Once upon a time, there was a small, isolated village hidden behind high mountains, vast plains, and farmlands adorned with gardens. At its center stood a large white church, a place where people would gather, claiming to rid the village of witches by burning them alive, as they allegedly believed. The villagers lived in constant fear and dread of witches, their paranoia rooted deep in the village's history. The winds whispered through the tall trees, carrying with them an eerie sense of anticipation, as if the very earth itself trembled beneath the weight of their fear.
Over time, witches seemed to vanish from the area, ushering in a seemingly peaceful era. The sun rose every morning without incident, and life began to take on a familiar rhythm. But on one bright day, like any other, ten-year-old Emilia Hans leapt out of bed, her excitement bubbling over. She ran as fast as she could in her small white dress, her hair cascading down to her shoulder blades in a gentle wave. The light morning breeze caught her dress, sending it fluttering around her as she darted toward her Aunt Mary Hans, who, as usual, was awake early to feed the animals on her husband John's farm. John, meanwhile, was plowing the fields in preparation for the new season, the rhythm of the plow cutting through the earth.
While crossing the cornfield, Emilia felt a strange sensation, as though piercing eyes were watching her from afar. She stopped for a moment, her heart racing, but the feeling was fleeting. The wind had suddenly died, and the usual sounds of the birds seemed to fall silent, as if the world itself held its breath. Unsure of the source, she continued her joyful run through the vast, endless field, her face glowing with an innocent and radiant smile. Her blue eyes sparkled brightly, reflecting the light of the sun, and for a moment, the world around her seemed to stand still, as though nothing could ever harm her.
Emilia (excitedly): "Auntie! Auntie!"
Mary (with surprise): "What's wrong, Emilia? Haven't you changed your clothes yet?"
Emilia: "Auntie! I saw him again!"
Mary (with concern, her voice softening): "Are you sure about this?"
Emilia (growing even more excited): "Yes, Auntie! It was the same dark figure again!"
Raymond Hans, leaning on his shovel and glancing at his daughter with a mix of exhaustion and skepticism, scoffed. His eyes narrowed, and the weight of a hidden, uncomfortable past seemed to linger behind them, though he tried to mask it.
Raymond (mockingly): "Don't worry, little one. You must have been imagining things."
Emilia (her excitement fading slightly, her voice tinged with doubt): "But Dad, what if it's the Wish Goblin?"
Raymond (calmly, but with a sarcastic edge): "Did your aunt fill your head with goblin stories again?"
Mary, feeling the weight of her brother's disapproval, quickly averted her golden eyes from him. Indeed, she had been the one to plant the idea of the Wish Goblin in Emilia's mind, though she was beginning to question the wisdom of it now. The soft rustling of the corn seemed to echo her own uncertainty.
Emilia, unable to hide her growing concern, continued to jump around her father, trying to convince him that what she had seen was real, that it wasn't just her imagination. She felt the warmth of the sun on her skin, but her heart raced with unease.
Raymond extended his hand, ruffling her hair with a forced smile, though there was an unmistakable edge of irritation in his voice. His tired eyes darted nervously around, avoiding her gaze.
Raymond: "I've had enough of the sun's heat and the day's toil. Go now and play with Zina. Understood?"
The little girl, her enthusiasm drained by her father's dismissive tone, nodded reluctantly. A heavy sense of disappointment washed over her, as though her energy had been drained from within. Her feet dragged as she turned to walk away, casting a quick, hopeful glance back at her father, her innocent eyes silently pleading for understanding. But Raymond's stern glare met hers, and she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. The weight of his gaze made her feel small, as though she were no more than a child, dismissed and forgotten. Silently, she hurried back to the house, her head hanging low in defeat.
Mary, troubled by her brother's reaction, turned to him with a puzzled expression, her voice laced with concern. The tension in the air seemed palpable, and her hand trembled slightly as she clutched the hem of her apron.
Mary: "Didn't you say you had sealed that cursed thing? Why has it appeared again?"
Raymond hesitated, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, his movements slow and deliberate. A cold wave of dread surged through him, tightening in his chest. He glanced around nervously, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Raymond: "It should have disappeared. It's been over nine years since she left. I don't understand why it's still here. And for heaven's sake, Mary, stop reading goblin stories to Emilia, even if they're just fiction. That child could expose us with her talk at any moment. I don't want to end up burned alive in front of the church."
Mary's face paled, her voice trembling with fear. The wind picked up once more, and the distant sound of birds chirping filled the silence between them, a stark contrast to the dark thoughts racing through her mind.
Mary (with extreme tension): "What should I do then?"
Raymond (speaking with a forced calmness, though his voice betrayed his worry): "Convince her that what she sees is nothing but dreams—or perhaps it's Mark—until I find a solution to this tricky problem."