Chapter 60: 47 - Illusion II
Something was wrong.
That was the first thought that struck me the moment I stepped into Professor Helena’s room. A prickling unease slowly worked its way through me, a premonition that wasn’t ready to speak. But before I could even begin to understand it, the door behind me closed on its own—then vanished.
It blended into the wall as if it had never been there.
I turned quickly. No door.
Just a smooth, perfect wall.
My chest tightened.
Still trying to remain calm, I followed Professor Helena, who walked lightly as if all of this was part of her daily routine. Her room was obsessively symmetrical.
Crystals, jewelry, and cat ornaments were all arranged neatly, as if every object had been meticulously tested for its angle of inclination.
"Not surprised by what you just saw?" she asked casually, her eyes teasing me as if testing my reaction.
"Not really. I’m used to it," I replied flatly. It was half a lie.
She smiled. In an instant, her old body changed. Wrinkles disappeared, her face became younger, beautiful, almost resembling Azalea, her younger sister. The transition was smooth, but full of warning.
"Don’t tell anyone, okay?" she said softly, but the threat in her tone was clear. She didn’t want to be compared to other students, especially lowerclassmen.
I only nodded politely, standing straight in front of a chair, waiting for permission to sit. Veylith knew etiquette.
"Come on, don’t be shy. Sit down," she said, gesturing.
I obeyed, half-hesitantly, sitting down slowly. I maintained my composure, controlling my breathing. She observed me like a researcher evaluating a living experiment.
"The Veylith lineage is indeed the most polite, isn’t it?" she said.
"Family tradition," I replied briefly. She only smiled. Then, her tone changed.
"Alright. Let’s get to the heart of the matter. Ready?"
I wasn’t, but I nodded anyway. Truth never asks for time.
Helena raised her hand. A crystal appeared, looking like a glass hologram. "Mytheia," she said. It was an observation tool—a living CCTV that tracked souls and existence.
The recording played. In it, I stood alone, muttering incoherently. But suddenly, the me in the recording turned around. The footage immediately glitched, wavy.
"This tool cannot lie about reality. That place should be inaccessible to students. But you... you were already there."
Helena’s voice was calm, but the pressure was increasing.
I nodded slowly.
"Good. Kairi, during this process, I want you to be honest. Can you?"
I nodded again.
"Good. My question: Do you feel like there’s a part of your memory that’s... missing? Something you don’t realize is empty?"
I looked at her blankly. "No. I think my memory is complete."
"Is that so," her tone was disbelieving. "Unfortunately, I have a tool to test lies."
Helena leaned back, her fingers clasped together on the table. She wasn’t surprised; she was waiting.
"Alright," she continued. "Let me explain the complete situation."
She conveyed the information as if she were peeling back layers of reality.
"There was a student who broke into a forbidden room. Killed the guardian creature. Sealed the room with a forbidden spell. Was found unconscious, but not asleep. The Healer diagnosed it as ’hibernation,’ not a coma. They were taken home and cared for by their own father—the most prominent healer in Ains Ein Doa."
The story was familiar. Too familiar.
Wasn’t that me?
"You don’t remember anything, do you?" she asked.
I hesitated. "Only a little."
"Don’t lie, Kairi." Her voice locked onto me.
I was stunned. She knew. She really knew.
"Alright. I don’t know for sure. But I’m willing to help resolve this."
"There’s no ’maybe.’ This is about Aethelgarten’s reputation. And you, as a student."
Helena’s tone was now sharp. "I don’t care who you are now. But all of this is related to that incident."
What did she mean?
"Isn’t it obvious that I am Kairi?"
"Stop bluffing. I knew from the start you weren’t an ordinary student. You... you’re not the original Wicked Witch, are you?"
The world suddenly felt cold. My breath hitched. "Wicked Witch"? What did she mean?
Her eyes locked onto mine, searching, piercing.
"Sorry... I don’t understand," I said softly.
Without saying anything, Helena took something from her desk: a small object. It was Mytheia, a crystal with a trembling, unstable light reaction. Its pulse was like the uncertain beat of my own soul.
Something about the truth was being revealed.
"So, you don’t really understand yet? Fine, I’ll explain the complete situation," Helena said. She turned off the recording. Her voice was flat, as if reciting an event familiar to her.
"There was a student who broke into a forbidden room. Killed the guardian with magic they shouldn’t have possessed. Sealed the portal with an ancient spell. Was found in a condition like sleeping... but too perfect to simply be unconscious."
"’Hibernation,’ said the healer. But the diagnosis was never confirmed. So the student was taken home—cared for by their own father, a great alchemist whom even the world respected. He said: the child had been cursed. He then bestowed a power called Primordial Recovery, so that the curse wouldn’t spread.
And after that... he left. Vanished."
I heard every word, recognized every pause. And there was only one conclusion.
That was me, wasn’t it?
My thoughts jolted back, but before I could pretend to be confused, Helena continued:
"You don’t remember anything, do you?"
I took a breath. "I only remember a little."
"Don’t lie, Kairi. Please don’t evade."
Our eyes met. There was no anger on her face, only observation.
And that was more terrifying.
"Alright. Maybe I can help you solve this case."
"There is no maybe. This concerns Aethelgarten. And you."
She leaned forward, her voice lowered but heavier.
"You might feel like you don’t know who you are now. But whoever you are... this is related to that day."
"...Isn’t it already clear that I am Kairi?"
She smiled thinly, but it wasn’t a reassuring smile.
"Don’t bluff. I’ve known this since you first entered the academy."
She stared straight at me.
"You’re not the real ’Wicked Witch,’ are you?"
The room suddenly froze. My head was empty. My breath caught. I tried to answer in the only way that made sense.
"Sorry, I don’t understand what you mean."
Helena didn’t respond. She picked up the object from the table. It was Mytheia.
The crystal glowed, but wavered. The light flickered erratically, as if hesitant to recognize who I was.
"Interesting..." she whispered. "According to Mythra, the owner of this body should no longer exist. If they did, it would surely be filled by another soul."
My eyes narrowed.
She knew. She knew too much. Even things that I myself had erased from the narrative.
"What is the ’Wicked Witch,’ actually?"
"Ah... you finally ask."
The tone of her voice changed. Not a lecturer, not a law enforcer. More like a writer rereading their created character—with an almost personal hatred.
"She is an enemy of the system. Disregarding hierarchy. Treating social status as a joke. Insulting the witches of Aethelgarten, even the academy itself. But... she was very clever. Too clever. So I gave her that name—’Wicked Witch.’ Because she would change everything, even if it meant burning with this world."
I nodded slightly. "That sounds... noble."
"True. But also dangerous. If the association knew, she could be sentenced to death."
Helena looked at me again, deeper.
"What made me suspicious... was that you didn’t react when you first entered this room. Even though this is your first time. As it is for the original owner of this body."
"Everyone has been manipulated, Kairi. Not overtly. But enough for everyone to consider your existence... natural. Normal. Even though you are not her. And she is not you."
