59 – Why? (B1 Epilogue)

Frederick barely remembered what happened after the fight with the serpent. He barely made it back to the orphanage alive, stumbling and delirious from the snake’s venom. It was a miracle he had even made it through the mountains safely, let alone had the presence of mind to bring back his ‘proof.’

Now, he was laying in a spare room in the orphanage, his entire right arm bandaged so thoroughly it looked more like a linen club than a limb. That was an improvement over how it had looked before he got healed, though. He tried to bend it, but even that slight motion sent a wave of pain shooting up from his elbow to his neck.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said a voice from beside him.

Frederick whipped his head to the side, having not realized he wasn’t alone. The old Abbess was sitting beside him, glaring down at him with another linen-wrapped bundle in her lap. It was long and oddly shaped, and it took Frederick a few seconds to recall what it was.

Oh right, he thought. I brought the arm back.

“If I was an ordinary healer, you would be dead right now,” she said. “And if I was just slightly less good, you would have lost your arm. It’s a miracle you’re all in one piece right now, and it’ll be six months before your arm fully recovers. That snake that bit you was a nasty one.”

I still got it in the end, though…

“Thank you for healing me,” he said, bowing his head as much as he could in his position. “I owe you my life.”

“Oh, you owe me much more than that,” said the Abbess. “For example, answers.”

“I don’t—”

“Where’s the rest of her?” she demanded. “And don’t give me that lie you fed the other inquisitors. A snake ate the rest of her? Seriously? You’re lucky they didn’t look any closer. I’ve been reattaching limbs for twice as long as you’ve been alive, and you’d have to be an idiot to think I wouldn’t recognize a sword wound when I saw one. And I know you didn’t give it to her. She cut this off herself when the infection spread too far.

“So tell me, where is the rest of her?”

Frederick hesitated, glancing around. He had suddenly become paranoid on his way back, after thinking so long about what happened. Ivan’s orders had supposedly come from the pope, but the orders were wrong. The boy wasn’t a demon, and if he wasn’t a demon, that meant he wasn’t lying about being a Visionary. But why would the pope want to kill a Visionary? They were second in importance only to Heroes, and were usually even more influential in the long term.

So why?

“No one else can hear us in here,” said Helen. “And your other inquisitor friends are staying elsewhere. So out with it already.”

“…You were right,” he finally said. “It was a Holy Duel.”

“Of course I was,” she snapped. “But that didn’t answer my question.”

“The last I saw of the Reaper–”

“Igrette.”

“Of Igrette, she was alive… But I doubt she is still alive now.”

“And why is that?”

“She was in bad shape. She could barely stand. She had no mana. She was using the last of her strength to try and protect the boy. I… don’t think she lived much longer after she left.”

“And the boy?”

“He was unhurt.”

“So the report you gave was false.”

“It was.”

“Why.”

“…I don’t know.”

“Hmph,” she said. “Well, don’t you dare count Igrette out like that. She’s a fighter, and so is Jonny. I’m sure they found a way.”

Frederick thought back to the state that Igrette had been in when he last saw her. She was on the verge of death. There was nothing that the boy could have done to save her. But he chose not to voice his concerns to the already-grumpy Abbess. It looked like he would be here for a little while, so he could try to let her down easy another time.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Hmph,” said the Abbess again, crossing her arms. “Well, I don’t like your answers much, but at least you’re honest. You still owe me a lot more than that, though. Like, for example, why did they send inquisitors after a Visionary?”

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“I’ve been wondering that myself. I don’t understand. Why would they do that? And why did they–? Why did Ivan have to be the one…?”

The Abbess glared at him for a few seconds longer, then sighed, the tension and anger lessening.

“Well, I won’t bother you any longer,” she said, standing up, and taking the wrapped-up arm with her. “Breakfast will be in shortly. Don’t you dare try to feed yourself again. If Lucy tells me you tried to take the spoon from her again, I’m going to use a weaker pain reduction spell next time I change the bandages.”

“Y– Yes, ma’am.”