Hearing that name, Mary connected every piece of the puzzle at long last. A strange force seized her mind, dragging her memories back into the depths of that past ordeal once more.
She saw herself as a little girl, huddled trembling within the bushes on the night of the witch's judgment. Father Sereza stood imposing amidst the thin curtain of mist.
"Mayest thou pass unto a better realm... Administer punishment upon the witch this very instant!" The vicar's voice boomed like the shifting of a great mountain.
Upon his command, the holy monks gathered in a circle, chanting a melodious, haunting hymn.
Sereza choked back his grief at having to execute the witch who had once been like his own daughter, the girl he had painstakingly raised to be a light of faith. Yet she had turned her back on him, obsessing over the legendary arts of a new era.
The maiden wept bitter tears, knowing her final hour had come. Her tears cascaded onto the pyre beneath her feet. She raised her face to the gloomy sky, watching the thick clouds drift away to reveal the luminous moon. As the pale moonlight bathed her features, the maiden offered a radiant, joyous smile unto the gathered believers.
"O' my shining star~" she whispered, nodding in acceptance of the fate that awaited her.
The monks marched in a circle until one raised a burning torch high. As the final notes of the beautiful hymn faded into silence, the maiden stared down at the torch cast upon the wood at her feet.
"There is no Lord, no Devil, nor any spirits of the dark. I shall walk in the path of the star—never to return, never to look back, never to care. I drift into the abyss of night. Though there be no torch, nor bolt of lightning, to light my way, I still believe the path ahead shall lead me... to meet the light once more."
WHOOSH!
Flame erupted across the pyre, climbing her garments. As little Mary peeked from behind the bushes, Dorothy's scorched face suddenly turned, locking her burning eyes directly onto the child.
"And thou!" the witch proclaimed, her gaze piercing through the gloom. "Thou art the judge of all Caslette!"
"AAAAARGHHH~~!!" The girl shrieked as though beholding a phantom speaking directly to her soul.
In an instant, a man caught her frame as she collapsed onto the ground.
"Mary! What hath befallen thee!?" Edward's voice rang in her ears as her consciousness gradually returned.
The maiden found herself writhing upon the cold earth without knowing why. The surrounding crowd stared down at her, as did the vicar himself.
"May the Lord have mercy~ Mary, my child... What brought thee to this place?" Father Sereza hurried forward, stepping down to help hoist her up himself.
Mary's eyes darted frantically, wild with the terror of what she had just witnessed.
"I-I-I was possessed by something..."
Mary's tremulous words sent a wave of panic through the followers.
"Hath a witch possessed her!?" / "The witch's curse falleth upon her!" / "Or is she herself the witch!?" The crowd murmured in mounting dread.
Father Sereza leaned down, whispering into Edward's ear, "Bring her forth."
Though Edward feared for Mary's well-being, he dared not defy Sereza's direct command. The maiden was brought forward into the full view of the congregation.
"Edward, thou..." Mary managed to part her lips.
"Fret not, Mary. Father Sereza shall bring thee no harm..." Edward forced a comforting smile onto his face, though he knew not what would transpire.
Father Sereza opened his arms wide before her. "Come to thy father."
The maiden stepped trembling into his embrace. Upon holding her close, Father Sereza turned her gaze toward the edge of the cliff behind the post where Jesper was bound.
"Push him over. Liberate that vile spirit."
"No! No, no, no!!" Jesper thrashed his head, crying out for his wife. "Matilda!!"
Yet his wife merely accepted the vicar's supreme judgment. "I possess no authority to decide thy fate, Jesper... Pray forgive me." She stepped back into the crowd, severing all ties between them.
Jesper looked into Mary's terrified eyes, begging desperately. "I beseech thee~ I wish not to die!"
Under the crushing weight of the moment, another voice whispered against Mary's ear: "This is thy father's command, Mary. Do it."
Mary reached her hands forward, her fingers trembling just inches from the former knight's chest to push the wooden post over. Yet at the final second, her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground before Jesper.
"I-I cannot."
Before another word could be spoken, Father Sereza's calloused hand rested upon Marilyn's shoulder.
"I know my child would commit no such sin. My daughter is no demon... Unbind the man! We shall hold him captive, for I still perceive innocence behind those eyes. A witch is manipulating this man."
Hearing this, Edward rushed forward to unfasten the ropes, joined by three devout followers who seized the former royal guard.
"Edward, take Mary back to Mrs. Bishop's cottage using the church carriage. I must prepare quarters for Jesper."
After Sereza spoke, the young man guided the terrified maiden back. He offered endless apologies throughout the carriage ride. The maiden sat shivering, clutching her knees like a frightened chick in a coop, her mind having drifted far beyond the present. No matter where she looked, strange shadows seemed to glide alongside the carriage.
"I beg thy forgiveness, Mary... Regarding what transpired, I should have taken thee home far sooner."
"..." The maiden offered no reply.
"I know thou art angered and terrified, yet it hath come to pass."
"...A-Ah... A-Ah..."
Edward turned around upon hearing her voice, only to find Mary lying face down on the carriage floor, her body seizing violently.
"Mary!!"
Edward slammed the carriage to a halt, rolling her over, only to find blood pouring profusely from her nose. He quickly turned her onto her side to prevent her from choking.
Then, within her motionless eyes, a brilliant petunia-violet light erupted.
"I have waited long for thee... Marilyn." A mysterious male voice echoed out.
Amidst total darkness, the maiden opened her eyes, awakening from her temporary trance.
"The realm of streams ever welcometh those who come before."
As Mary regained her senses, she found herself standing upon the familiar apple hill where she had rested earlier that evening. The maiden looked around, sensing that no wind blew across this realm.
"Have I lost consciousness...?" she asked herself.
The leaves hung completely still, as though the entire landscape were preserved beneath a glass jar. The maiden took a step back, intending to walk toward Mrs. Bishop's home, but the earth before her suddenly heaved upward, blocking her path.
"Hey!! Mrs. Bishop! Anyone! Can anyone hear me!?"
"Strive to call out as thou wilt, yet no voice shall answer thee! Save for mine, heh-heh," a man's voice called out from afar.
Hearing this, the maiden spun around instantly.
Before her stood a slender young man walking across the lush green meadow. Locks of burgundy-red hair fell over his shoulders, framing round, petunia-violet eyes. He led a pitch-black stallion by its reins, a faint smirk gracing his lips as he spoke.
"Thy face appeareth remarkably familiar."
"And what might thy name be?" Mary demanded.
The young man bowed with a smile of mock warmth. "Forgive me, I can scarcely recall mine own name. Yet what matters far more is... thou hast come to possess that which once belonged to me. This place is a trial of faith~ Many a soul could not preserve their life after touching that relic. My first thought was that thou mightest be just another unfortunate maiden like the rest... Or could it be that divine grace hath chosen thee to fulfill this legacy next after... me?"
As he finished speaking, he raised his hand toward the luminous moon above. A brilliant beam of white moonlight cascaded down, striking Mary's eyes.
"Take care of yourself... We shall meet again, sooner or later."
The mysterious man's parting words lingered in the quiet air.