level_act42side_02_beg

Firearms Workshop, Via Borgos, Pagus Faber

Hello...? Anybody home?

Sculptures of saints line the walls of the small workshop, acting as makeshift display shelves, exhibiting guns to would-be customers in impossible arrangements.

But Amos does not see a single customer. No one stops at the door to the workshop, except for himself. His first feeling is that the whole place seems cold and cheerless.

Not even the proprietor is present. Gazing on the dim light cast upon the sculptures, his second feeling is one of eeriness.

Senior Paganini? Are you in?

(Why would a gunsmith have such an absurd name?)

Amos looks around, then bumps into something.

He looks around and finds himself staring into a pair of massive, luminous eyes that peer straight at him from the shadows.

Eek—

Who are you, barging into my place like this—let me put my glasses on!

A functionary?

Sorry. I was taking a nap because there's been no business lately. I wasn't expecting an official visit.

I am Cardinal Aide Amos. I came to see that the handover of this Firearms Workshop is in order. And you are...?

I'm Paganini. The guy with the absurd name.

Wait. You're a Liberi?

Do I look like a Sankta to you?

Sorry. What I meant is, I've never seen a Liberi in this line of work. After all, only Sankta use patron firearms—

Got a problem with it?

Chefs don't necessarily eat their own cooking. I can't use the weapons I make, that's all.

Do you need my gunsmith's license? I must have made close to a thousand patron firearms for the people of Laterano, if not more. Maybe even yours...

Whew, this is some real 'premium' work. Well above my craftsmanship, that's for sure.

Not that it matters anymore. I'm about to close up shop.

All recent orders have been cancelled. The Notarial Hall can have this last batch of guns.

Y-You've already prepared. I thought...

Thought I would be trouble? Thought I would give you a hard time?

Th-That's not what I meant.

The registrar indicates that this workshop has been around for a century. As a Liberi who has chosen to make patron firearms for the Sankta, it must hold incredible significance to you—

Save it. Anyone could tell that gunsmiths have become a dying breed these last few years. We've all been waiting for the day to come.

If you're asking whether I like it or not: No, of course I don't like it. Do you want to hear about the insomnia I've had lately?

I can arrange a confessional for you, if you wish. The Seventh Tribunal will cover the cost.

If anyone here needs a confession, it's you.

This old man's set to retire. But my apprentice, Vannini, she hasn't even had the chance to make her own patron firearm.

If all the Firearms Workshops are gone, you'll be responsible for her future.

Of course. Closing the Firearms Workshops is part of a process to make the firearms manufacturing more standardized and efficient. Gunsmiths like you and your apprentice remain valuable talent.

I will pass this on to the Sixth Tribunal, which is responsible for civil matters. Your apprentice, Vannini, should receive a recommendation to the Shrine of Gunsmithing in Pagus Michaelion, which is almost complete.

Shrine of Gunsmithing, huh...? I hope they're that confident when they actually start smithing guns.

I have faith in Laterano's...

Yeah, yeah, I've heard it too many times.

...If you have no objection, I would like to ask you to sign these papers.

Effective immediately, this workshop will cease operation, with the Notarial Hall handling follow-up matters.

Pleasant day to you, senior.

See yourself out.

Pagus Faber, Via Borgos... how familiar.

This is the place!

Has the connection been established?

I-I think so.

We've been waiting for two days on the outskirts. I want to go out and get some fresh air!

These Laterans invited us onto this mobile abbey while we were wandering in the wilderness, then made us wait like this once we got to Laterano.

I apologize for keeping you waiting.

Twelve other nomadic abbeys have reached Laterano, in addition to the busy schedule of the Summit of Nations. We beg your understanding.

The Notarial Hall has prepared temporary accommodations in Pagus Ambrosius. Once you've settled down, the Sixth Tribunal will help you with your registration and social welfare.

S-Sister? Do you mean that outsiders like us will get to stay in Laterano?

From the second Summit of Nations, Laterano's doors will be open to all races...

You shall find a home in the city.

Hey, Extra! Are you alright?

I'll find a doctor!

No!

You can't let the Sankta find out, not yet...

Please let me through.

D-Don't worry about it, Sister.

We can take care of this. You're busy, aren't you?

Argh—

Are you... pregnant, Sarkaz?

Your people didn't stop the Sarkaz from entering the abbey! You're gonna make it a problem now?

You want me to go, I'll go! I don't need help from the Sankta!

You won't lay a hand on me or my baby!

You misunderstand. It's just we have no directive for accommodating pregnant mothers in the abbey's standard operating procedures, and thus Sister Angie is not sure what to do.

Allow me to bring her to the Shrine of Nurtury, Sister Angie.

The Shrine of Nurtury is not yet open to the public. This is against regulations.

Besides, what are you doing here?

Our Lord has guided me to where I should be.

We must have some flexibility. The Shrine of Nurtury cannot ignore an ailing mother.

Yes, Matriarch.

I am Keph, Matriarch of the Shrine of Nurtury. Simply put, I am its caretaker.

The woman with golden hair turns slowly toward the Sarkaz. Her voice is soft yet crystal clear, seemingly carefully probing.

The Sarkaz sees the two black horns on the woman's head, then turns her gaze to the woman's eyes. She sees an empty void underneath the intricate patterns of the eyepatch.

What are you... Sarkaz? Sankta? Blind, too?

Sarkaz, Sankta... we have no need of these words of distinction. You and I, we are alike... like you, I am nurturing lives that I treasure.

My lack of sight does not prevent me from perceiving you and the new life you carry... the anxiety and joy that it brings you.

We Sarkaz don't talk this way. You're Sankta, a strange Sankta with children.

Do you raise your children in that... Shrine of something? What kind of place is it?

The Shrine of Nurtury, where new life is born and nurtured. You and I stand in its shadow.

A shrine... for giving birth?

Birth is sacred. Each new birth is a continuation of the Lateran faith. Only in this way may we shape the future.

I don't understand.

Long have you wandered the wilderness. You have not enjoyed the care that a mother should. You are weak... and so is your child.

Are you sure you want to leave the Holy City that is so near and return to the wilderness at a time like this?

I...

Your name is 'Extra', madam?

You don't like it?

We understand the difficulties facing the Sarkaz... many Sarkaz mothers name their children 'Extra', seeing them as nothing more than a little extra in their lives.

This name's got nothing to do with my mom. I took it myself after I got pregnant. Who's to say who's the extra?

Ah...

You got a problem?

You treasure your bonds with your child. You are proud of having this little extra in your life, and you want everyone to know.

This is a wonderful, noble sentiment, madam. It should not be tainted by racism or hatred.

I know what you fear.

All people here in this abbey, Sankta, Feline, Kuranta, Lupo, and Vulpo alike bear witness.

The Summit of Nations is underway. Countless outlanders from all nations have flocked to Laterano. Laterano would not be foolish enough to harm a pregnant mother with all this attention.

(Nods)

(Casts a glance)

You have my word.

Alright.

Thank you for your understanding.

Let us welcome the birth of a new life together in Laterano. It will bridge a gulf and bring new meaning. This birth will be a great achievement.

This is why I have come... Our Lord has guided me to where I should be.

Welcome to Laterano... you are needed here, all of you.

Whatever it is you're after, I'm sure I can't help you.

I haven't said anything yet!

Alright, Seniora Sankta, what do you want? Do you need your guardian gun fixed, or you want some custom ammo?

Go out the door and turn left. You might just find one of the last Firearms Workshops in Pagus Michaelion that hasn't shut down yet, if you can get there before the functionaries.

I signed the handover documents from the Seventh Tribunal ten minutes ago. I'd be violating the Law if I did anything with this stuff now.

What if I said I wanted to make an explosion that would shake the city?

Not interested.

Come on! You're Master Pag, the King of Gunsmiths! If anyone would want to see an explosion, it's you!

Don't butter me up with a title you just made up on the spot.

I know what you're afraid of, Master Pag.

All I need is a little help—lend me some equipment, some of your expert knowledge—to help me figure out what's going on in Laterano.

I'm really anxious about all this.

My boss always says nothing gets in the way of Penguin Logistics completing our mission, or the after party!

Uh...

You don't need to DO anything. That way, you won't be violating the Law, right?

Get your guardian gun away from my collection, Sankta.

Besides, I know this gun. I made the damned thing—

Haha. Recognize it, don't you?

Then you also know how powerful it is.

I got Dr. Paola to make a new pair of glasses for you, magister! She admonished me to no end, she says it's your punishment to keep wearing those antiques of yours...

Here, try them on! Uh—

Wh-Who's this? What's going on, Magister Paganini?

Hey, if it isn't the quiet little girl! Look how fluently you can gab now!

What was your name again? Vanheim? Vannessa? Oh, I know—

—Vannini!

See? We still got our teamwork!

I remember now! You're El! You came to pick your first patron firearm...

Magister Paganini never lets me bother the customers when they come to the shop. But there was such a ruckus outside that day, I couldn't help but peek...

Magister Paganini found me out, though. I don't remember much else because I was so scared he was going to yell at me... sorry!

Oh, so that's why? You were afraid...

(Nods)

Weird, I thought you looked happy.

What brings you here today, El?

(Winks)

Vani.

The Seventh Tribunal came today. My workshop is...

I'm not officially a gunsmith yet. I don't actually work for this shop. It's not against the Law, strictly speaking.

Can I help this customer, Magister?

Gotcha, Senior Nurturer!

Where did you go? Romya said you were hiding from us. Is that true?

Of course not.

Then let's play Halo!

Father Andoain is very busy. How about you guys play with me?

Your Eminence.

I have some private matters to attend to. I'll be back soon.

No need to be nervous. I have your leave request on file. What I really should ask is, what are you doing here with the children when you're supposed to be on leave?

I thought I had enough time for one round of Halo.

And then? Did you think the children would let you go so easily?

I'll think of something.

I've heard you're completely incapable of saying 'no' to the children.

Who could ever imagine that the first Nurturer the Matriarch nurtured, one whose diligence and piety are beyond question, was once a criminal who violated the Law?

I'm only attending the family gathering of a friend I've not seen in a long time, Your Eminence.

I told you, no need to be nervous. I'm not worried about you burning Laterano while blowing a balloon or baking a cake.

I'm just curious. Why is there such a stark difference between how the Matriarch sees you, and your profile in the Curia's records?

The Matriarch has never overlooked or denied my sins, Your Eminence. She simply places more importance on my understanding with her.

It was before she became Matriarch. Our paths crossed by sheer chance, when I was taking refuge from a Catastrophe in an abandoned nomadic abbey.

The Matriarch may be blind, but her sense of hearing is impeccable. She caught a faint cry coming from the basement, in the midst of the deafening roar of Originium dashing against the distant mountains.

A mother, lying in a pool of blood in the shadows on death's door. She attempted to intimidate the Matriarch and protect her own child, but all she managed was an expression of great pain.

The mother you and the Matriarch first brought to the Holy City? Her injuries were such that even the most determined physician would have given up hope.

What made you think she would live?

I didn't... I didn't even think she would last the night. But the Matriarch had faith in a miracle, as though it was an inevitability.

The Matriarch wanted me to believe too, believe that the poor mother would find salvation, thanks to us.

And she did... at first, without medical training, all I could do was empathize and be by her side, caring for her in what ways I could.

You lingered in a stranded abbey for three months, for the sake of a <i>miracle?</i>

...Laterano needs a miracle.

Then you're much more rational than I thought, both of you. Perhaps I should see you in a different light.

Certainly, if it convinces the Curia to offer greater support for the Shrine of Nurtury.

So rational it's almost boring.

Hurry along now, Nurturer Andoain. At the very least, I hope to see the Nativity through without a hitch.