story_mostma_2_1

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.

You know, one of my dreams is to live in a different city.

Then you're not just a happy-go-lucky girl, are you?

Anyway, it wasn't until I went to Laterano that I became interested in sculpting, and began to pursue it formally.

In my heart, I always wanted to come back here.

But Lateran sculptures aren't the same as the ones here, are they?

...I know that.

When I began to seriously study sculpture, I also began to regret not studying Deeproot sculpting while the town was still around.

The past can't be changed, though. I'll continue the tradition here with Lateran techniques.

Unless somebody knows a better way.

So you're hoping Susan succeeds?

...You must be joking. I won't let five years of hard work go to waste.

The largest rock over here.

Gotcha.

Anyway, if you want to help, you can start by cutting the rocks down to the required size.

In Lateran terms—

Blow 'em up!

*sigh* I knew it. Just don't go too far and turn it into a heap of rubble.

Don't worry, I'm an explosives expert!

Time has taken its toll on the streets, which are filled with mud and scattered bricks and rubble. The marks left by Catastrophe are everywhere.

Even the most experienced Messengers avoid such places, but Mostima steps inside without hesitation, stopping only to tighten her hood.

She has gotten far too used to such environments in the span of just two years.

Five years ago, she would not have gone to such lengths. Indeed, she might not have stood here at all.

In the two years that she has been a Legatus, however, she has seen too many places and things that she had never seen before.

When she set foot in the place, she already had an inkling of what Susan was talking about.

The answer to the scent might be a simple one.

You think so too, don't you?

Mostima comes before the statue that stands in the middle of the ruins, carefully removes a broken piece, and takes a sniff of it.

Then, she bends down and picks up a handful of soil, and takes a sniff from it as well.

It is as she thought.

The secret to this 'scent of the town' is simple—

It is a mingled scent of the soil and the stone used in sculpting.

And there is no great secret to why the townsfolk found it familiar. It has the freshness that the vegetation left in the soil, and the unique mineral scent of the stone.

The townsfolk have lived side-by-side with these scents all their lives, which combined to become a scent that brought back memories to the people who lived here.

Can't say it's that pleasant.

Then again, we've been all over, but we've never smelled a smell quite like it, have we?

Explosives, set.

I've done the math. You'll get the result you want when it goes off!

You really know what you're doing, don't you? Couldn't tell at first glance.

I told you, I'm an explosives expert!

Let's get started! Boom!

Lemuel's math was on-point.

The massive rock cracks into several pieces as the explosions go off.

The only thing she neglected was the nature of the stone.

By the way, did I tell you that these rocks emit a large amount of dust when detonated?

Lemuel cannot open her eyes in the thick dust that fills the entire area.

I-I can't see!

What the...?

Mosti—

Shh—

I can't see! Melissa, help!

Look out! There's a hole in the ground—

Huh? Whoa—!

Lemuel's foot finds nothing but empty air. Her body instantly thrown off balance.

As she is about to fall into the hole, a hand grabs her arm and pulls her back.

Thanks, Melissa—

Gotta be more careful, El.

Mostima?!

Hearing the familiar voice, Lemuel rubs her eyes and forces them open.

But she sees no one before her.

*cough* *cough* Mostima?!

Melissa? Was Mostima just here a moment ago?

Melissa? Where did you go?

What's going on?!!

This scent...

Yes, that's it... mm... oh...

It's exactly what Deeproot used to smell like...

This is the scent alright.

I didn't think it would be so simple.

It's the simplest things that leave the deepest impression.

I... have to thank you for finding it, Mostima, Susan.

It's me who should be thanking you, Melissa.

Without you, I would still be going around in circles.

Well, it's a little too early to celebrate.

If the secret behind the scent is so simple, there's no reason why I can't use it.

Now ain't that a cunning move.

You didn't think the townsfolk would pick you just because you discovered the scent?

No, I'll sculpt the best statue!

I don't know how to thank you, Mostima. You helped the town discover that familiar scent, and brought vitality back to the place.

You flatter me, Mr. Mayor... I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

But I'm curious, Mostima.

Five years ago, all you did was follow your squad leader Andoain, without saying a single word.

Why did you come today to do all this for us?

When she arrived on scene, what she saw was a gravely injured Lemuen, and a crazed Andoain who had committed the act.

She sensed many emotions in that instant—bewilderment, hysteria, alongside relief and acceptance.

It put a doubt in her heart, but did not stop her from acting.

To stop Andoain, she had to knock the Lock and Key from his hand with her patron firearm. She left with Lemuen after retrieving the Lock and Key.

They returned to Laterano, accompanied by Fiammetta.

After that, the Lock and Key were taken from her, and she was put under house arrest.

She did not regret her fall. It was what Andoain saw in the Lock and Key that she was more concerned about.

She made the bold decision to break into the Curia.

Miss this chance, and the secret may elude her forever.

Infiltrating the Curia was not easy, but she succeeded.

Thinking back now, the white-bearded old man must have had a hand in it. He would hardly have allowed Mostima to keep the Lock and Key otherwise.

Whatever the reason, she was once again in possession of the Lock and Key.

The Lock and Key did not react when she took them from Andoain.

This time, when she touched them again with questions in her heart, she walked into a fantastical plane.

There, she saw—

A gap in the past. A cross-section of the future.

She has a pretty good guess as to what Andoain saw.

When she saw what she saw on that plane, she immediately understood why Andoain went mad.

After all, Andoain was always worried about the future, always lamenting over the smallest of tragedies.

In a way, she could even say that Fiammetta's anger at Andoain's actions was born out of Fiammetta's approval of him—

Considering Fiammetta's sense of justice, it is no wonder that she always held Andoain in high regard for the concern he showed for others, in comparison to Fiammetta herself, who always seemed a little aloof and removed.

However, Mostima was not obsessed with the reasons for Andoain's madness. It was not simply because of the emotions that she sensed from the pair at that instant.

Instead, it is because she had a feeling, a feeling that she had perhaps harbored from the moment she joined Andoain's squad, even the moment she first saw Andoain—

They were walking divergent paths, and it was inevitable that they must go their separate ways.

It was like the many thousands of pieces before her eyes, each one potentially revealing the answer to a question. Perhaps the answer to the ultimate question will reveal itself when all the pieces are exhausted.

Andoain will choose to walk toward those pieces without hesitation, stepping into the dark mire where the stars shine.

As for her—she chose to turn back.

When I saw what I saw, I thought—

Oh, how terrible.

I didn't feel anything else.

That's why I didn't understand the struggle that a certain somebody was going through.

But now—

Mostima, those horns...

Are you fallen?!

These past two years, I've traveled the lands as a Legatus, and I've come to a conclusion—

Lovely bastards, the Sanktas are.

I've just relearned how to live with this land, after realizing that I was a bastard.

Tell El that I have a new mission. I'll be in Lungmen for a while.

I ran into this guy by the name of 'Emperor' six months ago. He's in Lungmen too. I think I'll pay him a visit.

Mostima turns around at the hillside.

She can see the town square in the distance.

Susan and Melissa have already started their preparations. A crowd has assembled to watch them, and it is growing bigger.

The red hair of a certain Sankta stands out in the crowd. She goes from one side to another, helping out here and there, seemingly having forgotten why she was here in the first place.

For once, Mostima is not wearing her hood. She lets the breeze brush against her cheeks and run through her hair.

I think I understand you a little better now, Andoain.

Maybe I should have had a few more drinks with you. Maybe I should have let you have more time together with Lemuen.

Alright, I know, you were always going to leave in the end.

But there's something that I want to say.

Now that I've gotten to know you better, I can say with certainty—

I won't make the same choices you did.

Nothing can bear the burden of the happiness of all the people. Not you, not me, not even Laterano.

All we can do is to focus on what we can see.

Just like I've been taking El around these past two years, fulfilling a little of the responsibility I bear for her coming out of Laterano to find me. That's all.

I don't hate you like Fiammetta does. But don't expect a warm welcome when we meet again.

Wherever that might be, our journey will take us there.