act26side

Rules can be broken, if necessary.

Of course. I can't bring myself to disagree.

You judge matters by your own standards. That is why you always carry out your missions effectively, if somewhat unorthodoxly.

I have a mission for you. I had intended on going myself, but there are other matters that require my attention... now, I've found someone who can go in my stead.

It will not be an easy task. Expect unexpected complications, the likes of which you have never seen.

But I believe you are up to it. I want to see why He chose you.

Will you go, Federico?

Executor Federico, ready for assignment.

What is your command?

What are you looking at, Arturia?

The flowers, Excellency.

This is the only place in the monastery where they grow. I'm glad I made it in time for bloom season. It's a view worth savoring.

Clément would be happy to hear it.

It has been a long time since anyone came to see the flowers that he cared for. They used to grow all around the abbey.

This is all that is left.

A shame. I understand there is a beautiful story behind them.

There was.

What about now?

Perhaps there still is. But my eyes have grown weak. Flowers are no longer pure enjoyment for me. I've grown too old, spent too much time here.

Flowers cannot fill an empty stomach, just as your music can soothe pain but not avert aging.

I know things don't always go according to plan. Perhaps this was inevitable the moment our call for help reached Laterano.

Now...

Only the bitter fruit remains.

Bitter fruit. Even the name itself leaves a bitterness on the tip of the tongue that does not go away. I rather like it, actually.

Poor soil does not bear sweet fruit.

Poor soil. Yes, poor soil.

But it's home for people like us.

I thought we would find a better, more peaceful life.

We had walls that protected us from wind and rain, we had faith unwavering. Our longing for a peaceful life won out over our longing for home.

All that was left was to find a quiet corner of the world where we could live in peace.

But now...

The old man's emaciated face twitches slightly.

It is as though he is mustering the strength to tear apart that which threatens to crush him beneath his loose skin. His words are replaced by a string of coughs and gasps.

How many years has it been? Fifty? Sixty? More?

When disaster came from the sea, when we rejected the Inquisition's demands and left Iberia to settle here... I've seen children born, and then buried those same children.

Life has become hard.

Life is always hard.

Yes, you're right...

Look at the living. To where do they belong? I can't tell.

Are they of Iberia, or of Laterano?

We've come too far in too long...

Arturia.

Am I still a Lateran, after all these years?

Only you know the answer, Abbot Stefano Torregrossa.

I hope I still am.

Then you are.

You spoke the truth, Arturia.

There's no need to test me anymore.

A misunderstanding. I never intended to probe your secrets.

I permitted you to stay because these doors are open to all who bear no ill intentions.

But I still don't know what you are seeking, Arturia.

What if I said I seek nothing?

I take it you don't believe it.

Then let me put it this way. Pay no heed to me. I promise I will not interfere with anything here, nor with your decisions.

I'm simply a traveler, drawn to this place by the stories here, praying that the ending is a good one.

Should I swear in the name of my halo?

You're a cunning one, Arturia.

But I believe your words.

The old man falls silent again.

Do all who grow old grow dry and stiff? The lines on his face, once so beloved, now cast only lethargy.

The eyes have become clouded by the decades that they have seen.

The face should have been warmer, gentler, more Lateran.

The Holy City never answered, all these years, but I never stopped praying.

My faith taught me to love, to be kind. It did not teach me to abandon our brothers and sisters, our loyal friends.

To abandon the few for the happiness of the many...

The devoted would call it a shameful betrayal.

Do you?

I don't have that answer, Arturia.

Where does the believer go, if faith has betrayed itself?

Here's the stuff.

Get it salted and dried quickly. It should last the winter.

I'll get someone on it!

Gratias. This meat will buy us some time...

...I'm sorry.

Finding game was harder than I thought, with the weather is getting colder.

Don't say that!

Thanks to you, there will be meat on the table for the children tonight... don't apologize.

Ha. Okay, forget what I said. Make them something good for dinner.

I would love to, but we've got to ration.

Where's Hyman? She didn't get hurt, did she?

Don't worry, she's fine.

Really?

Don't hide anything, okay? An injury is no small thing.

No problem, we'll come back if we do need anything.

It's getting late. I should go.

Hey, Gerald!

Hm?

Everyone's been talking about Laterano. They mean no harm; they're just a little anxious.

Please, don't mind it if someone lets something slip.

I understand.

I-I see, that's good... yes...

Thanks for coming, Raimund.

Let's go. We're not needed here. Is Hyman back yet?

Haven't seen her all day. Davy led a group out to look for her. I'll join them later.

We have a scout team ready. We'll have concrete intel when they get back tonight.

Good. Carry on.

Brother Gerald...

Are we really going to accept things as they are right now?

Calm down, Raimund.

You know we never had of a choice.