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There is a name on the stock... does it belong to her siblings?

Enya's attention is drawn to a bunch of sculptures scattered haphazardly on the ground at the other end of the yard. Their visage is a familiar one.

Enya approaches the largest amongst them and holds it before her. The sculptor was obviously extremely skilled—Kjeragandr is smiling gently upon her.

This is...

just like the one we built at Lake Silberneherze.

I guess this is what they all think you look like.

There are other sculptures lying by her feet, and Enya picks up one of them.

This one is sleeker, the chisel marks on the face rougher, giving it a sense of harshness. Perhaps the sculptor had used too much force when sculpting the face, and chiseled off a little too much.

It's not right, is it? Doesn't look like Kjeragandr at all.

The face needs to be a little thinner, and the body...

Will you heed the plea of your humble handmaiden, Saintess?

Enya, pleeease—

See? It looks better when the face is rounder.

She carefully puts the two sculptures of different sizes back.

In this bare, unfamiliar backyard, Enya puts her hands together and prays toward the statue of Kjeragandr, as the elders of Vine-Bead Court often do.

She does not make any wish. She only hopes for a miracle.

The sun has set, but the huntress still sits in the yard.

She hurriedly gets up to bow when she sees Enya, but the latter lays a hand on her shoulder.

...Saintess.

No need for formalities. It's just us two.

I would prefer it if you could call me 'Enya'.

As you wish.

After greeting Enya, the girl looks aside and falls quiet again.

There were a lot of Kjeragandr sculptures in the backyard. Did you and your family make them yourselves?

(Nods in silence)

They look a little different. Is it because people interpret the image of Kjeragandr depicted in the old books differently?

My dad made the ones that looked like Her. I made the ones that don't...

Pfft—

I'm sorry! I just wanted to ask... why did you make all those sculptures?

My family is a branch of Clan Paleroche that went into the mountains on Kjeragandr's orders. We've been hunters ever since.

We believe all that lives in the mountains share Kjeragandr's soul, and we are all part of the eternal cycle of life within Her.

In gratitude for the blessings of Kjeragandr, every member of our family must learn to sculpt the image of Kjeragandr once we are old enough to hunt alone.

We also make leather jackets, bone sculptures and accessories with Her mark.

'Hear, blessed hunter.'

'Are the whispers of the wind and the grass not Her hymns? Are the creatures that walk and fly not She embodied?'

'The cycle of life and death is the cycle of water and ice; there is neither beginning nor end.'

'Speak of Kjeragandr's wisdom and love, and listen.'

'Rely not on signs and omens, but seek upon snow-covered peaks'... and then... and then—

'And become one with Her.'

Yes... this part feels different from the other parts of <i>Kjeragandr.</i> I always get stuck here.

The details of the scriptures are not what matters the most. What's important is to be constantly mindful that Kjeragandr watches and listens to our words and deeds.

You may not remember the complicated verses, but you're living, hunting, and sculpting in accordance with Her teachings.

Even as the Saintess... I may never have truly understood the meaning of this passage, if I hadn't met you.

You're one of the most pious faithful I've ever met. Kjeragandr will protect your family.

Really?

Yes. I'm Her... chosen Saintess, after all. She will appear when we need her most, no matter what hardship we face.

*sob*—

Tears roll down the young cheeks of the huntress who always puts on a strong front, falling and melting the snow by their feet.

Joanna? What's the matter? Can you tell me?

I, I—

Enya takes Joanna's trembling hands in hers.

When I first learned to hunt, I was bitten by an Infected beast... and I got Oripathy...

Dad hunted every day and made those sculptures after coming back from the hunt, so that he could sell them in town to buy medicine for me... and he did it for years...

A few days ago, dad's friend told me... he was at the station... the day the Catastrophe happened...

If I didn't—

*sob*... *sob*...

Joanna...

Why, Kjeragandr...?

The grieving girl drops to the ground, curled up in a fetal position.

Enya kneels by her side, trying to find words of consolation, but for all the scriptures she has memorized, none have an answer. After a brief hesitation, she begins patting the girl's back.

There is a lump in her throat. If even eternal Kjeragandr can fall silent, what could Her Saintess possibly do?

Are you listening, Kjarr...?

Sitting by the window, the Rift Cloudbeast suddenly growls with as much volume as it can muster, and darts back into Joanna's hood.

Joanna sniffles and wipes her tears with her palms.

Someone's coming. I'll get the door.

Young lady...

How do I get to the nearest town?

Are you lost? Do you see those lights? Follow the trail down the mountain, and follow the lights whenever you come to a crossroads—

It's getting dark... and my eyesight is poor...

I'll walk with you—

No... I can't leave right now.

You could spend the night here, and head down once the sun rises.

No, no, I shouldn't trouble you. I'll find the path down the mountain...

What is it?

Just an old man who got lost.

You're quite far from town. Do people pass by here often?

No. My family are the only ones who live here. We don't see many passersby. In fact, you were the first...

—Look out!