mostma

Five years ago, the town of Deeproot was destroyed by a Catastrophe.

Thanks to assistance from the Holy City, we were able to rebuild our lives on this new land.

Five years later, the new Deeproot is up on its feet. We are now in a position to revive our town's traditional art—sculpture.

In the old days, the middle of town always displayed the masterwork of our greatest craftsmen.

And now, I would like to revive this tradition and commission a new statue by our best craftsmen, in memory of those who did not survive.

Your father was the best craftsman in town, Susan, and we have seen how hard you've worked to carry his mantle. Will you take up this responsibility?

I—if Father was still here, there would have been no one more qualified.

But for me... I don't know if I'm ready.

It's such a heavy burden, to commemorate the departed.

I know it's a monumental challenge, but there's no other—

If Susan isn't sure, may I try my hand at it?

Melissa! You're back from Laterano?

Your letter said the town was planning to erect a new statue. I set out as soon as I read it.

I went back to the Holy City with the emissaries, but my heart has always been in Deeproot.

Good, very good.

You say you want to work on the statue?

Yes. I honed my skills in Laterano, waiting for the day when I could contribute to the town again.

That's very kind of you. In that case...

Wait!

It was my father who made the statue that stood in the middle of town, before it was destroyed by Catastrophe.

It was... special. Everyone in town said they smelled a scent that belonged only to us when they were near it.

I believe... the best way to commemorate them is to recreate the same statue.

Can you recreate the scent, though?

I-I'm not sure, but I'll try.

Listen, Susan.

The townsfolk, the ones who are left anyway, won't wait for you to rediscover this 'special' tradition.

Sometimes, it's the continuation that matters.

...I know.

(Mutters) The place that Father used to go all the time...

(Mutters) It's dangerous, but...

Susan! Where are you going?

She's headed toward... was I too harsh? I'll bring her back—

I'll take care of Susan.

Is that—Mostima?!

Mostima?!

Mayor, Melissa. How long as it been?

It's good to see you. How are the rest of your team, Andoain and the others?

Heh... they're good.

You...

Let's talk later.

You're Melissa, right? You must be!

You're—

I brought you the materials you needed for the sculpture!

By the way, have you seen a Sankta by the name of Mostima?

(Mutters) Did you pick this time to come back on purpose, Mostima?

Huh?

Where did Mostima go?

She went into the hills.

Won't be back for a while.

Ah—alright.

I'll help out here, then!

You'll just do whatever she dumps on you?

I've been looking for her for a while.

Every time I go to a new place, I happen across something like this, something that's just as much fun as looking for her.

Sounds like she's doing it on purpose.

Who knows? But that's just Mostima.

When we were little, she never came along when I asked her to blow stuff up with me.

But there were a few times when I realized that she was watching me from a distance.

Heh.

How do you know Mostima?

Our town, Deeproot, was destroyed by a Catastrophe five years ago.

My father and I were the only surviving Sanktas.

The Holy City received my father's call for help and sent a squad to pick us up.

(My sister's old squad...)

But their leader, Andoain, didn't just take us away.

Together with his cohorts, he escorted the non-Sankta refugees to this place.

They also requested supplies from the Holy City. It's only later that I learned they had taken out a year's wages in advance to do this.

You asked me why my brow is furrowed, Mostima.

I ask you instead: Can you look at yourself in the mirror, and see no shame or regret?

This is all we can do for these non-Sankta refugees.

All we can do is to take them to a patch of new soil, send them some supplies, and take our own people back to Laterano.

What happens here is none of our concern. There's a life of beauty and happiness waiting for us back home.

This has been taken for granted.

We've accepted it, and so have they.

But why?

El should have started working at Melissa's place now.

Melissa knows enough of my past to satisfy her a bit.

Found you, Susan.

My father used to come here.

You could see the whole town from this place.

Whenever he was in a bad mood, he would come here and look out at the town in the distance.

He used to say that memory isn't just the storage of information. He wanted those who touched the statue to recall the scent of the old days.

But, Father... all I see when I stand here now is a broken ruin.

That statue, it's damaged, but still standing.

I'll be right back.

Wow, this is a huge rock.

It's not just for one statue, is it?

Correct. My plan is to sculpt a set of statues to commemorate the dead.

You've seen similar sets of statues in Laterano, haven't you?

Oh, like the ones on the plaza?

Yes. I wanted to sculpt a set of statues like those, and inscribe the names of the dead.

Sounds like the murals in the churches.

You're a smart girl.

You said you started sculpting only after you went back to Laterano?

Yes. Deeproot was known for its sculptures, but not everyone was a sculptor.

I was one of the non-sculptors.

Honestly, I had difficulty adjusting to life in Laterano.

Maybe I'd just been used to Deeproot, so the constant joyful jubilation in Laterano hardly feels right to me.

Ah—I get that.

I've been following Mostima's trail for a couple of years, and seen a lot of places outside of Laterano. I've come to realize that they're very different from the Holy City.