Elincia slammed the door behind her and left the kitchen. I had never seen her so mad, yet I understood her feelings. Nothing could erase a decade of constant fear and suffering, not even the fact that Astrid and Risha had good intentions. Whether it was due to bad fortune or youthful inexperience, Elincia had to watch generations of orphans get sent to the frontlines.
“Elincia hasn’t changed a bit. She has always been like this. Emotional, stubborn, spoiled,” Astrid said without a shred of sympathy. “She never bothered listening to the other side of the story.”
I couldn’t say I knew the same Elincia that Astrid described. Although Elincia was quick to anger, she was also quick to forgive. Despite my reckless actions, Elincia always showed more concern for my well-being. Although she was grumpy sometimes, it was because she cared too much for everyone at the orphanage.
I wondered why Astrid didn’t see the same in Elincia.
“You two never got along?” I asked, putting the kettle back on the stove. I needed more caffeine, or at least the placebo effect. I wasn’t actually sure if the Green Moss had any.
I saw a long night in my future. My body couldn’t tolerate more Energy Potions, and my reserves of Moss Tea were dwindling. But the winter was ending, and we could finally relax after the tournament. Until then, it seemed I was trapped in an after-hours loop.
“Would you trust me more if I told you about my life at the orphanage?” Astrid asked, her voice perfectly calm despite Elincia’s outburst.
I couldn't tell whether she was pragmatic or desperate, but it was a good sign. If the Church of the System had the power to fix Astrid’s Quest, she wouldn’t be here tonight. She needed my help to deal with her defective Quest.
“Tell me,” I said, suspecting there was something she needed to get off of her chest.
Astrid sipped from her cup for the first time that night. She smiled and, for a moment, she seemed more human and less Zealot.
“You might not know this, but initially, the orphanage was devised as one of Mister Lowell’s science projects,” Astrid explained. “Mister Lowell wanted to prove to the world that upbringing was more important than birth in the eyes of the System, so he turned his manor into an orphanage and filled it with the best artists, craftsmen, and researchers in this corner of the kingdom.”
Astrid’s words surprised me. Although Byrne’s journals characterized Mister Lowell as a hardcore researcher, I never saw him as anything other than Elincia’s loving father and mentor. I gave Astrid a questioning look.
“Don’t get me wrong. The orphanage started as a science project, but we slowly learned to be a family. I arrived at Farcrest as a refugee from a Monster Surge, and Mister Lowell showed me nothing but kindness,” Astrid continued, fiddling with her cup without drinking the contents. “He is the only father I have ever known, but he only had eyes for Elincia. She was Mister Lowell’s favorite despite constantly acting like a complete idiot: she skipped classes, snuck out to the Farlands, and got in more trouble with the city guards than I could count. Nothing she did seemed to bother Mister Lowell.”
Her tone was so bitter I couldn’t help but pity her.
“That doesn’t help your case. If anything, it seems you were jealous of Elincia,” I pointed out.
Astrid raised an eyebrow.
“I was jealous. I wanted Mister Lowell to notice me, but I always lacked that ‘something’ that made Elincia stand out. She might be hot-headed, but she’s also smart, capable, and sociable,” Astrid said. “Now that I think about it, I might have become a Zealot because I always wanted to please Mister Lowell, but I was never up to the task.”
I nodded in silence, remembering all the times Elincia told me about her small adventures with Mister Lowell: a quick shopping trip to the market followed by a stop at a bakery, a small incursion to the Azure River to gather aquatic herbs and a hunting trip into the Farlands. I never questioned the absence of other orphans. I assumed Risha and Elincia were the only ones who liked to follow Mister Lowell wherever he went. In reality, those two were the ones who didn’t conform to the orphanage's rules.
It was ironic but not unheard of for the most unruly students to have a closer relationship with teachers. At the end of the day, a competent teacher paid more attention to those who needed it than those who performed as expected.
Astrid sighed. “I don’t blame Elincia. Mister Lowell and her had many things in common. I’m sure Elincia also has her favorites. It’s only natural to bond easily with certain people.”
Just then, I noticed Astrid didn’t blame the present Elincia but the teenager she used to know.
“Elincia doesn’t have favorites. She treats everyone the same way,” I cut her off.
“Really?” Astrid asked.
“Absolutely,” I replied. “Elincia does reign with an iron fist, though.”
Astrid let out a weak laugh.
“I might have underestimated her,” she said. “When I heard the Rosebud Academy was the talk of the town, I was happy. Mister Lowell wanted to see a group of orphans catching nobles by surprise. He wanted to show them that what matters isn't the circumstances of our birth but what we do with our time.”
I nodded.
Those were strange words coming from someone forced to act as the System's eyes and arms. At least, it was easy to tell Astrid loved Mister Lowell and the orphanage. Despite her ties to the Church, I might be able to trust her with my secrets. If the situation were as dire as the System Avatar made it seem, we would need all the help possible.
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I wondered if it was destiny or maybe Mister Lowell’s spirit guiding needy misfits to the orphanage's steps. It didn’t matter. I was glad to have the opportunity to help so many people.
“Do your higher-ups know about your Quest?” I asked, and Astrid let out a sigh of relief.
“Yes,” Astrid nodded. “They believe I was meant to meet you before the System revealed the rest of the Quest. That wasn’t the case, of course. I met you at the Great Hall, but nothing happened.”
Of course, it wasn’t. Whatever the Quest-giving subroutine had prepared for me differed from what the System Avatar wanted. I was a potential threat with the ability to rewrite the System’s code. It was safe to assume the System Avatar edited Astrid’s Quest to protect me, but his protection might not be permanent.
No matter how much I wanted to help Astrid, I couldn’t accept her into our closest circle if she would become the System’s hitman.
“Last question,” I said, dead serious. This was the nuclear question. “What would you do if the System asks you to harm the orphanage?”
Astrid fell silent as if she hadn’t considered that option. Then, her eyes met mine. All traces of her Zealot persona disappeared.
“If the System would ask me to harm the orphanage, I would go for a walk to clear my mind—into the Farlands,” Astrid slowly replied.
A shiver ran down my spine. There was no sign of deceit in Astrid expression or a trace of doubt in her words.
“If you can keep the secret from your superiors, then we have a deal,” I said, but my voice quivered before Astrid’s determination.
“I don’t have superiors in the strict meaning of the word. Most Zealots work with the Church because it’s convenient. The System provides us with Skills to accomplish our Quests, and the Church provides us with lodging, food, and funds,” Astrid shrugged. “I will not rat out the orphanage.”
“Really? I thought you were more… fanatic,” I said.
“Some devote their lives to the System; not only Zealots, but Scholars, Alchemists, Craftsmen, Merchants, and others. They believe the Church is the embodiment of the System in the material world, and it might be,” Astrid said. “But don’t get me wrong. Quests are given by the System, not the Church. If the System wants the High Priest dead and the Church disbanded, we will obey.”
I wasn’t sure if Astrid sounded sad or just tired.
The whole idea of the Zealots being full-time servants of the System was saddening. I remembered my old boss calling me every few minutes to pester me about non-existent deadlines. Zealots had it worse. They couldn’t even sleep without feeling the System’s call.
Helping Astrid was risky. The System could always turn against me if the security subroutines learned I planned to change its code. However, denying her assistance left a bad taste in my mouth. Whether I liked it or not, her current situation was due to my presence in this world.
“As long as you promise me you will not hurt the orphanage directly or indirectly, I will do my best to help you,” I said.
Astrid gave me an understanding glance.
“I swear. As long as my name is Astrid Lowell, my actions will never harm the orphanage or its inhabitants,” she brought her hand to her heart. “... and I will do my best to mend things with Elincia.”
[Awareness] told me she was being honest, even the last part. I closed my eyes and emptied my cup of Moss Tea. It tasted sweet. Compared to Elincia’s Energy Potions, the blend barely ignited a spark of vigor. The most pragmatic part of my brain told me I could put half of my chores on Astrid’s shoulders, although I quickly silenced it.
“Can we continue our conversation elsewhere? There is something I want to do,” Astrid said, standing and walking to the doorway.
I nodded and followed her into the backyard.
“Do you need help?” Astrid asked. Her eyes gleamed like a cat’s, and her androgynous features gave her a mysterious aura.
“The System likes me. I can see in the dark,” I replied.
Astrid needed no guidance through the manor’s grounds. Despite the years passed, she navigated through the backyard without hesitation. She walked towards the grove, easily dodging the gray-barked trees and the protruding roots on the ground. After a minute, the white tombstones emerged in the circular clearing. It had been only a couple weeks since I had last set foot on the orphanage’s cemetery, but it seemed a lifetime had passed since then.
“Hey, Father, it’s been a while,” Astrid said, kneeling before Mister Lowell’s grave and cleaning a small piece of lichen from the surface.
I stood at a polite distance, but Astrid’s attention didn’t linger on the gravestone for long. She turned around and, with a hand movement, she summoned a System prompt. The blue square with silvery letters gleamed in the darkness—Robert Clarke at Farcrest.
“Do you know what it means?” Astrid asked.
Without the golden mask covering her face, the question didn’t sound as menacing as before.
“Yes. It means you must either protect or stop me,” I replied.
The prompt quivered mid-air, but the words remained the same.
“The Man in Yellow gave me a Quest, but, at the same time, another part of the System doesn’t want me to complete it. The same happens with your Quest. The System wants you to help or stop me simultaneously,” I explained.
Astrid tapped on her lips with a thoughtful expression.
“In any other circumstance, I would’ve taken you as a madman, but I saw what happened inside the Aias kid’s trance. The Man in Yellow and the Voice of the System were different entities yet the same, both the System,” Astrid sighed. She was taking the news like a champ for someone who had a mystical revelation.
“This is your last chance to back out. I will show you something that might change your Quest for better or worse,” I said.
Astrid shook her head, and her black hair fell on her face, hiding her expression.
“You don’t understand Robert Clarke. This might be my first true choice in a decade. Whatever happens, I will be happy with the result,” Astrid said, saddened.
I took a deep breath. With the tournament around the corner and the System Avatar’s cryptic warning haunting me, I couldn’t help but feel at the edge of a precipice. I smiled, remembering Elincia’s words. ‘You are not alone.’
I grabbed a loose piece of granite from one of the unmarked gravestones and put it in the palm of my hand. Effortlessly, mana flew through my body and into the stone, illuminating the groove. The light rune appeared on the pebble’s surface, and a moment later, darkness reigned again. In my hand, there was a newly minted light stone.
“Enchanting?” Astrid asked, unconvinced of her assessment.
I blinked repeatedly. Despite the completion of the light stone, the environmental mana pulsated with energy. It vaguely reminded me of the Lich’s area spell; however, I couldn’t feel any hostile presence this time.
“Runeweaving,” I replied, summoning my Character Sheet and turning it around.
Astrid’s eyes shot wide open.
[Awareness] suddenly warned me about imminent danger. I spied through the shadows, but there wasn’t a single soul other than Astrid and me in the groove. Then, out of nowhere, a black substance emerged from the ground, blinding me.