The moon and the road

Horace Loux's words echoed in the dusk.

The giant tortoise Miriel's gaze remained gentle, his clerical hat trembling slightly in the evening breeze.

But the gaze beneath the visor of the female knight clad in silver-blue armor-Rellana-suddenly sharpened.

She did not respond immediately, merely adjusting her stance slightly, her right hand resting seemingly casually on the hilt of one of the paired swords at her waist.

The air seemed to grow a little stiller at her attitude. The evening breeze swept across the flagstones before the church, stirring a few dead leaves with a soft rustle.

"A lost traveler?" Rellana finally spoke, her voice coming through her visor, clear yet carrying a metallic chill that formed a curious contrast with her elegant appearance.

Her command of the common tongue was impeccable, even bearing a hint of an ancient cadence.

"Following your heart's guidance? That excuse is rather too vague. This is a place where bonds are forged, and your attire is entirely out of place in this land."

Her attitude could hardly be called friendly; it even carried obvious scrutiny and distance.

Dressed in barbarian-style leather armor stained with the dust of a long journey and a faint scent of blood, Horace Loux did indeed look very different from the common folk usually seen in Liurnia.

Yet, as she had said, this was the Church of Vows, a peaceful place guarded by Miriel.

Though Rellana was wary, she showed no intention of immediately driving him away or taking him prisoner.

"The arrival of an unfamiliar guest is always accompanied by questions and caution. Such is only natural," Miriel's slow, deep voice rang out.

He turned his enormous head toward Horace Loux.

"Young warrior, your heart seems to carry the hardships of distant lands and weighty concerns. Since you have come here, why not set aside the edge of your weapons for now and speak of your troubles? All things can be conjoined, for there are no distinctions in this world."

The giant tortoise's gentle manner eased the tense atmosphere somewhat.

Horace Loux could sense that, although Rellana remained on guard, the fingers resting on her sword hilt had relaxed a little.

She seemed to respect Miriel, or at least was unwilling to readily provoke a conflict before the church.

The conversation that followed was, on the whole, fairly smooth.

Horace Loux did not reveal too many details, merely hinting that he had led some of his people in search of a new home and had no intention of becoming embroiled in the disputes between local powers, but had found himself in difficulty because of their identity.

Miriel listened patiently, occasionally responding or asking questions in a few words to guide the conversation.

His wisdom clearly far exceeded his immense size, and his words conveyed a peace detached from worldly concerns.

Yet Rellana's wariness never faded.

She stood silently to one side for most of the conversation, her gaze behind her visor sweeping over Horace Loux again and again like an invisible probe.

Whenever Horace Loux used vague phrases such as "from the east" or "crossed the lake region," he could distinctly feel Rellana's gaze grow colder.

Finally, halfway through the conversation, Rellana seemed unable to endure this "peaceful" stalemate any longer.

She bowed slightly and said to Miriel, "Lord Miriel, please allow me to excuse myself for a moment. The area around the church still requires patrolling to ensure its peace remains undisturbed."

Her excuse was truly clumsy.

Anyone could see that she wanted to get away for a while from this "barbarian" who made her uncomfortable.

Miriel slowly nodded. "Go, child."

Rellana glanced at Horace Loux once more, then turned and walked away with elegant steps, soon disappearing into the shadows shrouded in dusk.

Only Horace Loux and the enormous tortoise remained.

The atmosphere seemed to relax a little, but Horace Loux had not put his mind entirely at ease.

Rellana's departure was only temporary; her suspicions had not been dispelled.

"Now, young warrior, perhaps we can speak a little more frankly?" Miriel's gentle voice sounded again, his wise eyes seeming capable of seeing into people's hearts.

"That child Rellana is particularly sensitive to the unfamiliar and the unusual. Her departure was not out of distrust for my judgment, but born of her own responsibilities."

Horace Loux drew a deep breath.

Before this ancient being who understood the ways of the world so well, concealment might be meaningless and could instead cost him an opportunity.

He set aside his reservations and spoke more directly of the difficulties currently facing his tribe: their inexplicable origins, their awkward geographical position, and the suspicion and hostility they might provoke.

He did not mention the specific details, saying only that they had used some unknown method of migration.

"...We only want a piece of land where our people can rest and recover, far from conflict. We bear no ill will toward Caria's nobles or the academy's sorcerers. But I fear no one will believe a band of 'barbarians' who suddenly appeared beneath the cliffs on the eastern shore." Horace Loux's tone carried helplessness.

Miriel listened quietly, his enormous eyelids blinking occasionally.

"Trust does indeed require the accumulation of time and the proof of good deeds," the giant tortoise said slowly.

"The Carian Family safeguards the legacy of the Astrologers and order in the lake region. The academy's sages immerse themselves in the mysteries of glintstone and the origins of the stars. Their eyes turn either toward territory and glory, or toward the starry sky and truth. A natural wariness of unexpected visitors is inevitable."

He paused, as though weighing his words, then continued, "Young warrior, you mentioned coming here by 'following your heart's guidance.' That reminds me of some things from long ago... The Carian Family has deep ties to the 'moon.'"

Horace Loux's spirits lifted, and he listened closely.

"Those sisters encountered the bright moon high above at different times." Miriel's voice sounded as though he were telling an ancient fable.

"The elder encountered the perfect, unblemished 'full moon,' and her path was clear and glorious. But the younger..." The giant tortoise's tone shifted slightly, taking on a hint of deeper meaning.

"She was once enveloped in the full moon's radiance, yet she also felt the silent, icy gaze of the 'Dark Moon.' The favor of twin moons means a fork in the road, and a choice."

Something stirred in Horace Loux's heart. Was he talking about Rennala and Rellana?

The elder sister, Rennala, encountered the full moon, and her path was clear.

The younger sister, Rellana, was watched by both the full moon and the Dark Moon, and her fate held a fork in the road.

Why was Miriel telling him this? Was he merely recounting Caria's background?

He thought of his own moon-related Forge Fate, as well as the subtle resonance he had felt upon seeing Rellana.

In a sense, hadn't he himself also "encountered" the moon?

And if the Moon Boat was connected to the "moon's" guidance, did this forged fate of his also point faintly toward the "twin moons"?

Night and flame: as descendants of the Astrologers, the Carians yearned for fire in their very blood.

This might have had something to do with their ancestors living alongside the Fire Giants in the Mountaintops of the Giants. After all, without a warm fire in those freezing mountains, death was the only outcome.

This was also part of the explanation for why Rennala and her sister both had a thing for redheads.

After all, red hair represented fire. Though whether Radagon's red hair was a curse of the Fire Giants remained uncertain, Messmer was indeed fire, and fire that came from the Fell God of Fire at that.

Incantations did not necessarily require a Sacred Seal to cast; Melina casting Minor Erdtree was one example.

The All-Knowing could also cast incantations with a greathammer.

Perhaps only the Tarnished was subject to that restriction.