act30side

Something you can't tell me?

C'mon, bratan, say something.

(*making an X with his fingers*)

You really can't say?

(*yet another X, followed by a constant barrage of Xs*)

Urgh... Fine, I'll stop bothering you about it.

Anyway, as soon as I meet this guy, I'll know, right? I'm also real curious as to why you two keep staring at my face.

What, is it 'cause I look like someone, or does someone look like me?

Nah, can't be, the way the old man talked about the guy he wants me to meet, it's like—

That—It's not—Well, no...!

Alright, calm down, a guy like you couldn't lie your way out of a finbowl.

Well, <i>I'm</i> not lying, you guys were stealing some real strange glances earlier.

If you're up to some funny business, it's gonna come down to my fists.

Weren't we going inside? C'mon already.

Ah! Madam Rosalind!

Sir Arctosz, Master has brought us a guest...

Sir?!

Wahahaha! This is a fine drink, incredibly fine!

Come, finish this glass with me!

Hahaha!

This is the guy the old man wanted me to meet?

A... bearded drunk?

Eh?

What's this girl babbling about?!

I am Arctosz, Patriarch of the Paleroche Clan. How could I possibly get drunk on a sip of wine?!

Hah.

All the drunks say stuff like that.

And here I thought... Nah, couldn't be, my papa would definitely be way cooler.

You're Father's guest, *hic* so I won't argue with you.

Still...

Come a bit closer, girl. Let me have a proper look.

Wha—What the hell are you trying to pull?!

I... I feel like your face is sort of familiar...

You're...

*cough*, *cough*...

The old man steps inside, disturbing a thick layer of dust.

The door barely hangs on its hinges, and the floor creaks with every step.

Under his orders, the room has not welcomed a single guest in a very, very long time.

With no residents, and no custodians, this forgotten room has fallen apart with age.

Where did I put it?

I think it was...

...Ah, good, here it is.

The old man fiddles with the latch of a cabinet in the corner, removing something from within.

It's a plain, unadorned rock, every edge painstakingly polished smooth until it was perfectly round.

Upon the rock is carved a blessing of Kjeragandr.

The old man grasps the rock in the palm of his hand.

Thank goodness...

I kept it, even as I never expected this day to come.

Rosalind has grown up well, Tatyana...

The old man remembers. That day was also a winter's day.

It was through this very window that he had watched that sad, silent parting.

He had seen that young, foreign, faultless woman, with her anger and disappointment that could light snow aflame, leave.

He had seen that young, confused child carried in her mother's arms, unable to understand the reason behind her mother's furious face.

He had watched them for what felt like centuries.

Watched them until their backs faded into the bitter white winds.

So many years, and with so much time passed.

I had planned to give this to Rosalind, but I never expected...

Arctosz did not want to see you two bear the blame, and so I locked this room, and told him that he must not speak in your stead.

And then it was I, for the sake of Clan Paleroche, who exiled you and yours.

If there is anyone to blame, Tatyana, then blame me.

Now, the Paleroche clan is in Arctosz's hands.

Kjerag too, is not as she once was.

I pledged to live the rest of my days as a simple devotee, so that as long as I lived, I would keep the road ahead clear for Kjeragandr.

If only it had been like this...

I must be truly old now, daydreaming like that.

By Kjeragandr.

By Kjeragandr...