What did that mean?
Did it mean that since he had taken over that body, the original owner, Kirix Eseldor, could never return?
Could that possibly make sense?
Knowing full well that the body had its own rightful owner, the evil spirit shamelessly declared that he had taken possession of the man’s flesh.
She did not know the full circumstances—why the evil spirit had circled around Kirix Eseldor, or what he intended to do after stealing his body—but she could say one thing for certain.
This was an absurdity.
It was a wicked deed that should never have come to pass.
Ayesha sharply cried out.
“Get out of that body this instant!”
“And why should I? Do you know how long I have waited for this day?”
The evil spirit retorted.
Because it was a sickroom where the patient stayed and the fire was kept strong, the heat was almost suffocating, yet Ayesha felt an untimely chill.
Cold sweat ran down her spine.
Unable to approach the evil spirit, nor able to turn and flee, Ayesha caught her breath as it blocked her throat.
She had boldly commanded him to leave that body, but she had no idea whatsoever how to deal with that evil spirit.
What should she do?
What was she supposed to do now?
Because the man’s trust in her had been firm and unwavering, Ayesha had not been able to bring herself to confess the truth.
That she was not, in fact, a spirit medium.
Moreover, she had never believed that the day would truly come when Kirix Eseldor would have his body stolen by an evil spirit.
She was merely a reporter for a third-rate magazine who had come, pretending to be a spirit medium, to dig up an interesting scoop from the secret rumors surrounding House Eseldor.
1. The Curse of House Eseldor
“Ayesha, have you ever heard about the tragedy of House Eseldor?”
It was the most drowsy time after a meal.
Ayesha, who had been dozing off at her desk with a blank sheet of manuscript paper spread out before her, was suddenly addressed by the editor-in-chief who had come over.
“Esel… House Eseldor?”
Ayesha, snapping awake, rummaged through her memory and squeezed out the scant information she had.
“Isn’t that the family that supposedly has some old royal blood mixed in?”
“That’s right. It was a very long time ago, but they were once a distinguished house with royal lineage mixed in.”
“And?”
“There is a very interesting story about that family.”
“You said it was a tragedy?”
“Ah, for that family it is a tragedy. For us, it is an interesting subject that will make good material for an article.”
The editor-in-chief shrugged.
Ayesha thought for a moment, then firmly pressed her lips together and nodded.
From the perspective of a magazine company that made money by selling other people’s circumstances, he was right.
The more tragic the story, and the more sordid it was, the more the article was worth money.
“Ayesha, do you believe in God?”
The topic suddenly veered in an unexpected direction.
Ayesha tilted her head.
“God? No, I don’t believe.”
“Why don’t you believe?”
“Because I have never seen God. I only believe in what I see with my own eyes.”
At her answer, the editor-in-chief let out a hollow laugh.
“Ayesha, do you know which war in history caused the greatest loss of human life?”
“Religious wars. I know.”
“Countless people lost their lives fighting over God. But if God does not exist, then what on earth did those people sacrifice themselves for?”
“For the advancement or gain of someone who used God as a hostage. God is something created by human desire. Before humans existed, there was no God either.”
“My, I never knew our young reporter was such a staunch atheist. It is unexpected, but in a way, isn’t it rather fortunate? At least there will be no chance of you backing out in fear before you even try.”
Ayesha avoided the editor-in-chief’s eyes and briefly pursed her lips.
What kind of story was this, to bring up the expression of backing out in fear?
Moreover, those words were downright rude to her, who was diligently working, going out to cover stories in search of material.
Ayesha brought the editor-in-chief’s purpose, which had strayed to the side, back to the point.
“But you were talking about House Eseldor—why did the topic suddenly change to God?”
“Ah, there is a rumor that the tragedy of that family is due to a curse sent by God.”
A curse from God?
Wasn’t that precisely the kind of absurd nonsense that only appeared in novels?
But if she showed her disbelief in front of the editor-in-chief, there was no telling what side path the conversation might take again.
Instead of asking where in the world such a thing could happen, Ayesha continued to draw out the main point.
“What kind of curse?”
“Ayesha, how much do you know about the head of House Eseldor?”
“Nothing at all.”
“Still, you must have seen or heard something.”
“I did read in the newspaper recently that the son had succeeded to the family. Now that I think of it, it passed by very quietly. Usually, when inheriting a family of that scale, there is all sorts of noise among siblings, but House Eseldor…”
The young master of House Eseldor, Kirix Eseldor, was an only son.
There were no siblings to fight over the spoils.
“That family is famous for being extremely sparing with children, aren’t they? Whether daughters or sons, they barely manage to have just one heir generation after generation, so there are no disputes over property, and that vast fortune has come down intact without being lost.”
“Indeed.”
“Let me see—the current new lord of Eseldor cannot be older than his mid-twenties at most… Then the former lord must be fifty at the very most.”
The editor-in-chief counted on his fingers.
“He is neither swept up in the rashness of youth nor sunk into the lethargy of old age, but at the prime of life, with just the right experience and vigor to lead the family. And yet, before even a few years had passed since his son became an adult, he handed over that great position and vanished into the back alleys of history in an instant.”
“So?”
“Ayesha, isn’t it strange that a vigorous man in his fifties handed over the family to his child early and stepped back?”
Well.
She had not thought it strange.
To be more precise, she had no leisure to think about such things.
Originally, House Eseldor was a family that rarely showed itself publicly compared to its fame, and little was known about it.
It had existed mysteriously for a long time, and that mystery had now become a convention.
How could an outsider pretend to know anything about a family she did not even know well?
She merely saw a short article in the newspaper and let it pass.
That was how everyone in the world was regarding House Eseldor.
“I don’t know. Do you know something?”
“This is information I happened to obtain, but… they say no one in that family lives a healthy long life? Either they die early, or if they live somewhat long, they all go mad.”
Ayesha was dumbfounded and asked back.
“They go mad?”
“Yes, and hearing that story made me understand. The former lord did not want to hand over the family at an early age—he had no choice but to hand it over. Because he was not sound enough in mind to lead the family and rule the estate.”
“…Are you saying there is a hereditary mental illness in House Eseldor? But I don’t quite see what that has to do with a curse from God.”
“Finding that out is precisely the part you must do now, Ayesha.”
Ayesha fell silent.
Surely he was not telling her to infiltrate that mansion?
But how could she possibly get into a family famous for being so closed off?
“I heard through the grapevine that the family is secretly looking for a capable spirit medium.”
“A spirit medium?”
This was the problem with a third-rate magazine that barely scraped by on sensational articles that appealed to primal curiosity.
It brought up such an absurd subject and thrust it at her.
Still, if asked why she had joined the company, it was because this was the only magazine that had hired Ayesha, a woman, as a reporter.
“Doesn’t this feel like a good opportunity to get close to House Eseldor?”
“So you are telling me to pretend to see ghosts? I don’t even believe in ghosts.”
She did not believe in God, so there was no way she would believe in ghosts.
But the editor-in-chief replied shamelessly.
“If you can bring back a scoop, then you should pretend to be possessed by a ghost, not just pretend to see one.”
The editor-in-chief pushed her on the back.
“Go, Ayesha.”
***
The small, poorly funded magazine, while ordering Ayesha on a long business trip, cut the expenses to an absurd degree under all sorts of pretexts.
But asking for more expenses would have made the company’s financial situation, obvious even to her, too plain to ignore, and covering the shortfall in travel funds herself would have been too much for the pocket of the youngest reporter who had not been employed long.
In the end, Ayesha chose a forced march: squeezing into a narrow shared carriage every day, suffering through a day-long jolting ride, and when night came, sleeping in a old, dark inn.
Because the letter coordinating the visit date with House Eseldor had specified the expected arrival date so tightly, she had no leisure to delay even a little.
