Ghosts of the Past (3)
Elijah let out a small sigh as he returned to the annex after seeing Sera off. A saintess's pilgrimage was inevitably fraught with danger. She had to expose herself directly to the barriers that demons were constantly eyeing. That was why she traveled with escort knights and the order.
...She'll be fine.
He knew Isabel's skills well. After all, he'd been the one to teach her the sword. She'd been a junior who shadowed him like a ghost. Perhaps because he'd given her private lessons now and then, even five years ago, Isabel had reached a level where no one in the order could match her except him and Kalliden.
She must have grown even stronger now that she was guarding the saintess.
As Elijah reminisced about old memories, a wry smile tugged at his lips unbidden.
Kyle, Rohan, Isabel...
He'd thought the whole world had abandoned him, but there were still people who believed in him. He didn't show it outwardly, but a heavy warmth settled in his chest.
Suddenly, Elijah thought back to himself before meeting Sera. Days of drowning in booze every night, barely clinging to life.
"......"
All of that now felt like ancient history. He had a clear goal these days: track down the ones who'd framed him, protect Sera, and never repeat the same mistakes.
To do that, he had to clear his name and reclaim his old position.
Elijah picked up his cloak.
Time to check in with Rohan.
It had been a while since he'd asked for his help. There should be some results by now.
Pulling his hood low, Elijah slipped cautiously out the door.
The Gray Merchant Guild's operations could be divided into three main areas. First, distribution of foodstuffs and sundries. Second, information trading—from palace secrets to the movements of social circles. And finally, mercenary referrals.
The guild was the largest referral agency in the capital. Given its scale, that wasn't surprising. Protecting a merchant caravan required force, but private soldiers were illegal, so mercenaries filled the gap. Business being irregular led to idle mercenaries, and rather than let them loaf, the guild started lining up external jobs—before long, it had become the capital's top agency.
Elijah slowly scanned the referral hall. In one corner, men bellowed over dice games; in another, someone sprawled snoring. The air was thick with the stench of booze and rust.
Spotting Rohan at last, he headed over. Rohan leaned against the second-floor railing, poring over documents.
Elijah approached quietly and stood beside him.
"Find what I asked for?"
"Whoa, you scared me."
Rohan nearly dropped his papers, grumbling.
"Make some noise when you walk, man. Nearly gave me a heart attack."
Elijah just shrugged silently.
Rohan glanced around, then whispered,
"Follow me. Let's talk somewhere quiet."
Elijah trailed him deeper inside. They wove through a narrow path between crates to a small partitioned room. Rohan shut the door.
He grabbed a bottle from the table and poured a glass.
"Want one?"
"......Quit."
"Fair enough."
Rohan tossed back the strong liquor in one gulp. He exhaled roughly, flashing a sly grin.
"Ahh, now that's the stuff."
Elijah sank into the sofa opposite and asked,
"So, did you find it?"
"Impatient as ever. Not like that's new for you, though...."
Rohan chuckled. He poured another glass and continued,
"Anyway, yeah, I found it. But...."
He sighed softly.
"...He was already dead. Years ago. Just barely found the body in his house."
Elijah furrowed his brow.
"...Know who killed him?"
"Nope. Just bones left. But they missed something."
Rohan downed his glass calmly. After setting it down, he pulled a small notebook from his pocket and tossed it on the desk.
"Found the ledger."
"......A ledger?"
Elijah flipped it open and skimmed quickly. It recorded dates and amounts of money exchanged. The last entry was five years ago—a few days before Lien's assault.
"This...."
He looked at Rohan, who nodded.
"Definitely the guy you were after. But check the end—that's the real kicker."
Elijah flipped through. Something fluttered out from the back: a bloodstained rosario. In its center gleamed a purple ornament.
All too familiar to Elijah.
"......The cardinal."
It was the rosario used by the priests under Cardinal Belliar.
Rohan sighed, watching Elijah fall silent.
"Yeah. Probably him. This just got messy, Elijah."
Elijah didn't reply. Thoughts raced through his mind.
If the cardinal's behind it...
The cardinal was third in the church hierarchy after the pope and saintess. He had the power and means to frame him.
But....
"...Why?"
Elijah met Rohan's eyes. He shrugged.
"Like I'd know what's rattling around in that old creep's head?"
Elijah bit his lip. He'd gotten a lead on his framers, but that wasn't the issue now.
Kalliden.
The cardinal was watching Sera. If he was plotting something else in the shadows, Elijah had to stop it.
Suppressing his rising impatience, he told Rohan,
"......Dig more on the cardinal. Who he meets, where he goes. Everything."
"......"
Rohan eyed him a moment, then chugged straight from the bottle. Emptying it, he said,
"...Heh, fine. Since we're in it, I'll see it through. But you owe me one."
Elijah nodded. Rising, he added,
"If you find anything, look for Kyle in the knight order. Contact him."
"Got it."
Elijah lingered a moment, then pulled his hood down and left the room.
The same moment.
Lien was in the prayer room. She knelt before a small goddess statue against one wall. Faint light filtered through the windows, softly illuminating it.
She clasped her hands neatly.
"......Goddess."
A soft whisper escaped her lips. From the day she was chosen as saintess to this very moment, Lien had prayed to the goddess without fail, not a single day skipped.
Today was no different.
"...I've lived by your will all this time. I've followed your teachings, done what's right as you desire. Repelled demons, saved people... I was a good girl, wasn't I? A good child."
Her murmuring fingers trembled faintly.
"So......"
Now return my brother to me.
She swallowed the words inwardly. As children entering the church, she and Elijah had made a promise: she would become saintess and help people; he would be her knight forever.
But.
Serve the empire?
No. Lien could no longer do that. She didn't want to.
The princess who stole Elijah, the ones who framed him—they were all part of the empire, weren't they? There was proof the empire had planted spies in the church. Without the pope's help, both she and Elijah would have died.
For five years, she'd frantically purged them—rooting out spies, expelling traitors.
Yet her brother hadn't returned. He hadn't smiled at her. Hadn't listened to her fully. He didn't acknowledge her efforts, her sacrifices.
It left her feeling unfairly slighted, lonely.
"......"
Lien shook her head.
...No, brother did nothing wrong.
As the pope said, Elijah simply wasn't ready yet. So she had to be the perfect saintess as promised. Then he'd remember and come back.
Comforting herself, she cautiously drew on her divine power.
"......!"
Her heart twisted like it was being wrung. A splitting headache followed.
"Ngh...."
She clutched her chest instinctively. Her vision flashed white, then darkness surged in. The light blooming at her fingertips vanished without a cry.
Her lungs felt clogged, suffocating.
"Hah, hah...."
Lien braced a hand on the cold floor, gasping raggedly.
It had been four years now. At first, just a slight stuffiness—focus, and she could draw it out. But using divine power grew harder bit by bit... and after reuniting with Elijah, the symptoms worsened rapidly.
Her innate power had been so vast that even these leaking traces sufficed for saintess duties.
But lately, even a little triggered heart seizures. Her body shuddered violently.
After enduring the agony in silence, Lien slowly rose. She laid her trembling hands on her knees and bowed her head again.
"...I beg you. Please......"
Lien prayed to the goddess through the night.
But that night, too, the goddess gave no answer.