act17side

Actually, someone as smoking hot as me has gotta be a rare sight in Iberia to begin with, right?

Uhh...

I don't know about that... but someone as confident as you, maybe.

Right...

It took spending some time here to realize that the place that I always called home doesn't really feel like home.

Are you still waiting for someone here, Mr. Elysium? It's already been several days, hasn't it?

Haha, not like I have a choice. That's just how things are in my line of work. Besides, I'd rather hang out in comfort here than that in primeval forest infested with bugs and Originium.

You're from outside then?

Oh, you can tell? Is it because of the vibe I give off?

Actually... uh... I guess you could say that?

What do you mean?

Like... the way you dress?

You know your stuff.

Gran Faro doesn't see a lot of visitors... There's not a lot of folks here, so everyone in town knows everyone else.

Besides... What with how close to the sea we are, not a lot of Liberi are willing to talk to Ægir these days.

Especially after the Inquisition started showing up more often.

Right...

I get you. I've been through similar stuff plenty of times.

Does this happen in other Iberian cities, too? Like in those prosperous ones I hear about in the rumors?

Not just in Iberia, kid. The way I see it, it's pretty much the same no matter where you go. Life's tough everywhere.

But I gotta say, some of the Ægirs I've met are a real handful. Just thinking about 'em gives me a headache. Wish I could beam all my common sense straight into their brains.

Which makes you pretty easy to get along with, by comparison.

Uhh...

Okay, now THAT's a face asking who'd ever want the common sense of a guy like me.

N-No it's not!

Sure, I look like an unemployed bum lazing about here 24-7, but I've actually come a loooong way and been through waaaaay too much.

So... you're an explorer, then? What's life like for the Ægir in other places?

Haha...

Not too bad.

Not too bad...

Mayor Thiago... You needn't come here every day.

I've been hearing some bad rumors lately. I'm worried about you guys, Amaia.

Bad rumors... You mean about the cultists?

But we're not just close to the sea, we're close to the Inquisition too, and the very heart of Iberia.

So how could there possibly be cultists here?

Who knows? Happens all the time in coastal towns though. Hardly peculiar at all.

Also... I heard someone saw a monster on the shore.

Did Old Pedri tell you that?

You know the kind of nonsense he goes on about when he hasn't had his drink.

You're a kind man, Thiago. I'm sure you're just worried about Jordi, the boy who works at the chapel.

I... I'm not a very sophisticated one though. Maybe you can put me at ease... help me sleep better at night.

These rumors are just rumors, right? The ghost ship, the cultists, the sea monsters?

The Inquisition hasn't let us go out to sea in a long, long time.

Right. Can't even remember how long... Eighty-four years? Eighty-five?

Try fifty or sixty. The Profound Silence happened in 1038.

Have you really been trapped on land for so long, in your memories? You aren't even that old. Have you been a prisoner of this place since before you were born?

If living in poverty counts as imprisonment, then yes, I've been a prisoner for a long, long time.

I haven't so much as looked at the sea since Marin died. I loathe it.

But you're not worried about the gossip, are you? You're worried about the Inquisition. And even more so about the Penal Battalion coming here to take away all the Ægirs.

*Sigh*, poor Thiago...

The Inquisition snuffed out the love of your life, an Ægir woman. Your anger and resentment is perfectly understandable, but be careful what you say. For everyone's sake.

...Maybe you're right.

Okay, I'll be careful. You always know more than the rest of us, anyway. So what've you been up to lately?

The same old. Doing my job as a third-rate translator in this frighteningly laidback seaside town.

That said, it's been months since a Messenger stopped by. All my drafts have been piling up, and it's giving me a headache.

*Sigh*... Translation! I've never even set foot outside this small town my whole life. Anything besides Iberian may as well be gibberish to me.

Hm, it's getting late.

Right, Jordi should be off work soon. I only hope that the Inquisition isn't gonna give the lad any trouble over that gossip, these next few days.

I'll see you later.

Be safe, Mayor Thiago.

...Cultists. Hm.

The young woman named Amaia ponders for a moment before turning her mind back to the papers, as always.

Ursine novels, Kazimierzian biographies, Leithanian poetry... even Sargonian folk tales.

All the lands of Terra lie before her as a thick pile of literature, each word waiting to be deciphered in a solemn, orderly manner.

The air is extraordinarily humid. She can't help but pinch the corner of the page.

The sensation of the sea...

'The waves continue to accelerate, and the winds are frightened. The corals line the sky, painting it a neon shade.'

'We will come to detest ourselves for not having wings.'

Are you finished with your work?

Ah, uh... yes.

As you can see, the chapel doesn't see a lot of visitors. I mostly just keep the place tidy.

Are you still waiting today?

Yeah. They should've been here by last week, but my superior did warn me that they're a weird bunch. So I guess being late is normal enough.

Still, it's hard to call that a good thing. But why would anyone choose to meet up in Gran Faro of all places?

Strange, right? I thought so, too. That's why I volunteered for the job when Misery brought it up.

Not that I expected to waste a whole month here. That's a hell of a long time to be on standby.

But... normally the Inquisition wouldn't have let outsiders like you in at all.

Because of how close it is to their command center?

Or... because it's close to the sea?

Maybe both.

I see...

So how did you make it here? I haven't traveled much, but even I can tell that Gran Faro is a backwater...

If you really wanna know, I could use someone to chat with. I'm dying of boredom over here.

Then if it's not too much trouble— Oh!

Sorry, I didn't realize it was so late. Uncle Thiago is waiting. I should head back to make dinner.

Family?

Uh... Something like that. He's the one who raised me.

Look, you don't have to be such a doormat just because you're an Ægir. When someone's kind to you, try to be more positive.

Uh, thanks... Mr. Elysium.

Gran Faro. It means 'the great lighthouse' in an ancient Iberian tongue.

Lighthouses once shone upon ships both large and small, and served as homes for all seamen to return to.

Many souls dwelled beneath the reefs, until the ships fell in love with the ocean, accepting its embrace and facing their own destruction.

(Amaia? Where is she going... Hm?)

(Some sort of commotion up ahead? That's unusual. What's going on?)

Where are you heading?

The chapel! Peeps here shouldn't be using their hands to pray, they should learn to drum instead!

This square is the center of the town. Everything's built around it.

A sculpture of a lighthouse.

A guiding landmark to the sea... and the town.

What a lame analogy!