A few hours after the group’s preparation, as the afternoon passed into the evening, all that was left was to depart for their destination. Their airship was preparing for the flight to the capital city of Leandon, where they would then take the train that leads to Adrian’s hometown.

They would be staying in his family's manor for some time, before they shall then continue onwards towards their first official mission as Novice Pathfinders.

That was the plan, and Vincent had no complaints on the matter. But, he did have something in his mind that irked him.

It was that white haired girl, with the emerald and silver eyes. That girl decided that some time ago she would wear an eye-patch, all because she didn't want to lose her other eye for some odd reason.

It was weird, she is weird.

She was calling her parents using her Tome, saying goodbye to them, yet still that just irked him more. It didn't change the issue at hand.

He understood that she was going through some sort of personal issue, akin to mourning and self-isolation, but he could not understand why or what it was. In fact, none of them could, perhaps excluding that dwarf.

He was weird too.

Vincent as a result was frustrated. He prided himself in the ability to read people with his eyes, yet somehow he couldn't do this towards that girl at all. There was no pattern, nothing to analyse. He did in fact achieve that feat before, but now he couldn't. Has a major detail gone missing, or was his observation skill just not that deep to let him know?

He clicked his tongue, his expression was sour. He didn't like this. It reminded him of what had happened before he got to Albion, all those years ago.

The lack of awareness led to him running away. He didn't want another repeat of it, even if the circumstances were different. He was truly at a loss right now.

“Damn it…”

Vincent clenched his fist, gritting his teeth, trying to get his mind off of those rotten memories of his. He did not want to remember that, not now. There couldn't have been a worse time than this to do so. But something else interrupted him.

“You seem to be quite frustrated, Vivi.” The voice from behind said.

It was the dwarven priest that spoke to him, Eldryn. Vincent was still a bit upset about himself, but he opted to somewhat settle down for now. The preacher had decided to stand next to him, as they were observing the ongoings of their team.

Vincent grunted, raking a hand through his hair. “Tch… no shit, smartass,” he muttered. He glanced at Eldryn, narrowing his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be on the airship by now?”

Eldryn turned with a smile. “Ah, yes, but I thought I’d pray first. Besides—” his grin widened “You look like you could use a little help. Want to talk about it?”

Vincent snorted. “Nothing to confess.” He crossed his arms. “And why bother praying now? Can’t you do that during the trip?”

Eldryn raised an eyebrow, amused. “Ever thought about why people wish each other good luck before big moments?”

Vincent opened his mouth to answer—then stopped. He frowned, frustrated. “...Damnit. Can’t argue with that.” He exhaled sharply, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit.

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Eldryn chuckled softly, “In any case, I know you're stressed out, Vincent.” He said, “We both know that I can see souls. But I don't really need it to exactly notice that, it just makes it easier.”

“And that helped you how…?” Vincent asked. He was a bit confused, considering he had no deep knowledge about souls in any way, apart from what he read for assignments.

“I can see the state of people's spirits in general, not just its qualities and blessings.” He explained, “And yours, it’s like you're experiencing a storm. Lying about your mental state wouldn't work on me. So, you wanna talk about it?”

Vincent clicked his tongue again, “Still ain't tellin’ ya. It's none of your business.”

Eldryn hummed, “Well, that's fine.” He said, “But you need to know this, at least.”

Vincent looked at him with a curious eye, “The hell ya wanna say to me, preacher?”

Eldryn was very short, that much was obvious, to the point that one could lose him in a crowd if it weren't for his bizarre attire. But right now, he presented himself as someone larger than him. This could potentially be a strength of his, his charisma, apart from his unwavering faith.

“I want you to have faith.” And that was the main strength he wanted to impart to the cowboy.

“You spend your time trying to understand something, to be aware of something, because that's your strength.” He said, “You have a good eye for recognising things, but maybe you should try and learn how to have faith in things you can't see?”

“The hell…?” Vincent was still confused however, scoffing him off, parting his gaze from him. “Not a chance. I ain't delusional.” He said in turn.

Eldryn smiled, unbothered. “Faith isn’t delusion, Vincent. It’s trusting that, even when you can’t see the whole picture, there’s something there that holds value. It's more akin to hope than delusion.”

Vincent’s fists tightened, but he didn’t look back. “And you’re just gonna sit there, ‘hoping’ things will make sense?”

Eldryn chuckled. “No, but I have faith they will. And you could too, if you’d let yourself.”

The dwarf gazed upon the rest of their team, particularly towards that grieving individual in question, “That girl, Marilyn, is in pain. We all know that. Her spirit is experiencing a far darker storm unlike yours.” He said, catching Vincent’s attention again despite him not looking at the priest at all. “Yet I don't even know why that could happen. I can probably ask, but that would most likely end in her being quiet about it. However…”

“You're delusional?” Vincent interrupted, crossing his arms again as he returned his gaze back to Eldryn.

“I’m faithful, that's what. I’m hopeful that her storm will subside.” He corrected, with a small smile, “Try to have faith in things you can't seem to understand yet, try to hope that you will comprehend them at some point in time. You have the capacity to do it, you just need to take that step, Man From Arcadia.”

The dwarven priest, as soon as he parted that message towards the cowboy, left his side towards the rest of their group. Vincent looked on, his arms still crossed, visibly still a bit stoic about this.

For some reason, his words made sense. And that just frustrated him even more.

Faith. The word alone made him tense. It was such a simple idea for someone like Eldryn—someone who could see souls and storms within people. But Vincent didn’t have the luxury of trusting things he couldn’t see.

Faith couldn't keep someone alive. Awareness did. Knowing what came next, reading people, that was what mattered. Not hoping the answer would just reveal itself one day.

His gaze drifted toward Marilyn again. She was hurting—he could see that much—but what was he supposed to do with that? Just trust that he’d figure it out eventually? That wasn’t how he worked. He needed answers. But the harder he tried to read her, the more lost he felt.

Eldryn’s words echoed in his mind, that faith isn’t delusion, it’s hope. But to Vincent, hope had always felt like a risk—one he wasn’t willing to take. He clenched his fists, teeth grinding. The idea of waiting, of not knowing, crawled under his skin. He wasn’t built for that kind of uncertainty. Patience was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

But that feminine dwarf’s words stuck with him, no matter how hard he tried to shake them. Maybe—just maybe—he was holding too tight to his need to understand everything. Maybe some things didn’t come with answers right away.

He clicked his tongue, irritation simmering beneath the surface. “Damn preacher.” He thought to himself.

Why did his words make sense? Why did they have to get under his skin like this?

The storm wouldn’t pass on its own. He knew that. And yet, something about what Eldryn said stirred something he didn’t want to acknowledge, that perhaps he was right, in some capacity. But for now—

“Tch…forget it.”

He would try to ignore it, heading towards the air vehicle that was now about to depart for the capital. He won't be discarding Eldryn's words, because it still held some value, but his frustrations about it he would certainly try to forget.