A few days pass and Eska continues to recover at an astonishing rate.
The wounds on her body close rapidly; her right arm no longer aches and the burnt skin now allows her more mobility.
The gashes on her cheek remain tender but no longer require frequent cleaning, while the severe cut on her left leg still causes pain but has healed enough for her to take slow, short walks.
The injuries on her back and stomach have also improved, giving her greater freedom of movement.
Currently, Eska sits at a table, eating breakfast. Ciel joins her, this time without the presence of knights.
The room is more spacious, with a table and chairs, her bed tucked to the side, a small sink with a few dishes and an adjacent bathroom. They eat together quietly until Ciel breaks the silence.
"The Speaker has decided to visit you today," Ciel begins. "He wanted to wait until you had healed enough for a proper conversation. He's also been speaking with your mother."
Eska pauses, her fork hovering mid-air before she places it down and looks at Ciel in disbelief.
"I know you miss her," Ciel continues gently, "but we're doing everything we can to minimize trouble. Your mother has been very cooperative in this whole... situation. I hope you understand that this isn't just about you but about the church as well."
"Is the Speaker—" Eska hesitates. She turns her eyes towards her, then back at her bowl, unsure if she is even allowed to talk about the important figure.
"Go ahead," Ciel encourages her with a patient smile.
After a brief pause, Eska asks, "Is the Speaker the one in charge of the city?"
Ciel tilts her head slightly, placing her index finger thoughtfully on her lips.
"He's certainly an important figure, but not exactly in charge of the city. He's more of a representative—someone who speaks for the gods when they aren't present. Most of the time, though, there's little need for his interpretation of the gods' laws since enforcement is already well-established. But he does make an effort to attend sermons every week."
"Sermons?" Eska asks, curiosity flickering across her face.
"You haven't seen the cathedral yet, have you?" Ciel responds, her tone tinged with excitement.
Eska shakes her head with a puzzled expression.
"Then we'll make sure you're brought to one this week!" Ciel says enthusiastically, nearly clapping her hands together before catching herself.
"What if the Speaker decides to kill me today?" Eska mutters, doubt creeping into her voice.
Ciel's smile falters slightly but before she can reply, there's a knock at the door followed by a familiar voice. "It's Valen."
"Come in, Valen," Ciel replies, regaining her composure.
Valen steps inside, nodding at them.
"Good morning, ladies."
His expression is serious as he holds the door open for someone else to enter. Eska notices the unusual quiet outside—no bustling footsteps or chatter. Peering past him, she sees knights and acolytes stationed by the door, their solemn presence matched by a few others dressed in Valen's attire.
The Speaker enters next, moving slowly but with dignity.
His weathered face exudes wisdom, his blank white eyes darting around the room despite their emptiness. He leans lightly on the staff in his wrinkled hands, a symbol of his role as much as a support for his age.
Without a word, he gestures for Valen to close the door behind him, which he does with care.
"Speaker!" Ciel exclaims, startled, as she rises quickly and bow. Eska follows her lead, standing hesitantly, noting the reverence in the room.
The Speaker waves a hand dismissively at them. "Please, no need for formalities. I'm here to speak with the young lady, as an old man, not as the Speaker of the city," he says warmly.
Slowly, he makes his way toward the table and Ciel quickly places her own chair for him. Eska sits back down hesitantly, her confusion evident.
"Thank you, my dear," the Speaker says as he settles into the chair across from Eska.
His gaze softens as he continues.
"Eska, I've heard of your incredible bravery—saving my people from the fate that awaited them in those ruins."
His smile is genuine as he bows his head respectfully. "For that, you have my gratitude."
Eska shifts in her seat, unsure how to respond. "O-of course," she stammers.
"Indeed, indeed," he chuckles. "However," his tone turns somber, "as the Speaker of this city, I am bound by the laws given to us by the gods we worship and revere. Our peace and stability rely on those laws and it is my duty to uphold them."
His eyes meet hers, his gaze steady but kind.
Eska's unease grows and Marina's presence within her mind feels suddenly heavier.
"As a bloodcraft user, you were marked for death from the moment of your birth," he says plainly, his voice tinged with regret. "A grim and unfair fate, I admit. But the gods' decrees are clear and the law is the law."
He pauses, observing her worried expression.
Taking a deep breath, he lets it out slowly and looks toward the ceiling. "Our world exists in a fragile balance, Eska. As a hunter, surely you understand the importance of maintaining that balance, do you not?"
Eska lowers her gaze, her expression resembling a child being scolded for breaking a household rule. "I do, Speaker," she replies softly.
"Good," the Speaker says. "The same principle applies to us in the church. Should we break the gods' laws, their favor would vanish. Our lives would descend into chaos—crops would wither, people would perish and our strength would crumble."
He tilts his head slightly, letting the weight of his words settle.
Eska lifts her eyes, a flicker of defiance showing. "If the balance is so fragile, why keep me alive for this long? You could have enforced your law the moment you knew I existed."
"We are not monsters, Eska," he responds, straightening his posture. "We always investigate before we act."
"Monsters don't hold sham trials to justify killing," she counters, her voice tight with anger. "They don't pretend to care. The wendigos didn't waste time pretending to be merciful before tearing into me." Her gaze remains fixed downward, avoiding his.
"Eska!" Ciel interjects, her voice a mix of shock and uncertainty. The Speaker, however, only laughs softly.
"It's fine, Ciel. Let her speak," he says, gesturing for calm. His gaze shifts to Valen. "Her mother warned us, didn't she? How did she put it?"
Valen closes his eyes and exhales deeply, visibly reluctant. "She said, 'She won't take your shit, Sir.'" His tone is resigned.
Eska lets out a quiet laugh despite herself, her lips curling into a small smile as she looks away.
The Speaker chuckles heartily, shaking his head. "Ah, you two," he says between laughs. "Truly unique. Your mother raised you well, Eska."
"So, you've talked with her," Eska says, her tone easing slightly.
"Indeed," the Speaker replies calmly. "We've had many conversations—about her and about you."
Eska's expression hardens, a mix of doubt and anger clouding her face.
"She is safe, Eska. We haven't harmed her, nor do we intend to," the Speaker reassures her. "But now, I'd like to discuss you and the choices we have moving forward."
Eska's brows furrow, taken aback. "Don't intend to?" she snaps quickly.
The Speaker nods solemnly. "We have come to an accord, though I suspect it's one you may not entirely agree with," he admits.
"What have you decided?" Eska demands, her voice sharp with anger.
Ciel interjects once more "Eska! You mustn't speak to the Speaker like that!"
Her tone scolding but tinged with unease, as though unused to expressing such emotions. She clutches her staff tightly, her gaze shifting between Eska and the Speaker.
The Speaker raises a hand to calm them both.
"Our god, Nakisk, will descend upon us in two years. I believe the deeds you've done for us warrant presenting your case directly to him. Nakisk is a just god and I would prefer to let his judgment guide us. Of course, this comes with conditions—for you and your mother."
Eska's posture shifts, her anger giving way to wary attention. She narrows her eyes slightly, focusing on his words.
"For two years, your mother will live in quarters provided by the church. You will be allowed to visit her occasionally but you will remain under our custody and fulfill certain duties for the church," the Speaker explains, leaning closer.
You want me to—" Eska hesitates, confusion flashing across her face. "You want me to join you?"
"Under Valen's guidance, yes," the Speaker clarifies.
"In two years, when our lord Nakisk descends, we will present our observations and opinions to him. While we may not know each other well now, much can change in that time. I hope we can use it to better understand you—and your worth in the eyes of the gods."
"I don't want you to misunderstand," the Speaker continues. "The choice our lord makes is not influenced by what we believe about you. But know this—our lord is among the most justice-driven gods from the five."
Eska glances down at the floor, her brow furrowed in frustration.
"All I hear is 'behave' and 'obey' dressed up in a lot of cool words." She crosses her arms and turns her head to the side, shrinking slightly into herself.
The Speaker chuckles warmly. "You're so much like your mother. Stubborn, strong," he pauses, his expression sharpening, "and perceptive."
He straightens in his chair, resting his chin on his crossed hands.
"My people tell me that, at the rate you're healing, you'll be fully recovered in less than a month. Valen will be back to collect you then. In the meantime, Ciel will continue assisting with your recovery and she'll be permitted to use her healing magic to speed up the process. The sooner you recover, the sooner we can make progress on your case."
He gives her a pointed look, not waiting for her to respond.
"Now," he says, his tone shifting to finality, "it's a shame we can't chat longer, but I have other responsibilities to attend to." He rises slowly, leaning on his staff as Ciel steps forward to assist him.
The Speaker begins to leave, Valen holding the door open for him. This time, however, the door remains ajar. Through the open doorway, Oblea steps into the room, dressed in a commoner's dress.
"Mom!"
Eska exclaims, springing from her seat in an attempt to rush toward her. Pain shoots through her body and she stumbles to the floor before she can make it far.
Oblea is at her side in an instant, catching her before Ciel even has time to react.
"Eska, you shouldn't be moving like this. Your wounds aren't healed yet," Oblea says firmly, her voice tinged with worry.
Ignoring the pain, Eska clings to her mother, burying her face in her chest. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she whispers, her voice trembling.
Oblea wraps her arm around her daughter, holding her tightly. Neither moves nor speaks, their embrace lasting what feels like an eternity.