“I apologize for the wait. I wanted to show you this.”
A few minutes later, Master passed me a pile of documents. The layer of dust on top of the stack suggested it’d been kept in storage for many years.
“Is this…my father’s research?”
“It is indeed,” said Hildegard. “I thought showing it to you would be pointless, so I held back. But since you’re taking things this far, I’ll let you read it to persuade you to give up.”
“Give up what?”
“Developing a cure for the devil’s seed, of course.”
I rifled through my father’s papers. Unsurprisingly, there were some discrepancies between his and Luke’s work, but the overall results of their research were almost identical.
Luke had spent more time studying ways to suppress the symptoms of the sickness, so he’d made more progress in that arena. Like my father, he’d paused his research into developing a true cure, with one ingredient yet to be found. There was one thing, however, that set my father’s research apart.
“He discovered an ingredient that might be the key to creating the cure,” I said. “‘The Moontear Flower.’ That’s it, isn’t it?”
When I uttered the name, my master slowly nodded. “Are you familiar with that medicinal plant, Philia?”
“Yes, of course. It’s a rare plant found in the wild outside of Sedelgard. It’s extremely difficult to come by.”
Truthfully, I only knew the Moontear Flower by name. This elusive plant was only found beyond our continent. It was allegedly fundamental to miracle cures for countless illnesses, but it was almost impossible to obtain. On rare occasions, the flowers could be imported from distant lands, but they were almost never sold at common markets. I had never even seen one.
And yet, in my father’s research papers, the name of this elusive medicinal plant was explicitly listed among the ingredients for the miracle cure. This implied that my father had acquired a sample for himself.
“Master, how did my father get his hands on the Moontear Flower?”
He would never recommend an ingredient he hadn’t tested himself. I could only conclude that he had somehow found the elusive flower.
Master Hildegard sighed. She appeared to think things over for a second—and then she turned her gaze away.
Now it was clear that she was hiding something.
The silence persisted for a while, filling the room with an oppressive atmosphere.
“There was a place in this country,” she said at last, “where Moontear Flowers grew.”
“There was?” I couldn’t help but shout. I had never heard of such a thing. I was born and raised in Girtonia, and had even served as the country’s saint, yet I was completely oblivious.
If such a place existed, why was no one else aware of it? I’d been certain that there was no inch of Girtonia I hadn’t searched for medicinal plants. My doubt grew.
“You’re aware of the restricted hazardous zone along the border between Girtonia and Parnacorta, yes? The Volcanic Miasma Zone?”
“Of course. It’s a death zone, a place that not even saints can approach. Wait. Surely not…”
The Volcanic Miasma Zone was one of the few areas on the continent that were utterly off-limits. Unexplained phenomena comparable to magic explosions were a frequent occurrence, making it impossible to enter. Any ordinary person who dared venture inside would lose their life in moments.
It was difficult to imagine Moontear Flowers growing in a place that dangerous.
“Uh, Mother?” Mia asked, tilting her chin up in curiosity. “How did your husband obtain a plant from a place like that? Actually, how did he know it was there in the first place?”
I had the same questions. The area was forbidden. One needed permission from both Girtonia and Parnacorta simply to set foot within its borders.
“It was a stroke of luck,” Hilda explained. “Twenty years ago, the area was not yet restricted, so anybody could venture there if they so wished. Be that as it may, the perils of the region meant that the only people who dared go there were apothecaries searching for plants or saints carrying out their duties. But then, one day, a massive explosion occurred. My husband was exploring nearby, and he was injured in the blast. Later, he found what looked like Moontear Flower petals stuck to his clothing. They must have been blown into him by the force of the explosion.”
Master Hildegard spoke in an unruffled, detached tone as she recounted how the Moontear Flower petals had literally fallen into my father’s lap.
Massive explosions were a regular occurrence in the region, causing numerous catastrophes. That was why Girtonia and Parnacorta had agreed to declare the area off-limits.
“The petals of the Moontear Flower proved an effective ingredient,” my master continued. “With them, my husband created a temporary remedy that extended his life. But there simply wasn’t enough of it. In the end, he concluded that he needed the Moontear Flower itself to produce a complete cure.”
I could tell from the sorrowful look on Hildegard’s face that she was reflecting on my father’s death. By asking about it, I’d forced her to relive the past, stirring up feelings of sadness and solitude.
“You don’t think Philia could fetch a Moontear Flower from such a perilous place,” said Mia. “Is that why you want to convince her to give up?”
“Of course. Retrieving a Moontear Flower would be an impossible task. There’s no guarantee that they even grow there anymore. I wanted to show how pointless it would be to risk entering a restricted zone for something so uncertain.”
Mia let out an exasperated sigh. “I knew it. But why didn’t you tell us that before? Instead, you handed us that cryptic letter and withheld information, so we wasted all that time doing research at the library.”
Mia made a valid point. If we had no hope of obtaining the Moontear Flower, she could simply have said so.
“It’s more complicated than that,” said Master Hildegard. “Do you know why I didn’t mention the Moontear Flower, Philia?”
“Yes. Because if I learned about it, I’d go looking for it. You’d already predicted that outcome.”
Mia’s eyes widened in shock. “What? Hold on a second, Philia!”
Sir Osvalt, on the other hand, nodded thoughtfully. “That does sound like something Philia would do.”
If there was any chance that I could cure Luke’s illness—and create a remedy that could have saved Elizabeth and my father—I would reach out with both hands to grasp it, no matter how unlikely the odds.
“I know you,” said my master. “People call you the greatest saint of all time and say there’s nothing you can’t do. You’ve even earned the title of archsaint. You’ve performed miracles time and time again, so it’s only natural you’d want to take on this challenge.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say there’s nothing I can’t do,” I replied, “but I do believe it’s worth a try.”
“If anyone can get the Moontear Flower, I guess it’d be you,” said Mia.
“Yes,” said Master Hildegard. “I have to admit, Philia has a better chance than anyone. But please, abandon this goal. You could get seriously injured…or even die. If you’re going to take on the challenge despite of the risks, I’m obliged to do everything in my power to stop you.”
“Master,” I said, “if I do nothing, Luke will die. Finding a substitute for the Moontear Flower in time would be even more unlikely, not to mention inefficient.”
“He’s not the only person to die from an incurable illness. The same happened to your father. As much as I pity Luke, you have your own life to think about. What if the worst were to happen in that perilous place? Think of Prince Osvalt.”
Master had never tried so hard to stop me before, not even in my training days, when I’d practiced divine spells. It felt as though there was something more to her warnings.
“Hang on, Mother,” said Mia, questioning Master’s reaction. “Didn’t you tell us that you were proud to call yourself Philia’s mentor? You said that her curiosity and sense of justice were the source of her strength. I know you’re worried about her, but you seem more emotional than usual.”
She was right. Like me, Master Hildegard wasn’t normally one to let her emotions surface. Today she was acting differently. Mia lived with her, so she’d know that better than anyone.
“Hahh… Do you remember these scars on my arms and shoulders, Philia? The ones I showed you long, long ago?”
“Those scars…”
A long time ago, when I was still a child, Master had showed me her painful scars. And now, I was faced with them again.
She told me they were from her own training days. She’d shown them to me to warn me not to let my guard down while I was practicing…
“Once, I ventured into that death zone by myself, searching for the Moontear Flower. That was how I got these scars.”
“What?”
“Do you think I simply sat back and watched my husband die? If I could have, I would have fetched a Moontear Flower and saved him.”
How could I have let something so obvious pass me by? There was no way my master wouldn’t have tried to help my father—but in the end, he died, and she was left with painful scars. It didn’t take a genius to work that out.
“In other words, you tried and failed. As remarkable a saint as you are, you couldn’t obtain the Moontear Flower.”
“That’s right. I’d never been so devastated by my own powerlessness before. I might not have been as self-assured as you, Philia, but I was confident in my abilities as a saint. I was young and strong. My powers were at their peak.”
When I was young, Saint Hildegard Adenauer was renowned as the greatest saint in Sedelgard. She’d honed her strength through diligent study and drawn on all her experience to train me. Yet powerful as she was, she’d not only failed to obtain the Moontear Flower, but returned with permanent injuries. At last, I understood how dangerous the Volcanic Miasma Zone truly was.