The thin boy stood before her, clearly wrestling with a wave of inner turmoil. It seemed he was deeply worried that the question he wanted to pose might cross a line and cause displeasure.
Yet, when he looked up and met the gentle warmth of her expression, the hesitation clouding his features gradually dissolved. Summoning his remaining courage, he looked directly at the maiden.
Eno tightened his embrace around the heavy volume in his arms. After a brief pause, he finally raised his head to voice the confusion that had been lingering in his heart.
"Big Sister Jeanne... may I ask... what made you choose to believe in the divine?"
Eno's voice carried a distinct tremor of anxiety. He had no way of knowing how she would react to such a blunt inquiry. Would she offer a stern rebuke, or would she meet his confusion with understanding?
Jeanne stood quietly before him, listening with patient attention. She had already guessed the general direction of his thoughts, but she still needed to consider how best to phrase her answer.
Seeing that she maintained her reassuring smile without immediately speaking, Eno drew a deep breath and hurried to clarify his thoughts.
"Because... because after reading through these pages, I find myself entirely unable to comprehend the concept of a benevolent deity. If such a power truly exists, why does it allow everyone to endure such a wretched and painful existence?"
As the words left his lips, Eno's voice grew increasingly soft, and his head sank lower and lower. It was only after he had fully confessed the doubts weighing on his spirit that he forced himself to look back up.
Every word he uttered was drawn from the bitter well of his own past—a life that, until recently, had known nothing but cruelty and sorrow. Because of those scars, the grand promises written in the scriptures felt completely foreign to his reality.
He could have easily fabricated a superficial reason to satisfy himself, but he genuinely desired to know how Jeanne viewed the world. He only hoped his probing wouldn't inadvertently spark her anger.
He still vividly recalled an encounter from his younger years involving a follower of some obscure sect—the specific details escaped him, though he was certain it wasn't the faith of Laterano. That individual would fly into a terrifying rage whenever anyone dared question their doctrine!
At best, they would loudly berate whoever asked the question; at worst, they would physically strike out at the skeptic. The display had struck him as entirely unhinged.
"Ah, so that is what has been troubling you," Jeanne murmured, turning the matter over in her mind.
How should she explain her path to this youth? Why did she follow the light? It was simply because that presence was a living reality in her journey, constantly reaching down to offer guidance and strength. The divine had manifested undeniable turnarounds in her life on more than one occasion.
"If you are asking for my personal reason," Jeanne answered with sincere clarity, "it is because I can truly feel that watchful care, and I have witnessed the path cleared before me. In my own journey, that power has brought forth true wonders when all hope seemed lost."
She chose to offer him simple honesty. Sitting down to lecture a youth with grand, abstract philosophies regarding the cosmos was never her style.
"But... if that care is real," Eno pressed, his voice filled with a quiet intensity, "why does it not reach out to save everyone from their misery?"
He didn't harbor the slightest doubt regarding Jeanne's words, yet accepting the reality of a higher power only made the world's endless suffering feel even more incomprehensible. Why would a benevolent presence witness such widespread anguish and remain silent?
"Now that is a riddle beyond my understanding," Jeanne replied, offering a helpless gesture. "After all, I am merely human. If a higher path allows things to unfold this way, there must be a purpose far greater than our perspective can grasp. Our sole duty is to focus entirely on the good we can accomplish with our own hands."
She recognized how foolish it was to try and measure a grander design through the narrow lens of mortal understanding.
"Besides, it isn't as though the world has been completely abandoned, is it?" Jeanne added with a bright glance. "After all, that very grace guided me to this land, allowing me to reach out and offer a helping hand to youths like you, and to every soul dwelling in this settlement."
Hearing her perspective, the thin Liberi boy wore a look of mixed understanding. He nodded slowly, as if digesting the thoughts, though Jeanne couldn't be entirely certain how deeply the message had resonated.
Still, catching the sudden brightness returning to his eyes, she felt reassured that her words had provided some measure of comfort, guiding his thoughts in a healthier direction.
"Then... I remember hearing that men can serve as... priests, correct?" Eno ventured, his expression turning eager. "Big Sister Jeanne, if I truly wish to pursue that path, are there any specific requirements I must meet?"
Jeanne blinked in surprise, not expecting the youth to be entirely serious about entering the clergy. She wondered if her own presence had inspired this choice, or if some quiet wonder had touched his life during her months away, sparking a genuine desire to serve.
"There are no extraordinary conditions here," Jeanne replied after a brief moment of reflection. "Perhaps the grand cathedrals in Laterano maintain strict rules for candidates, but within our community, a sincere heart is more than enough."
In truth, within this circle, what earthly rule could possibly override the personal approval of the Holy Maiden herself? If she wished, Jeanne possessed the authority to completely reshape the administrative decisions of the Laterano notary. She could easily demand that Pope Yvangelista XI.V change his title to something entirely different, though the mischievous maiden had no intention of causing such a stir.
"However, even if you harbor a genuine desire to become a priest, such choices must wait until you have reached full maturity," Jeanne asserted, gently cutting off his train of thought before he could make a formal request. She had no intention of letting a child burden himself with such heavy vows so early in life.
While the priesthood was a deeply honorable path—one that appeared far more respectable to the outside world than being a member of Reunion—she still believed he should enjoy his youth.
Eno didn't show any disappointment upon hearing her decision. He simply buried the dream deep within his heart, vowing to present the request to her once more on the day he came of age.
Assuming, of course, that his ideals remained unchanged when that day arrived.
Jeanne watched as the youth walked away, softly humming a melody as he headed toward the medical pavilion to continue his basic studies in healing arts.
Listening to his receding footsteps, she noted that his voice possessed a remarkably sweet, clear quality. If he hadn't contracted the Oripathy infection, he might have made a truly wonderful singer, she mused.
Then, a sudden realization struck her. The primary cluster of Eno's infection was located right in his throat. By all accounts, singing should have been a physical impossibility for him.
She distinctly recalled that the boy had been entirely unable to hold a tune before; even his regular speech had always sounded weak and breathless due to the lesions in his throat.
It seemed that during her long absence, a significant turn of events had indeed transpired within the settlement. Jeanne watched until his form vanished from view, making a mental note to pry into the matter during her next conversation with Talulah.
Shifting her thoughts, she glanced over at Fafnir, who was still sitting perfectly well-behaved in her corner. A sudden, playful idea flared in Jeanne's mind, and she felt a strong urge to test a theory.
What would happen if I simply stepped out of sight for a brief interval? Given our current surroundings, nothing untoward should occur, right?
She wanted to see how Fafnir would behave when left entirely alone with her new godmother, wanting to ensure the two could bond without her constant presence.
Always one to act on impulse, Jeanne turned and slipped out of the chapel, finding a discreet vantage point nearby to observe the scene from cover.
Over the past few days of constant attention, Alina had somehow coaxed the young dragon into accepting her as a godmother. Jeanne could only roll her eyes at the Elafia's shameless maneuvering.
Yet, Jeanne had overlooked a rather amusing detail: if Fafnir viewed Alina as her godmother, didn't that imply either she or Talulah had to fill the role of the biological mother? It was a perplexing thought that neither of them had fully resolved.
As Jeanne stood in the shadows, keeping a watchful eye on the building, a sudden chill ran down her spine.
Her instincts flared, alerting her to a sharp, malicious gaze locked onto her position. The raw hostility radiating through the air told her that whoever was watching did not harbor good intentions.