Chapter 217 “The Doubt Of The Devout”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
In a dimly lit room, Heidi unexpectedly sneezed, catching the attention of the young cleric seated across from her who was engrossed in taking notes.
“Are you okay?” He queried with evident concern, eyeing the psychiatrist with a mix of curiosity and worry. “Did you sneeze because you’re feeling under the weather? Is there any discomfort you’re feeling?”
Shaking her head, Heidi quickly interjected, brushing off the concern, “I’m fine, really. It’s just the cool breeze that must’ve caused it.” She gestured dismissively and rubbed her nose, trying to steer the conversation back to its original course. “Now, where did we leave off?”
Regaining his focus, the young cleric took a brief look at the clipboard in his grasp. “We were deep into the discussion about the merging of the two realities and how one was obliterated after the arrival of the Vanished,” he recalled. “You’ve also mentioned something about a crystal pendant you possess, hinting at its potential significance in this entire event.”
Thinking deeply, Heidi responded, “The pendant, unfortunately, is broken. My father had acquired it from some old antique shop. But I highly doubt he or the shopkeeper realized its unique properties. It seemed like an ordinary piece – it even had the factory label attached to its back.”
Intrigued, the young cleric scribbled down more notes, “So, it’s a seemingly ordinary object with concealed, otherworldly powers. You got it from the lower part of the city. Could you provide more insight about this antique shop or any distinctive features of the pendant? Understanding its origin might aid us in piecing together why you’re the only one with a clear memory of those pivotal moments of the cataclysmic event.”
Willing to cooperate, Heidi responded affirmatively, “Of course, I’ll share everything I know.” But as she delved deeper into her story, she hesitated on a particular point, her voice wavering, “What about everyone else… are they all safe and accounted for?”
The young cleric nodded in affirmation. “From the information we have at the moment, yes. Though no one can fully recollect the entire episode of the searing inferno, it seems everything has reverted to its state before that catastrophic incident. The head bishop believes we experienced a transgression of our reality. The specifics are being withheld for now, but they’ll soon be disclosed to the public.”
He hesitated briefly, deciding to disclose something potentially significant. “Your experience, however, is anomalous. While we all can recall the inception of the disaster with its apocalyptic rain of fire, only you have memories of the Vanished’s manifestation and its subsequent quelling of the blaze. Your perspective might be the missing piece we desperately need.”
Absorbing the weight of his words, Heidi appeared contemplative and then voiced another concern, “Given the circumstances, should I inform my family? It appears I might be here for a while…”
The young cleric offered a reassuring smile, “Don’t fret. We’ve already dispatched someone to notify them. Everything is taken care of.”
“Ah, you’ve informed them already? That puts my mind at ease,” Heidi remarked, allowing herself a brief moment of reflection before nodding decisively. “Alright, let’s proceed. What’s the next thing you want to delve into?”
Taking a deep breath, the young cleric posed his next question, “Regarding the phantom vessel that seemed to exist simultaneously in both timelines, can you recall its intricate details? And when you think back, do these memories manifest as a dreamlike vision or more like auditory illusions?”
……
The serene ambiance of the grand church was abruptly shattered as Vanna entered. This vast and hallowed space was enveloped in tranquility. Aside from the guards dutifully positioned at the entrance, only Bishop Valentine was present, standing reverently in front of the majestic statue that dominated the main hall.
As Vanna’s footsteps echoed through the chamber, Bishop Valentine turned to greet her. His face broke into a warm smile upon seeing the familiar inquisitor. Gone were the elaborate robes he often wore. Now, he was dressed simply, though he still clutched the scepter that symbolized his high standing within the city.
With a composed demeanor, Vanna began her update, “We have successfully reestablished order in the church district. The military garrisons have started retreating to their respective barracks, and the high priests are at the main factories ensuring the steam cores are stabilized. For the time being, we can guarantee a continuous supply of gas and fuel for the city, at least until night descends.”
The aged bishop’s features softened with evident relief. “You’ve been invaluable, Vanna.”
She responded modestly, “I am merely fulfilling my responsibilities. Post the catastrophic event, remnants of confusion and fear continue to cloud the minds of many. Those untrained in handling such crises are likely hiding in their homes, paralyzed by panic. Even the administrative hub at City Hall is in disarray. Currently, it falls upon the shoulders of seasoned individuals like us to spearhead the city’s restoration.”
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Valentine added, “Once night falls, not only must we guarantee the distribution of gas and candles, but we must also increase the night patrols across the city sectors. Ensure that they carry ample lanterns and candles. And they must be vigilant; after the reality distortion we experienced, our city’s foundational stability is compromised. The slightest mishap could throw us into chaos. Moreover, there are citizens who might still be concealed within the various underground shelters throughout the island. In their ignorance of current events, they may remain hidden. Once their reserve of sacred oil depletes, widespread panic might erupt.”
With resolve in her eyes, Vanna nodded, “Understood. I’ll personally oversee the inspection teams canvassing the shelters tonight.”
Bishop Valentine’s eyes reflected concern as he suggested, “Perhaps it would be best if your deputy handles it. You should rest, Vanna. Your efforts have been monumental. And you’re nursing injuries.”
Brushing off his worry, Vanna retorted, “Upon my return to the cathedral, my wounds have largely healed.” She then scrutinized the elder bishop, “Your wounds, on the other hand, were far more severe than mine.”
Valentine’s expression darkened momentarily, “It’s not fair to compare our situations. Though I’ve been purged of the corruption and even faced death twice after the cataclysm, I can still discern the weariness in your eyes.”
Without offering a rebuttal, Vanna simply turned her gaze to the towering statue of the goddess, lost in contemplation.
Sensing a distinct change in the atmosphere, Valentine eventually ventured, “What’s weighing on your mind?” after a prolonged and awkward silence.
Vanna exhaled slowly, her thoughts seemingly miles away. “I’m grappling with the contents of the latter part of my report,” she admitted, a crease forming between her brows. “Furthermore, I’m wondering how we should relay the gravity of this catastrophe to the Pope.”
A mixture of emotions – contemplation, concern, and perhaps a touch of dread – flickered across Bishop Valentine’s aged face.
After a pause, he said, “In many ways, trying to find a logical explanation might be futile.” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “The undeniable truth is that the arrival of the Vanished nullified the historical contamination caused by the Enders. This action, in turn, prevented the Black Sun from coming into existence. Although the motives behind the phantom captain’s actions remain an enigma, this much is irrefutably true…”
He paused, letting the implications of his words hang in the air. After what felt like an eternity, he added with a somber tone, “The city of Pland owes its survival to the Vanished’s intervention.”
Vanna, deep in thought, proposed a potential motive, “Could it be possible he was after the ‘sun fragment’?” She had clearly ruminated on this theory quite a bit, yet she held back from sharing her entire line of thinking. “Remember the ‘White Oak’? That ship collided directly with the Vanished, and only Anomaly 099 was affected by that encounter. Perhaps Captain Duncan’s intentions were far more straightforward than we’ve speculated.”
Valentine shook his head slowly. “There’s a stark difference between pilfering the sun fragment and merely abducting an anomaly. However, you might be onto something. Given the current evidence and our limited understanding, this theory seems the most plausible. If the Pope seeks clarity, this might be the only viable explanation we can offer. We should relay the events as they unfolded and await insights from the theologists at the Grand Storm Cathedral.”
Vanna gave a soft, almost imperceptible nod, her gaze once again drifting towards the imposing statue of the goddess.
Sensing her continued unease, Valentine probed gently, “Your thoughts seem to be elsewhere, Vanna. We’ve tackled the church’s concerns and the city’s affairs. What else is troubling you?”
With a quiet voice, she replied, “I… I’m alright.”
Bishop Valentine, his eyes filled with understanding, countered, “We’ve shared confidences for countless years. Even though we stand on equal footing within the clergy, you’ve always sought my counsel as a trusted elder. Since your return, I’ve sensed a shadow over you. What transpired?”
Vanna remained silent, her gaze transfixed on the intricately crafted statue of the goddess with a veil. After what seemed like an eternity, her eyes lowered, settling on her own form. The haunting words of Dante Wayne echoed, unbidden, in her mind.
Eleven years prior, during the fiery event where the Enders unleashed the historical contamination, Vanna’s uncle had tried desperately to save her amidst the chaos of the “fire’s origin”. Contrary to the tales told, he hadn’t succeeded in his endeavor.
That tragic night, Vanna should have perished in the flames. Miraculously, she was granted a second chance at life, thanks to the mysterious blessing of subspace.
“Born once again from the ashes, you will face death from this rebirth…” The haunting words of the Ender resonated deeply within her, a persistent echo she couldn’t silence.
Even though she had been resurrected, she hadn’t faced the prophesied second death. This expected fate was interrupted by the sudden appearance of the Vanished.
Today, Vanna found herself alive and well, drawing in the crisp air of life and basking in the warmth of existence.
The benevolent Storm Goddess still favored her, bestowing power and grace upon her, even aiding in her recovery from injuries sustained during a recent battle.
Such circumstances left Vanna in a state of inner turmoil. A devout believer in her faith and in her own strength, she now faced an internal conflict. She questioned why the goddess she worshipped would permit a being that’s linked so closely to subspace to continue living. This quandary shook the very foundation of her beliefs.
Is this the right moment to say
“Everything can be corrupted”
That doesn’t make sense. A few chapters ago multiple people recognised the Vanished.
I wonder if Moriss’s wife has become human again, or is a pile of inert, normal ashes now.