"Aleria deserves to forge her own path. And I promise you one thing: when I'm done unraveling this village's mysteries, her eyes will no longer inspire fear, but respect!"

My words seem to echo in the room. After a long moment, Ilya slightly nods. "You can bring the others back," he finally says.

I open the door, and the two women quickly rejoin us. Aleria steps forward hesitantly, her gaze shifting between her cousin and me.

"Ilya," she begins softly, "could we... could we borrow some of your clothes? For Sahar? He needs to cross the village and..."

"Your clothes would be perfect," Olga interjects, "but..." She looks at me thoughtfully.

"My face is too different from his," I complete.

A slight smile appears on Olga's face. "Actually, because of his condition, Ilya always keeps his face covered when he goes out. People even avoid looking at him, out of fear or superstition."

"I could hold your arm," Aleria suggests, "as if I were helping you walk. No one would find that strange coming from me."

I understand the implication - I'll have to play the role of a man weakened by illness. Ironic, considering my true strength. But it's a good plan. However...

"Are you sure it doesn't bother you?" I ask Aleria, trying to mask my embarrassment. "You'll have to stay by my side whenever I feel like visiting the village."

She tilts her head slightly, confused by my reluctance. "I don't see what could be awkward. I'm used to helping patients move around."

Ah. Of course. To her, I'm probably just another patient, likely far more harmless than she imagines behind this mask. This thought, strangely, helps me relax.

"Then I place myself in your care."

"Your trust deserves a truth in return," I declare, my voice carrying that quiet confidence that characterizes me.

I turn to Aleria. "Before revealing my secret, I'd like to confirm something. You use your powers every day to heal your cousin?"

She nods, her purple eyes betraying her curiosity.

"And the illness always returns?"

"Yes," she answers. "Usually, my healing is permanent. But with Ilya... every week, it's a new disease, always more complex."

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"I understand." I take a moment before continuing. "What I'm about to reveal might shed light on the situation. Like you, I possess a unique gift linked to the eyes."

"Like... me?" Aleria whispers, her face betraying a mixture of surprise and contained hope.

"When I truly desire it, I can exchange my natural eyes for what I call my mirror eyes. I've actually observed how you use your powers. Not just seen - I could perceive the very mechanism of your gift."

Her eyes widen in surprise, all trace of mistrust momentarily forgotten.

"If you'll allow me," I continue, turning to Ilya, "I can examine exactly what's happening. MirEye."

As I speak these words, my irises transform, becoming visible even through the darkness of my mask - two broken mirrors with silver reflections, their fractal patterns glowing with supernatural light.

I stare at Ilya through my mask, my mirror eyes glowing in the darkness. His soul appears clearly before me, chained by a malevolent aura that intertwines around it like a snake around its prey.

"I understand now why your healing fails, Aleria. Your cousin is under a curse."

"A curse?" She steps forward, her purple eyes shining with curiosity. "Why can't I treat it? My powers can usually..."

"It's different," I interrupt with a gentleness that contrasts with the gravity of my words. "A disease or injury affects the body. What I've seen goes beyond that - the curse clings directly to his soul. As long as his soul remains in this physical shell, the curse will persist. That's why even when you made his organs disappear and reappear, the dark aura remained."

"How can we break it?" asks Olga, her fingers gripping the back of a chair.

"The darkness of this curse testifies to its power. Normally, the death of the one who cast it would be enough to break the spell. But in this case... Even if we eliminate the responsible party, the curse will only disappear temporarily. After a month, it will become autonomous and regain its hold."

Silence falls over the room. Olga collapses into her chair. Ilya lowers his eyes.

"But," I raise my head, my voice carrying natural assurance, "I will find the one who cast this curse. I will defeat them. And afterward... I'll send you to a place where someone trustworthy can treat this kind of curse. The journey will take between two and three weeks, but there, you'll find the help you need."

After my words, a silence settles - not one of doubt or fear, but the kind that naturally follows a truth that rings true.

"It's incredible," Ilya whispers, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I shouldn't trust a masked man, and yet..."

"We haven't had hope for so long," adds Olga, squeezing her husband's hand.

"To start," I resume, "I'll wear your clothes, Ilya. With your permission, I'll use them to conduct my investigation in the village."

He nods. "Of course."

"Meanwhile, gather all the archives that might be useful to us." I turn to them. "Let's meet tonight at Jasper's. We'll establish a more detailed plan."

Aleria, who hasn't stopped observing me, silently nods. In her purple eyes shines a new light - that of possible change.

"Well, let's start with the first sweater," declares Olga, opening the wardrobe.

Ten minutes later, I stare with some disbelief at Olga who returns, again, with another garment. I've lost count of how many sweaters already cover me.

"You know, I'm not particularly sensitive to cold," I try, my voice slightly muffled by the scarf Aleria has just wrapped around my neck.

"No, no, it's not enough," Olga mutters, searching the wardrobe again. "We need at least two more sweaters."

I shoot a desperate look at Ilya who, comfortably seated on his bed, gives me a small sign of encouragement. His smile says it all - he clearly gave up long ago on discussing clothing decisions with these women.

"And here's the neck warmer!" Aleria exclaims triumphantly, rising slightly on her tiptoes to adjust it around my face.

"I'm starting to look like a bear," I mutter, my arms spreading involuntarily under the thickness of the clothes.

"Oh, wait!" Olga suddenly brightens. "I forgot the second coat!"

"The... second?"

"And besides," adds Aleria, adjusting my hat with a mischievous smile, "if you don't fear the cold, you shouldn't fear the heat either."

"That's a... peculiar reasoning for a doctor," I sigh, resigned, while they busy themselves bundling me up further.

We finally leave the house, my mask barely visible under the multiple layers. Aleria carries Belyy, visibly amused by the situation. She slips her arm under mine, guiding me in a slow and measured walk.

"More slowly," she whispers. "Ilya can never walk fast."

I slow down even more, I who can cross snowstorms without flinching, reduced to waddling like a penguin under the supervision of a young girl who has to lift her head to talk to me. The realization suddenly hits me - I'll have to endure this dressing ritual for every outing.

Before I can express my dismay, a gathering near the well catches my attention. The same well I had noticed earlier in the day. Aleria's face tenses slightly.

"Could we get closer?" I whisper. "I'd like to see what's happening."

She nods, but her hand tightens imperceptibly on my arm. "It's the sacred purge," she breathes. "Rastaino, the village chief, is there.”