Cerulean and I blinked in stunned silence. We’d been seeking a solution for so long that this sudden turn of luck left us stuck between disbelief and hope. Understanding this, Saviz softened his tone.
“Normally we wouldn’t report something like this without verifying it first, but given the circumstances, I think it’s okay to tell you what we understand so far.”
He glanced at Cyril beside him. Cerulean and I trembled with joy while Saviz and Cyril explained everything clearly and plainly.
Apparently, it all began at a captains’ meeting. After the report of the discovery of the Rose of the Great Saint, one captain made a suggestion.
“Seeing as it’s called the Rose of the Great Saint, it’s likely been bred in a way that suits the Great Saint’s own tastes. The Great Saint is said to have loved rose hip tea, so when the Rose of the Great Saint is done flowering, we should try making tea from its fruit. Perhaps we’ll learn something about her from the experience. Just soaking the flower petals might produce some interesting effects… Who knows?”
This was news to everyone at the time. Saviz and Cyril believed that even if some effects did manifest, they would only be for healing. But when the captains held a tea party to find out, they experienced some unexpected outcomes. The rose petals proved capable of not only healing but also inflicting status ailments.
Inflicting status ailment effects, and dispelling them, were both magic only the Great Saint herself could wield. With her death, the world believed that magic lost. I told myself not to get my hopes up as Saviz and Cyril explained all this, but soon it was too much for me to contain. In a faltering voice, I said, “Y-Your Highness, wh-what do you mean the rose inflicted status ailments?! Only the Great Saint should be capable of that!”
Though rare, there were shamans who could borrow the power of monsters and magic items to inflict status ailments through curses, but the Great Saint was the only person able to directly use her magic to cause status ailments. Of course, she could also remove status ailments inflicted by others.
“Indeed,” Saviz said in his usual calm, flat voice. “There is much we don’t know about this flower, as it’s been three hundred years since we last saw it, but we can hypothesize that it bears similar effects to the Great Saint’s own magic.”
Normally, his matter-of-fact delivery would soothe my nerves, but I couldn’t stop my trembling at this news.
Cerulean seemed similarly anxious, barely managing to find his voice when he said, “I-Is such a ridiculously convenient thing really happening?”
Cerulean wasn’t truly looking for an answer, so Saviz continued.
At the tea party, the captains tested nine cups of tea. Of them, eight produced effects, some the same effect. These effects differed depending on the petal floating in the tea. Unfortunately, they found no sign of any status-ailment-removing effects, but that would’ve been difficult to test in the first place since it required a test subject who was already afflicted with a status effect.
I let out a shaky sigh at this. “Ah… A petal with the effect we seek might actually be out there… If only…”
I couldn’t finish, so Cerulean did it for me. “If only we knew which petal to pick. Colette is near her limit. I doubt she’ll endure if we pick the wrong one.”
“I have my mages on it,” Saviz reassured us. “They’re working to determine the petals’ effects and the strength of said effects.”
Moments like this really made me appreciate Saviz’s presence.
Cerulean had been restlessly rubbing his hands, but he finally unwound. In a low murmur, he said, “Hope can be a scary thing. I’ve already started to hope she might wake up again. I know from what you’ve said that our chances are one in a million, but after so long with no hope at all, I can’t help but feel like we finally have a shot.”
I felt the same, but all I could offer him in that moment was a nod. Ah… I can’t stop myself from dreaming. I can just imagine her opening her eyes. I’ll ensure she has reasons to smile for the rest of her life.
Shaken, Cerulean and I rose uneasily from our seats and turned to leave. But something struck me before I reached the door, and I turned to ask, “Your Highness, you said earlier that of the nine cups, one had no effect. May I ask whose cup that was?”
Saviz met my gaze and said, “It was Fia Ruud’s.”
The solution struck me like a bolt of lightning. Cyril had said the captains made a special exception so Fia could join their gathering, but now I felt as though a higher, divine power must have made that call.
There simply had to be a magic that could remove status ailments. Fia must have drunk the cup bearing that effect, but as she wasn’t affected with any status ailments, nothing had changed.
“…Let’s bet our one chance on her,” I murmured to myself as I left the room and walked down the corridor.
The fact that I met Fia now of all times, the fact that she found the Rose of the Great Saint, the fact that she received the petal with the ability to remove status ailments—it all felt like a sign, a sign that everything would be okay if I entrusted this to her.
The next day, Saviz received the results of the investigation into the petals. The captains had experienced many abnormal effects at the tea party, but the investigation team itself failed to produce anything on that scale.
“Reality is cruel,” I murmured. “But…I wonder why. I still feel like Fia could manage something.”
I had no basis for my belief, but Cerulean seemed to understand.
“Yeah,” he said. “For such a miracle to appear at our final hour feels like some kind of divine intervention.”
The next day, Cerulean and I witnessed even more of Fia’s greatness, her straightforwardness, her ability to find the best choice in any situation. I grew all the more certain she was our only chance and thus begged for her help.
My dear, dear sister’s life was on the line. I never thought I would rely on the help of another again, but I was fully prepared to believe in Fia—and Cerulean felt the same.
“Please…pick out a petal that will awaken Colette from her sleep!”
Perhaps this was the best choice we could have made.