the dining area. They inform her that, by law, this girl named Aria is a criminal for using dark magic, but the conversation must take place before any further action is taken.
The three of them now sit at the table, the heavy silence weighing on her. Zen sits next to her, his posture upright and composed, while across from her, the girl—Aria—sits with her arms folded tightly. She looks no older than fourteen, her short brown hair framing her tear-streaked face. Her hazelnut eyes are swollen from crying, her gaze flickering between anger and hopelessness.
The tension in the room is almost unbearable. Elysia glances at Zen, whose face is as unreadable as ever, and then back to Aria. The seconds stretch, thick with unspoken words, until the silence shatters.
"Don't kill my mother!" Aria suddenly bursts out, her voice trembling but fierce.
Zen's gaze hardens, his response swift and direct. "She's already dead."
"No!!" Aria screams, slamming her hands on the table. "She's alive! I saw her! Her heart is still beating!"
Zen remains calm, though the air around him seems to chill with the gravity of the situation. "What did you put inside her?" His voice is cold, deliberate. "Where did you get it? You're not a mage."
The sharpness in his words surprises Elysia, and a chill runs down her spine as she realizes the implication—Aria isn't a mage. She's just a commoner. She turns to the girl, trying to soften the tension, her voice gentle. "Aria… could you tell us the truth? We're only trying to help you."
Aria's lip quivers, and for a moment, it looks like she might break down. But instead, her fury surges again, her hazelnut eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Why? Why do you want to help now?"
Her voice cracks, and her fists tighten in her lap. "I asked for help before—I begged—I went to the Magic Association! I told them about my mother's illness, but they said it had nothing to do with magic. They told me to go to a regular doctor!"
Aria's words hit like a wave, each one a mixture of frustration and raw pain. Elysia feels a pang in her chest as she listens, realizing the depth of Aria's desperation.
"I wouldn't have gone to the mages if the doctors in town could have helped!" Aria's voice falters. "They said it was a disease that had no cure…"
Zen watches her closely, his face set in a deep, focused frown. Elysia senses that, despite his outward calm, he's absorbing every word, weighing the situation. Her heart aches as Aria's tears finally fall, her small body trembling under the weight of her grief.
"And then I met that man," Aria continues, her voice quieter now, almost a whisper.
"That man?" Elysia repeats, leaning forward slightly.
Aria's eyes flicker with fear and anger. "He told me there was a way... a way to save her."
Elysia exchanges a look with Zen, knowing that whoever this man was, he had given her false hope—and led her to commit an act she may never be able to undo.
"What did the man give you?" Zen asks, his voice low but firm.
Aria hesitates, her gaze dropping to the floor. "It's a seed. As small as a pumpkin seed, but... it's glowing red. And I can see it twitching. He told me I needed to place it on my mother's chest, let it grow, and eventually… she'd get better."
Zen's eyes narrow slightly, the weight of his next question pressing down on the room. "For a plant to grow, it needs to feed. What did you give it? Blood?"
The bluntness of his words sends a chill through Elysia. Zen already seems to know what this is, but it's Aria's reaction that truly unsettles her. Aria's face pales, eyes wide with fear as she stammers, "Y-Yes. But I didn't kill anyone! I swear!"
A knot of dread twists in her stomach. Aria's words tumble out in a rushed confession. "After I placed the red seed on my mother's chest, it… disappears inside her. And in its place, a small sprout grows. At first, I fed it with blood from animals."
Elysia feels her pulse quicken, horror creeping up her spine. Zen remains silent, letting the girl continue.
"Little by little, it needs more," she whispers, her voice shaking. "But one day… the root refuses the animal blood. It won't absorb it anymore. I think maybe it needs something stronger, but I don't want to kill anyone. So… I give it my own blood."
Elysia's breath catches in her throat. Instinctively, she reaches out and grabs Aria's hand, turning it over. Scars—faint and fresh—run up her wrists, marking her desperation. Some wounds still look raw, red against her pale skin.
Her emotions churn inside her—anger, sorrow, and a deep sense of helplessness.
"The Plant of Life," Zen mutters, his eyes narrowing in thought. "I've heard of it, but this is my first time encountering it."
Elysia glances at him, confusion bubbling up. "What is it, Master?"
He folds his arms, a grim look on his face. "It's a property of the devil's realm. This girl must have encountered a dark wizard."
The dark wizard... her mind wanders, recalling what she's learned about them. For mages like Elysia and Zen, magic is a gift bestowed by the spirits—beings of balance and harmony. But some, unsatisfied with what they have, seek more, breaking sacred boundaries and binding their souls to dark forces. These mages, who reject the holy spirits and embrace corruption, become what we call dark wizards. It was the dark wizards, or so the tales say, who massacred her entire family more than a decade ago, leaving her as the last of her lineage.
"If this truly is the Plant of Life," Zen's voice cuts through her drifting thoughts, snapping her back to the present, "then we need to pluck the root before it's too late."
"No! You can't!" Aria shoots up from her chair, her voice laced with anger and fear.
"Aria, please calm down," Elysia urges gently. Then she turns to Zen, her heart heavy. "Master, is there really no other way?"
"None." Zen's tone is cold and firm. "Ask yourself, Aria—why hasn't your mother woken up? You can't bring the dead back to life."
"But she's alive!" Aria protests, her voice breaking. "Her heart is beating, and… and her face isn't pale like when she was sick. The man said she would wake up like new."
"But not as your mother," Zen adds, his voice hard. "As a monster. She won't be human when she wakes."
"What do you mean, Master Zen?" Elysia asks, her voice low as confusion flickers in her mind. She glances at him, searching for an answer in the intensity of his gaze.
Zen sighs, his expression hard, but a flicker of empathy shines in his eyes. "Essentially, human beings are souls," he begins, his voice steady yet somber. "Our bodies are merely vessels meant to house the soul. When we die, the soul leaves, and the body becomes an empty shell. This 'Plant of Life'... it doesn't bring back the dead. It entangles the essence of life with something darker. It's not her mother being revived—it's a new entity taking root inside her, replacing her soul with something else."
His words hang heavy in the air, the oppressive silence stretching between them. Elysia feels the weight of the situation pressing down on her chest, the gravity of Zen's words sinking in.
She glances at Aria. Her fists are clenched tight on the table, knuckles white, her breath shaky as she struggles to process the truth.
Zen continues, his voice now quieter, yet no less intense. "The magic draws its power from blood, slowly transforming the vessel—her body—into something else. The plant feeds, grows, and creates a new creature within. And when it awakens… it won't be her mother. It'll be like the other monsters that wander this world. Creatures made of dark forces, twisted beyond recognition. It is no longer her mother in there."
Elysia swallows hard, her throat dry. Monsters—the grotesque beings that lurk in the shadows—are the very antithesis of life. They're the reason mages exist, to fight and protect against such horrors. But this… this is something closer to home. The thought of such a creature taking the place of someone's loved one feels like unimaginable cruelty.
She tries to speak, but the words don't come. Her mind reels, thinking of the countless monsters she and Zen have encountered—how each one was once something pure, twisted by the forces of darkness. To see that in the form of a mother, someone who should bring comfort and warmth… it chills her to the bone.
Aria's breath hitches, her wide, tear-filled eyes flashing with disbelief. "No! You're lying!" she yells, slamming her fists against the table. Her entire body trembles, her fury and anguish boiling over. Her voice cracks as she forces the words out, desperation filling the space between them.
Zen doesn't say a word. He simply stares at her, his eyes dark and unwavering, a storm of emotions hidden behind his calm exterior. There's something unnervingly still about him, as if he's already resigned to the harsh truth she refuses to accept.
Without another word, Aria pushes back from the table and storms out of the house, her footsteps echoing in the tense silence.
Elysia immediately shoots up from her seat, following her in a rush. "I'll bring her back!" she calls out to the Magic Bureau officers, who are standing by the main door, ready to chase after her. They hesitate, allowing Elysia to run after Aria.
---
Aria keeps running despite Elysia shouts for her to stop. Her breath comes in ragged gasps by the time she finally halts at the top of a low hill near her house. Aria stands there, her back to her, and she can see the tremor in Aria's shoulders as she cautiously approaches.
"Aria, are you okay?" Elysia asks gently, her voice almost a whisper, not wanting to break the fragile silence that surrounds them.
Aria doesn't turn to face her, her voice brittle as it cuts through the stillness. "She's not my real mother."
The words leave her confused, and she takes another step closer. "What?"
Aria lets out a shaky breath. "She told me once—she is my mother's best friend. My real parents die in a fire when I am five. After that, she takes care of me."
Elysia pauses, letting the weight of Aria's words settle between them. "You must have loved her deeply... enough to go this far, even risking everything to use dark magic."
Aria's shoulders sag further, as if she has been carrying a burden too heavy to bear for far too long. "It feels like it's my fault she gets sick... We didn't have much. She worked so hard, every single day, and eventually, her body couldn't take it anymore. She fell ill, and I—I couldn't afford to take her to a doctor. I tried so hard, but…"
Without thinking, Elysia steps forward and wraps her arms around Aria. Aria stiffens at first, but then leans into her, her tears soaking into her shoulder. "It's not your fault, Aria. Parents are supposed to care for their children, to give them what they need. She does everything she can."
Aria sobs quietly against her, her voice breaking as she speaks. "I think if I can bring her back... if I can just make her live again, I can repay her. I want to be a good daughter. To make her happy. I still want to be with her. I don't want to let her go..."
Her grief twists inside her, and she holds Aria tighter. She understands now—the desperation, the unbearable weight of guilt. The lengths Aria goes to aren't out of selfishness but out of love. Still, she knows there is no happy ending for that wish.
Footsteps crunch softly over the grass behind her, and she glances back to see Zen approaching, his expression grave yet calm.
"If you truly love her, the best thing to do is let her soul rest peacefully," Zen says, stepping beside Aria, his presence steady and calm. His gaze softens, though there's still that unwavering firmness in his eyes.
"Have you ever heard that after we die, the heavens reincarnate our souls into the next life? Sometimes, fate brings us back to the people we once loved," Zen continues, his voice deepening with a sense of something more profound. "That's why, in rare moments, you might remember flashes of your past lives when you meet certain people."
As he says this, his eyes shift toward Elysia, lingering longer than before, as if searching for something beneath the surface. There's an unfamiliar weight to his stare, a quiet intensity that makes Elysia's heart quicken. It's subtle, but she can feel it—the sense that he knows something she doesn't.
"But if her soul has been contaminated by dark forces, by the devil's energy, it will no longer be able to reincarnate," Zen says, his voice lowering as he turns his gaze toward Aria. "It will vanish from this universe entirely. Don't you want the chance to meet her again in the next life? I'm certain her soul hasn't left yet, trapped by the dark magic she used. It's stuck, unable to pass on to the heavens."
Aria shakes her head, her frustration bubbling over. "What's the point? There's no guarantee we'd even meet again, let alone recognize each other in another life."
Zen remains calm, his gaze distant as though recalling something from a long time ago. "The possibility still exists. It may feel pointless now, but when the time comes, if fate brings you together again, you'll be glad you let her go." His voice holds an almost ethereal certainty, like someone who has lived through that very pain.
For a moment, Elysia catches Zen glancing at herself, his expression soft but layered with something deeper—an emotion that tugs at her heart. It's a mix of sadness, longing, and loneliness, and yet there's relief there, too. It feels personal, intimate, as if he's speaking from experience, though she can't fully grasp the meaning behind it. But in that fleeting glance, something unspoken connects them, and she can't shake the feeling that there's more to Zen than he lets on.
"I understand..." Aria's resistance finally crumbles, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she wipes away her tears. "I, too, don't want her to become a monster... I don't want her to hurt anyone," she whispers, her voice shaking but resolute.
Zen gives a soft nod, stepping closer and gently patting her head, a rare gesture of appreciation from him. "You made the right choice," he murmurs, his voice calm but carrying a weight of understanding.
"However, undoing this curse won't be easy," Zen continues, his expression turning serious. "This magic comes from a demonic item. We'll need time. Time to make sure of a few things and to find the right spell to reverse it without causing further harm." He glances between Elysia and Aria, his brow furrows in thought. "I can't rush this. We need to ensure it's done correctly."
With that, they all agree it's best to return home for now. Aria, unfortunately, must go back into the custody of the Magic Bureau, as protocol demands. She doesn't protest, though the sadness in her eyes is undeniable.
"When the day comes," Elysia reassures her as the officers lead her away, "you'll join us again. We'll set things right." Aria gives a weak smile in return, her grief still evident but softened by a sense of reluctant hope.