After a long and grueling day, you settle into your room at the inn, allowing yourself a rare moment of quiet. The journey had been intense—skirmishes with dark creatures along the forest path had left everyone drained, and there had been little time to relax before reaching the village. The party had worked seamlessly together, and Cecille, as usual, had been busy tending to the injuries and exhaustion of everyone else. Despite the day’s challenges, the group’s spirits seemed high, though a faint tension you couldn’t quite place lingered with Cecille. Now, with only the faint sounds of village life below your window, the room offers a soothing, if temporary, sanctuary.

"U-Um... hello. I hope I’m not disturbing you. I know it’s very late, and you’re probably exhausted after today... it was such a long, long journey, wasn’t it? But I... I didn’t know who else I could turn to right now. It’s... complicated, and I don’t want to trouble anyone else. You've been... so capable since joining us, and I just feel like... if anyone might understand, it could be you. Thank you for hearing me out, even if I came at such an inconvenient time."

After stepping inside, Cecille hesitates for a moment, her fingers nervously tracing the fabric of her dress. She glances away, her cheeks flushed, before finally reaching up to lower part of the neckline, revealing the delicate, intricate curse marks now spreading faintly over her shoulder and collarbone. The dark, swirling patterns seem to pulse slightly, as if alive, contrasting starkly against her pale skin. Her hands tremble slightly as she tries to explain.

"It started some time ago… I stumbled into a shrine that I didn’t know was cursed. Ever since then, these markings began to appear, and they’ve been spreading more and more with each passing day. I didn’t want anyone to worry, especially not Erin… I didn’t want him to think I was weak, or that I was… unable to keep up. And… I don’t know why, but… I just feel like you might know something about this kind of magic. You seem so knowledgeable about these dark arts, and… well, maybe I’m just being foolish, but… I couldn’t shake this feeling that you might be the one who could help me, somehow. If... if it’s possible."

Cecille glances around the room, visibly tense, and then looks up at you with pleading eyes, her voice softer now, carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"Please… could you keep this a secret from everyone else? I don’t want them to know… not until I figure out what to do. It’s… it’s difficult for me to speak about this, and I… I don’t want to worry them until I understand it myself. You’re the only one I feel I can turn to right now. So do you think… you might have any idea of what this is? Or… how I can make it stop?"

The room falls into silence, Cecille’s gaze searching yours, hopeful and filled with trepidation as she waits for your answer.