As they continued to chat, even though Jeanne and Alina knew the woman standing before them was the divine protector of Kjerag, they couldn't bring themselves to treat her like some distant, untouchable god.
Kjera simply felt like an ordinary friend. Before long, even the usually reserved Alina dropped her polite hesitation and relaxed into the conversation.
In the middle of their exchange, Kjera suddenly paused, her eyes shifting toward the door. She walked over, pulled it open, and quietly waited.
A few minutes later, the gentle chime of bells announced the arrival of Enya, who had just finished her evening prayers. Seeing the bright, cheerful atmosphere in the room, she offered a warm, polite smile. "What are you all chatting about? You seem to be having a wonderful time."
"Just local Kjerag legends," Kjera answered smoothly, taking her arm. "Stories like the first time Kjeragandr descended upon the world. Why don't you join us for a bit?"
Though framed as an invitation, Kjera didn't even wait for a refusal before gently pulling the Saintess into the room.
"Ah—but I still need to..."
"Just tell them you're attending to our honored guests," Kjera interrupted with a light wave of her hand. "I'll handle the caretakers myself. No one's going to cause trouble for you over something so minor."
Finding the logic sound, Enya gave in with a soft laugh. Originally intending to merely offer a quick greeting, she found herself sitting down opposite Jeanne and Alina, who were both waving her over.
"Good evening," Jeanne greeted her. "Do you usually have to work this late?"
"I'm afraid so," Enya sighed gently. "Night prayers are followed by an hour of scriptural recitation, and after that, I have to meet with the Grand Elder to coordinate tomorrow's schedules before I can finally rest."
"That sounds exhausting," Alina remarked, mentally reviewing the schedule. It sounded far more taxing than any standard day of labor.
Glancing over her shoulder, Alina added with a playful smirk, "If a certain someone put in even half as much effort as you do, Pope Yvangelista would probably weep tears of pure gratitude."
Jeanne, entirely unbothered, leaned back and took the friendly jab in stride.
"Laterano kept running just fine for centuries without me around," Jeanne argued, defending her leisurely lifestyle. "It's not like the city collapses if I'm not sitting in a cathedral every day! What good would it do for me to go back and add to their chaotic paperwork?"
Crossing her arms, she shot Alina a curious look. "Besides, since when did you get so familiar with Laterano's affairs?"
"From the Sankta who arrived in the city, of course," Alina replied, resting her chin on her hand with a smile. "They were quite eager to catch a glimpse of their Saintess."
Enya's interest was piqued. "Is it really that difficult for your believers to see you?"
"It's not that it's difficult," Alina explained, happy to find a topic that sparked the Saintess's curiosity. "It's just that this girl is constantly wandering across the land. Very few people ever see her sitting quietly in a chapel, and she rarely lingers in Laterano... It's quite similar to your situation here, really. You can probably imagine how anxious her followers get."
Enya chuckled softly. "It is hard to imagine. If I were to leave Kjerag for an extended period, the Vine-Bear Court would throw a fit—and Lady Kjeragandr herself would likely be furious."
Standing off to the side, Kjera quietly looked down, feeling a sudden wave of awkward self-consciousness. She had never uttered such a thing; it was entirely an invention of her overzealous followers misinterpreting her so-called divine will.
"Is that so?" Jeanne remarked, knowing the ground truth. She shot a subtle, knowing glance toward Kjera. "You could always mention these things to Kjeragandr during your prayers. Times have changed, haven't they?"
Kjera's awkwardness deepened. She deliberately avoided Jeanne's meaningful stare, fixing her gaze firmly out the window at the swirling snowflakes instead.
"I don't think I could ever bring myself to do that," Enya admitted, burying her fleeting desire deep down. "I lack the courage to add personal requests to my prayers, and the senior members of the Vine-Bear Court would never approve of such changes."
Leaning in closer to Jeanne and Alina, Enya lowered her voice to a whisper. "I'll tell you this, but please keep it between us... Truthfully, I hold very little real authority here. Nearly every major decision in Kjerag is made by the Tri-Clan Council and the Grand Elder."
We already know that! Jeanne thought to herself. She had half-expected some ground-shaking secret, but anyone with a sharp eye could read the political reality of this nation in an afternoon.
"It might sound pitiable to an outsider, but it is my reality," Enya said, her expression dimming slightly. "I am merely the figurehead Saintess everyone looks up to. When it comes to taking action, I possess no real power..."
"That's completely understandable," Jeanne said, offering a comforting pat on the snow leopard's shoulder. "There's no need to measure yourself against others. Just focus on being yourself, and leave the rest to Kjeragandr's choice, right?"
Yet a lingering puzzle nagged at the back of Jeanne's mind. If Enya was truly just a powerless figurehead, how did Enciodes plan to use his sister in his grand scheme?
Even Jeanne knew that in Kjerag, faith was the ultimate authority. The religious standing of the Saintess was the one thing capable of uniting the people. Enciodes was far too calculating to cast aside such a powerful asset.
"Perhaps... Lady Kjeragandr will indeed make her choice," Enya murmured softly before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "Let us not dwell on such somber topics! Kjera mentioned you were discussing local folklore earlier. Have you ever heard the tale of the Tschäggättä?"
"The Tschäggättä?" Alina repeated, searching her memory. "Is it a local legend?"
"It is unique to these mountains," Enya explained. "Legend speaks of strange creatures that move beneath the veil of fierce blizzards, snatching away those whose faith is unfulfilling or lacking. Those unfortunates who lack Lady Kjeragandr's protection are said to be carried off... Though in truth, it is mostly a story adults tell to keep disobedient children from wandering off into the cold."
"That sounds familiar," Alina smiled, a wave of nostalgia hitting her. "In Ursus, parents tell similar stories to scare children—usually warning them about black-robed bugs or terrifying demons."
Back then, Alina had assumed those tales were pure fiction, only to learn as an adult that the dark creatures her parents spoke of were horrifyingly real. It made her wonder if this Tschäggättä carried a grain of truth as well.
Outside, the wind picked up again, whipping the snowfall into a whiteout. Out in conditions like these, attempting to climb the mountain was nothing short of suicidal.
Jeanne thought back to the pilgrims they had passed earlier along the road. "I wonder how those travelers manage to survive such brutal winters down there."
Standing nearby, Kjera offered a reassuring smile. "You need not worry about them. The severe blizzards only manifest at high altitudes. The lower mountain trails are kept safe from such extreme weather."
"Don't tell me... that's your doing as well?" Jeanne asked quietly, suspecting that the local weather patterns were being manually adjusted.
"The calm climate at the base of the mountain is maintained by my power," Kjera admitted with a subtle sigh, gazing into the storm. "I have subtly hinted to them countless times that extreme suffering isn't necessary to prove their devotion, but my words rarely stick."
Jeanne turned her attention toward the pitch-black darkness outside the window. For a fleeting second, she caught the faint impression of movement amid the howling wind and snow—a shadowy silhouette shifting through the storm.
Was it just my imagination?
Beside her, Kjera seemed entirely oblivious to any movement in the dark. Or perhaps she was simply choosing not to mention it? Either was possible.
Before Jeanne could ponder it further, a bloodcurdling scream shattered the stillness of the Vine-Bear Court, ringing out across the halls:
"The Tschäggättä! The Tschäggättä has come!"
The terror-stricken cry echoed through the sanctuary, leaving everyone inside frozen in shock.
(Fumina: I'm back! The exams were tough. Sorry for the wait.)