Divine Wisdom

The storm had subsided. Moons of crimson and azure unveiled themselves, decorating the night sky with their immaculate presence. Not to be outdone, the Goddess’ Harp arched between the moons, with shades of grey organised into concentric bands. In their gracious light, complemented by the flames’ merry dance on crackling firewood, was the Guildmaster and the young lady.

The young lady’s story told, George Hammersmith reassessed the young lady in front of him. Perhaps still shocked from the initial encounter, the battle-hardened Guildmaster still had difficulties associating her story of violence, strife and grief with the lady’s delicate, melancholic appearance. It wasn’t the first time he felt such disparity; he had felt the same about many adventurers, male or female, young or old; judging adventurers by appearance always ends badly. His experience with Celestia and Marguerite should have further prepared him for such situations; yet, familiar as he was to his predicament, he struggled for words.

And thus, he prayed to the Goddess.

“O Arcania of the Gracious Light, Lady of All Creations, sacred be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on land as it is in heaven-”

“Hey, don’t just start praying all the sudden. It’s creepy as hell.” The young lady interrupted him, her previous melancholy disappeared without a trace. “What’s wrong with people of this country, sprouting Gods and Goddesses and ghosts and nonsense like that.”

“Well, I think that’s a natural reaction to some dead people climbing out of graves and starting to blabber about biblical references.” A slightly annoyed George talked back.

“Biblical references?” The young lady appeared clueless.

“A world where letters can be sent and received instantly; where metal birds fly in the sky; where horseless carriages dominate the roads sounds biblical to me.”

“Is that so? Those things are pretty common on Earth. Maybe not in some places, but in Britain definitely-”

“‘Britain’? The Promised Land, the Heaven for the righteous to dwell in after death, our Elysium? O Lady of the Gracious Light, may your blessings be upon-”

“Britain, the Promised Land and the Heaven?” The young lady laughed at the notion. “Your religion is pretty grim, it seems. It’s the first time I’ve heard the word ‘Elysium’ too.”

“…That’s what the Scriptures --- what the Church says, anyways.” The Guildmaster was not visibly annoyed, having been interrupted twice. “I’ve encountered other faiths that says the heavens are called ‘Freins’ or ‘Mesico’ or something like that…”

“Pretty odd choices too. One is an avant-garde country that defies all sanity, and the other is a struggling empire in decline. If anything, Switzerland or the Dutch Republic would have been better choices.”

“So the Ektonian Sect was right, then?”

The young lady appeared to be bewildered. “There are people who actually think the Netherlands is the heaven?”

“Yes.”

“…Your religions are wild. But you surely know a lot about it; not just about your own religion, but also about other faiths.”

“…Well, I just happened to be interested.” The Guildmaster paused briefly. “In any case, I now know you are an otherworlder, stuck in Estella’s body because of the Goddess’ will. You encountered someone who wanted your life, defeated them, and after two days, your- I mean, Estella’s memories started coming back to you. You then decided to look for an old comrade for help.”

“Correct. It’s not quite ‘memories’ per se though; it is more like watching a film about someone else’s life… But much of it is still hazy. I need some help to survive. I need an accommodation, a way to make money --- but most importantly, information.”

“If you don’t have any money, I wonder how you survived for two days.” Unable to comprehend the strange words like “feem”, the Guildmaster instead chose to ask something else.

“I made use of the knights’ final donation.” The young lady took out a bag of gold coins from her sack. “I was worried at first, but it appears that normal citizens don’t recognise me at all. I was able to procure some supplies, but it was troublesome that every clothing store in the Noble’s Quarter only sold frilly dresses…”

“Princess Celestia was known for her long, striking raven-coloured hair and crimson eyes, after all.” George Hammersmith replied. “Very few people knew she wore a magical camouflage to become an adventurer, and you even cut your hair. I am more surprised that you know the shops in the Noble’s Quarter at all, given how much they changed over the years. If you got your knowledge from Estella’s memories, then it must be out of date.”

“Perhaps it’s time to check my knowledge, then? Part of the reason why I came here was because I remembered you are knowledgeable…”

“And the other part of the reason?”

“That you are a trustworthy old man.” The young lady smirked.

George Hammersmith let out a sigh; Estella and the young lady before him might be one and the same in appearance, but their personalities are nothing alike. “Fine,” he replied, “what do you know about Rastania?”

------------------------------

“…and while the Royal Capital Asturia was carved out of land once belonged to the Archduchy of Albion, it is now under direct jurisdiction of the King. Today, with a population of about 672,000, the city-”

“…That’s enough. It does seem that you have enough common knowledge,” the Guildmaster interrupted the young lady, “you know too much, in fact. No one knows how many people there are in Asturia.”

“Why? Wouldn’t those working for the Palace know?”

“Well, more than six hundred thousand is their best guess. The last census was conducted fifty years ago, after all, and the current census had just started. I don’t know where you got that number from, but if you are not making stuff up…”

The Guildmaster made a gesture and pointed towards the heavens.

“That it must have come from God- no, the Goddess, huh.”

“Precisely.”

“Maybe you have a point. The answer for your questions just popped up in my head, after all, and I knew I haven’t heard of them from anyone. Celestia probably didn’t know the exact population of the capital, either.

“…But I refuse to believe a Goddess exists. It must be some magick that implanted the knowledge in me. By some mundane mortal, nonetheless.” The young lady did not appreciate the suggestion.

“I never heard of a mage capable of that… In any case, we now know your common knowledge is solid, but you are still being chased by the Royal Knights. I suppose the next step is to get you out of the capital, maybe get you on a ship to the colonies or the Grunewald Confederacy, and get you certified at the local Adventurers’ Guild-”

“Oh, thanks but no thanks. I think I’ve troubled you enough, and I know someone who is in a better position to offer me protection.” The young lady smiled, as she stood up and prepared to leave.

“Another person? Who would even… ah! Tell me, you are not going to visit her, right?” The Guildmaster, in shock, stood up himself.

“Yes. I think I will pay Marguerite – no, the Countess Palatine a visit.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

It has been a while since I last updated --- IRL has been hard on me and I barely had time. I aim to restart writing regularly soon.

Thanks for your support and I hope you enjoy the story.