Oh, that's wonderful, precious. That's our daughter.
Two people smiled.
I couldn't see their eyes, but I knew—these were my parents.
I loved them so much.
They had such high expectations for me.
I needed to keep them happy.
---
Our daughter has a unique Clarion, you see.
My mother's voice, casual and composed, flowed through the room. She was talking about me in front of our relatives.
That made me proud.
She must have been proud too.
---
Oh, I'm sure. What does she have anyway? Smell?
A single sneaky remark. The kind that silences a room.
The relatives surrounding us burst into laughter.
My mother's face twisted in fury.
My father didn't look too far off either.
---
BEAT HIM UP. SHOW THEM, MY DAUGHTER.
A child.
My cousin.
Lying right in front of me, crying.
His parents had told him to fight me.
He looked up at everyone. Some were amused.
Some were terrified.
His parents were crying.
Mine, though?
They were smiling.
...Why?
---
Well then, that was great. What is that Clarion anyways?
That was my uncle—the rich one. He didn't see children. Only investments.
This island is small anyway, he continued.
Why not send her to the continent? She can become someone better.
---
Oh, that is great, my mom said, smiling.
Look at that. Thank him, my daughter.
---
Well, he smirked, if you can beat my son, that is.
---
My father seemed pissed.
But he smiled.
Sure. Just don't go crying like the others. Our daughter is gifted, you see.
---
Daughter.
Did they forget my name?
---
I woke up slowly.
Wanora was already sitting on a chair beside me, while I lay on the floor like discarded luggage. My head throbbed. I forced myself up, hand pressing against the wooden panel.
We were inside the confession booth.
"Hm? What's up?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
"You took your sweet time getting up, huh?" Her tone was casual, but her eyes scanned me carefully.
I rubbed my temples. "Well, that was good for me since I removed poison from your body," she added. "I carry antidotes."
I blinked. "Then why not use it in the start?" I scratched my head in disbelief.
She pointed at my body. "The poison had spread out. I had to figure out the points and cure them."
My gaze dropped to my arms and legs. Dozens of cuts—sealed crudely by burning. Wanora had the same marks on her.
She must've cut us both, identified the poison's paths using her Clarion, applied antidote, then sealed the wounds through burning.
Rough yet effective.
I exhaled. "But why are we inside this booth?"
She pointed outside.
It was raining.
"Oh well, it's raining, that's why," I mumbled.
Then the realization hit me like a brick. "WAIT, IT'S RAINING?!?!! HUH."
I pressed my face against the booth window again.
No mistaking it. It was raining.
The chapel?
Ruined.
All the chairs? Destroyed.
The paintings? Torn and shattered like relics of a forgotten past.
"Huh? Why?"
Wanora sighed. "The third bell rang. Before I knew it, my hand broke. And yeah, I noticed things breaking from droplets falling from the top. So I rushed us into the booth. I'm using extreme heat to keep the water at bay."
"…Broke your hand?" I muttered. "The droplets… What even is your artifact? I mean it's ridiculously overpowered."
She looked at me.
"Well… It's a gift. From… my mother."
I stopped her.
"Okay. I don't need to listen more. Just tell me about the artifact."
Bringing up her past now felt…wrong. Too raw.
"The First Fire."
My eyes widened.
"…The first fire?"
She nodded. "Yea."
---
The First Fire.
An artifact spoken of in the visual novel.
Not a metaphor.
The literal first fire that ever ignited on the surface of the planet.
Just containing it would require layers upon layers of high-level magical barriers.
It was said that even a flick from it could reduce the continent to ash.
"Is that why?" I asked quietly.
She nodded. "Gramps took it before. After he passed away, it was in his will. He left it for me. Placed enough barriers to keep everyone safe."
"…That's good for us," I muttered. "But did you figure out what to do?"
She nodded again. "We still need to escape... and most likely, my Clarion's been noticed."
She looked at me.
I could tell she already knew.
"Yea, I think I have it figured. Also—didn't you have an idea before you blanked out?"
My brain fired back to life.
"OH YEA. LISTEN."
"Snake is greed—it's represented with evil and greed in some parts."
"Okay..."
"And the eye—it can be considered a human. Or vision. But it has a tear. It's pain."
"And?" she asked. "The droplets? The sun?"
"I'm getting to it! The droplet is the symbol. And that painting? It was a man trying to swim out of a deep ocean. Struggle. That's what it means."
"And the sun?"
"Rebirth. New beginnings."
She looked at me. "And your point is?"
I paused.
"…I dunno."
She sighed. "Well, what you said matches what I thought."
She continued.
"The poison—that was the snake. Greed."
"Then the eye—our vision deteriorating."
"And now—the droplet. Where every raindrop is as heavy as a horse. That's struggle."
"That means the next is…"
"The sun," I finished for her.
She nodded. "Yes. And while you were asleep, I noticed something else. The stained glasses had numbers."
She held up four fingers. "4, 2, 1, 3. That's the order."
"What's it?"
"Snake represents war. Eye with a tear—famine. The drowning man—death. The sun—star. In that order, we've been facing them."
"Snake is in the third glass. It's labeled with 1. The tear has 2. Drowning man is 3. And sun is 4."
She looked serious now.
"This was to figure out the punishment. But we were late."
I frowned. "Now the problem is... where should the coin go?"
"The eye?" I asked. "Since it's human?"
She tilted her head. "Yes and no. Yes, because humans want the coin. No, because like you said, the tear represents pain."
"Ohhh. So then… the snake?"
"Yes. Because it's greed. Someone's greed caused someone pain. That caused someone to struggle. And now, a new beginning awaits them."
I nodded. "Okay, so how do we get to the coin, genius?"
She smiled.
"Well... that's where you come in."
"…Excuse me, what?" I looked at her.
She just kept smiling.