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Ira’s Faithful
Chapter 9 - Monastery

Chapter 9 - Monastery

Fiona had worked for roughly four hours in the mayor’s mansion. Her hands hurt like hell, and she could feel her skin blistering. The youngest daughter of the mayor had thrown a tantrum and had accidentally spilt all her food on the ground. Cleaning the carpet had been extremely time-consuming.

She took a deep breath and left the estate’s property. To her surprise, the Seer was waiting for her in front of the entrance. The two guards guarding the gate did their best to ignore her.

Fiona noticed a young boy standing behind the lady and wondered why he was there. She had lived in the Empire for more than ten years, but it was still as foreign to her as it had been in the beginning.

She did not know what a Seer was or who the boy was who followed the woman. In her homeland, religion did not play a big role. Like many who were connected to the sea, she prayed to the Lord of the Sea and asked that the sea be calm. But that was all.

The Seer looked at her and smiled before saying, “I am pleased to meet you. My name is Loretta Schanz. I am a Seer.”

Fiona slightly bowed, a custom she was still not accustomed to, before saying, “I am pleased to meet you… Seer. I have been told that you wanted to talk to me.”

The blonde woman nodded, “Yes. I am terribly sorry, but I couldn't help but look into your daughter’s fate. Yet we should probably talk somewhere else. There is a monastery nearby and the abbot agreed to my selfish request to visit it with you.”

She halted and asked, "How is your daughter doing?"

"Good," Fiona replied, "Heidi told me that her health is better than before."

"That is wonderful," the Seer mumbled, "But I suppose that we should hurry. The old man dislikes it when one is too late."

The group of three wandered through the street and Fiona noticed the gazes that were thrown at them. She knew that this was due to the two strangers and not because of her. Their gazes were not those of pity or fear but of reverence.

Roughly ten minutes later they reached the edge of the town. A small wall made of stone surrounded it. There she saw that the formerly wooden watchtowers now were made of stone. Fiona noticed two guards in one of the towers, each armed with a rifle. Her husband had told her long ago that the watchtowers were the result of almost a hundred years of tradition, rifles. Rifles were able to kill lesser demonic beasts and ordinary monsters. Regardless, in Baelgia rifles had been a rarity. No mage used them, and rifles were far too expensive for a commoner to buy.

However, in the Empire, almost all members of the militia were armed with a rifle. She did not know how humans created such complicated weaponry and how they were able to produce them in such large quantities. Rumour claimed that rifles weren’t weapons mady by humans. Rifles had been created by the dwarves to compensate for their lack of offensive magic. They had revealed their secrets to the humans in exchange for protection and trade, something that made sense but still sounded rather far-fetched.

Fiona noticed that they had reached their goal, the monastery. It was a rather large building made of grey stone. It looked beautiful. Fiona especially liked the colourful windows. They not only looked rather exquisite and expensive but also conveyed the many tales about the religion. She did not know much about the Celestials but she could boldly claim that the windows conveyed enough for most to understand the Celestials and their tales.

They entered the monastery and one of the many nuns brought them into a spacious garden. An elderly man wearing black robes and a chain with a golden cross sat next to a tree on a chair made of plants. His back was turned towards them, and he was looking at the old and huge tree in the centre of the garden.

“Abbot Mario,” the Seer said, “I thank you for your hospitality.”

The old man turned around and Fiona noticed his grey and glassy eyes. She quickly realised that he was blind. Yet he seemed to be able to see. He looked directly at the seer, then at the herald and finally at herself. Fiona wondered how he had managed that. Was he perhaps a powerful mage? She had read that experienced and powerful aeromancers could see with the wind and that pyromancers could sense a person's temperature.

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“There is no need to thank me, Seer,” the abbot replied, “I am just fulfilling my duty. But I cannot help but be curious. Why are you here with someone not born in these lands?”

Fiona sensed that his words were merely due to curiosity and not to ridicule her. This was a welcome change in treatment. He looked towards her and smiled, “But you do not need to worry. My brothers’ friends are also my friends.”

The Seer lightly coughed before saying, “I’ve seen the fate of her daughter. It was obscured by an unknown power, perhaps that of a minor god. Yet the small glimpse into her fate allowed me to see three paths of her future.”

“Please continue,” the abbot said, “Tea?”

The Seer shook her head, and the abbot focused his gaze at her. Fiona also shook her head, wondering if he had been able to see that.

“Very well, then there is more for me,” the abbot mumbled, apparently somehow having seen that the Seer and Fiona had shaken their head. He raised his voice and said, “Now, please sit down. There is enough space for us all.”

Several small flowers in the garden started to quickly grow and formed several chairs. It was an unbelievable thing Fiona was witnessing. Just how powerful was he?

"Then, Seer, why is it necessary for you to speak to someone who is not involved in your guidance?" the abbot asked. "I believe that those who can catch a glimpse of the future may only reveal a fraction of what they have seen. And what they reveal is only to help those who need guidance ... And I doubt that guidance is needed in this case."

The Seer nodded, “Yes, your assumption is correct. But there are exceptions.”

Fiona noticed that a nun handed a pot filled with a colourful liquid, perhaps tea, to a golem made of flowers. The nun quickly had left the garden and Fiona wondered why. The golem slowly walked towards the abbot and he grabbed the pot before nodding thankfully. The golem grew smaller and smaller before it vanished. He then looked at the Seer and said, “Please continue.”

"There is a path that your daughter could take. It is a path that no one should take, and Fate itself has ordered me to ensure that this does not happen.... ", the Seer began, while the abbot poured the tea into his cup.

He took a sip before calmly asking, "Fate revealed something to you?"

"That was what I wondered when we left and what worried me. Why would a little girl be noticed by Fate?" the seer began, pausing to take a deep breath, "At first I didn't have an answer, I just knew I had to talk to her mother. But the more time passed, the clearer my vision became."

"Then I had a vision. A vision that you," she looked Fiona in the eye, "would die if we didn't speak today. Your death would lead to Elise trying to find out why you died. She would set out to find those responsible, but she would leave a trail of blood and carnage in her wake. This would be the only path she would follow, something Fate itself forbids for reasons I do not know."

The Seer stared at Fiona and her eyes started glowing with white light, “ I found out why you died… you were cursed years, perhaps even a decade or more, ago. Even now I can see your curse and it has not weakened.”

The abbot looked at Fiona and Fiona felt that something was inspecting her. It was powerful and felt ancient, almost as if she was in the presence something that wasn’t of this world. Yet as quickly as this feeling had come, it had also gone.

"Indeed, a curse that sucks out your life. It was a wise decision to use holy water, but it only delays the inevitable," the abbot explained. He took a sip from his half-filled cup and angrily murmured something Fiona could not understand.

The Seer nodded, “Yes. This is true. But that is not something that needs to happen. Her path can be changed. We can change her path. This is Fate’s wish.”

Fiona could not really follow the conversation. She understood what they had said. She knew that she was cursed but why should she die? There was nothing wrong with the curse. She still used as much holy water as she had used previously. Everything they had said sounded so unbelievable.

The Seer halted and looked into Fiona’s eyes, “Fiona, you need to live. This is something Fate wishes.Your life is worth more than you can imagine.”

The abbot asked, "Loretta, have you also found out how to cure her? Because I can't seem to find a way."

The seer smiled before saying, "It is a curse that ceases to be when the caster dies. But I wasn't able to see who the causer was. That is why you are here, Fiona."

Fiona found everything that happened hard to believe. In her home countries, no one claimed to see anyone's fate or future. But in this country? People who could obviously existed. Yet her dicision as clear. She would reveal the name of the merchant who had cursed her and her sister. Not because the church was trying to help her. No. She had seen enough of this world to know that this was not about her.

The young woman still couldn't believe that Elise, her little daughter, would hurt anyone. Elise was so kind and aspired to be something as great as a hero. What she had been told was in stark contrast to how she saw Elise. But people could change. She knew that.

“We need to break this curse to save your life. If you die, your daughter… may cease to be herself,” the Seer started, “But we don’t have much time. So please Fiona, for the sake your daughter, give us the name of the person who cursed you.”

Fiona sighed, “Abbot, I assume that the brother you were talking about was Priest Germund.”

"That is indeed correct," the old man replied, "and he told me that you are ... were Christopher's wife. May his soul rest in peace. We have all lost friends and loved ones in this accursed battle. But Brother Germund told me nothing more."

“Then he has kept his promise,” Fiona mumbled and took a deep breath, “This is the third time that I tell someone the story of practically half of my life.”