act46side

There are no answers here...

Then why did you bring us here, yet refuse to bear witness?

No, She does <i>not</i> exist.

Daughter of Silverash, and you, and you too, do not pretend you have not seen.

The hunters who tan furs with frozen fingers, the gleaners who choke upon dust, and the Oripathy-haunted with their torn skin.

Have you not seen them, they who kneel upon the dirt until their knees bleed, all to beg and plead to Kjeragandr for salvation...

No, to end their miserable lives early, even...

While you huddled together in your warm houses making merry, it was I, and the Vine-Bead Court, who would go where you were unwilling to even look at, to the homes of the impoverished and destitute.

It was I who soothed them, I who kept preaching to them that 'none shall be abandoned'... 'Even if you were born into a lifetime of suffering, there is still a god who loves you'...

It was we who built the nation where people can greet their ends with a smile, but you, but Kjeragandr—

This arbitrary liege lord, this king who sees all as Her cattle! She can, should, save these people, save all of Kjerag.

Yet She is aloof, magicking up some 'miracle' every once in a while to show her power...

Why is it only ever barely a handful of people saved?!

Now, you even wish to go see this monster, this tyrant, to ask Her to deny me, to deny the order we have so painstakingly built.

I... I cannot—

What more is left that could support this old man? He collapses into the dirt, crying out in anguish, as if his frail body were struck by some invisible hammer.

...Speak, tell me.

Why does She not know? Why does She not understand?

Why do you stay silent...?

Um...

Great Elder... Why is he so upset?

Elder Adso... I understand where you are coming from.

We are not allowed to witness the true face of God. Only through Her admonishments, Her creations can we describe Her.

But I still wish to believe...

That no matter what I see at the other end of this cave, my faith shall not be swayed. The virtues and commandments, the knowledge and wisdom She has conferred upon us. They have meaning.

I merely wish to see clearly...

what road the children of Kjerag have followed.

Enya turns and walks into the deep cavern without the slightest hesitation, towards where her faith lies.

<p=2>Deck of the Gloriana</>

...How long has it been now?

It has been five hours and fifty-seven minutes since we sent our ultimatum, Your Grace.

Hmm...

I must say, I did not expect Enciodes to choose to respond this way.

'Tis a pity things had to end like this.

Relay the order, all men are to—

That...

Your Grace! We've sighted one of Kjerag's high-speed battleships!

You don't mean... How many?

Just... the one, Your Grace.

Even without the aid of binoculars, those standing atop the deck can see it.

In the distance, a battleship slowly emerges from a snow-draped valley, its hue that of silver ash.

Perhaps everyone is thinking the same thing at this moment: This ship, no matter if you compare it to the fleet it is facing, or the mountains behind it, is rather on the small side...

Silverash...?

Your Grace, the ship is hailing us on a public frequency.

Their message states that this is Kjerag's high-speed battleship, and her captain is Enciodes Silverash.

He sends his greetings to the Victorian Duke of Caster...

Oh...?

But does this stunt of his mean he is here to negotiate, or to start a war?

He says he hopes he can have a pleasant discussion with Your Grace... and he hopes that discussion can take place aboard Your Grace's <i>Gloriana</i>.

...Very well.

Welcome our guest aboard.

It has been a while, Most Esteemed Duke of Caster.

I trust you have been well, Enciodes... It truly has been quite a while.

Whenever a youth such as you stands before me, it reminds me that time is fleeting. Oh, how is one meant to endure such a thing?

Though much time has passed, I shall never dare forget the aid you gave me at the time, alongside your kindness towards Karlan Trade.

Haha... You were far too hasty when leaving Victoria. You only remembered to bring along Caster's aid with you, while leaving our friendship behind.

I had even hoped that, one day, you would invite me to Kjerag as your guest.

But since you <i>are</i> here, then I should extend you a host's courtesy.

'A host's courtesy', you say?

I find myself rather curious. Since you have been expelled from Karlan Trade, and the Silverash clan is branded as traitors in bed with Victoria...

Then who have you come to me as?

It is simple.

I am here as the sole authority of Kjerag.

I shall speak for this nation as we discuss matters.

By Kjeragandr, this place is huge...

It's beyond imagination... Was this place really an artificial refuge?

At the very least, it was hidden by human hands.

Do you see any ruins the Court may have hidden here, Enya?

No, I don't—

Wait, did you hear that?

The sound like rocks falling onto snow?

No, it's more like... Based on these readings, it's rhythmic, like...

...A heartbeat.

Even this stone here...

These veins on it are like actual blood vessels, fluorescing to the pulse of the sound...

How would you explain it?

...My instruments are picking up biosignals.

It's going to be hard to believe, but there's only one answer.

We are inside the body of a living being.

...But how can that be?

Whoa!

What is this? Nearly tripped over it.

Seems like there's some sort of statue here, I nearly bumped into it too...

Let me turn my emergency light on.

The shimmering light dispels the darkness, revealing the thing that is blocking their path.

Huh? An ice sculpture? Why's it crawling across the ground?

It's not the only one.

Look, there's another one there... Hmm, seems like there's even more of them this way...

They're clothed the same way the ancient peoples of Kjerag are described in historical records, but did those people have the technique to sculpt like this?

Craft and sculpture of the time were cruder. Enya, what do you....?

Enya?

I am afraid that these are not statues.

They're not?

They are... past Saintesses.

They are from the last time Kjeragandr vanished. They who offered themselves up as sacrifices to beg Her to return to Kjerag.

Enya brushes her fingers against a 'sculpture's' face. Her wrinkles. Her flesh. Her cheeks puffed up by gritted teeth. Her eyelashes. Her tears staining her cheeks, unevaporated.

A girl dead from hypothermia, her delusional relief and trembling from the cold merged into a single expression.

They were encased in ice after their deaths, preserving their faces and postures. They were... all looking in the same direction.

They were all looking for Her... answer.

The women follow the gazes of the 'sculptures', turning to look behind them.