To show her sincerity, Konehl-Ghervil removed her mask, allowing Govet-Ghervil to restore her true appearance.
Her hair was white, her pupils a deep golden hue, and her features were exquisitely beautiful.
Dandelion immediately recalled his sister’s brief description of her friend.
As the eldest son of the Cambaton family, he had encountered many women of noble elegance and exceptional poise.
Yet, the young woman before him defied description; he found himself utterly bereft of words.
One thing, however, remained certain: he would never forget this fated encounter in a dream.
Indeed, he considered their conversation nothing less than a serendipitous meeting.
“Is this a letter from my sister to you?”
He bent his knee slightly, accepting the letter with a dignified grace, completely devoid of timidity.
His education had instilled in him that to appear unsophisticated before a beautiful girl would be an offense.
To acknowledge her beauty directly was, in fact, a mark of respect.
“From the clues currently at hand, this letter does indeed appear to be from Mrs. Penelope.”
Noticing his gaze still fixed upon her, Konehl-Ghervil offered another reminder.
“There might be something noteworthy within the letter; I was hoping you could examine it. After all, you are her kin…”
“I understand, Sister Konehl-Ghervil…” Dandelion interrupted, eager to prove himself, “I will do everything in my power.”
‘Was that a bit much?’
Konehl-Ghervil hesitated, wondering if she should don her mask once more.
“If it were me,” a voice echoed in her mind, “I would continue to leverage my advantages to conclude the conversation. This is nothing to shy away from; you will encounter many similar situations in the future. Your concern should be how to gracefully decline without losing composure once the discussion ends.”
The voice in her head caused a twitch at the corner of her lips.
‘Such a composed tone, one would think she has a wealth of experience.’
‘Her words are sound, yet something about them feels off.’
Without dwelling on the source of her unease, she ultimately heeded the advice.
After a quiet minute, Dandelion, his brow furrowed, looked up from the letter.
“This is indeed Sister Penelope’s handwriting, but the date, August 27th…”
“Is there a problem?” Konehl-Ghervil inquired softly.
After a moment of contemplation, hand pressed to his forehead, Dandelion raised his gaze to her.
“I wish to ask you a question.”
“Please do.”
“Is today August 27th? I confess, I’ve been so preoccupied these past few days that I haven’t even thought to check the date.”
“That is understandable. Confined to such a place, it’s a blessing to even find sleep. Today is indeed the 27th, the day of Florence City’s annual flower exhibition.”
“So the flower exhibition has already begun? I had assumed you were asking Assistant Professor Gomor for assistance…” A hint of bitterness crossed Dandelion’s face.
“A week ago, Sister Penelope told me she would reveal a truth about the Cambaton family on the 27th.”
‘That would have been shortly before her disappearance.’
Konehl-Ghervil calculated the timeline in her mind, refraining from interrupting the man’s outpouring.
“In truth, my despondency these past few days stems from this very matter. It has nothing to do with the hospital wing or the Holy Temple; they’ve treated me well, merely restricting my freedom somewhat.”
“Did she say anything else?”
‘With only this, the clues are too sparse; I cannot deduce anything significant. She requires more useful information.’
“What specifically do you mean?”
“Anything you can recall—memorable words or actions—would suffice.”
Dandelion fell silent, fumbling in his pocket for a brass key.
He then moved to the bookcase behind him, unlocked a drawer, and retrieved a notebook bound in black leather.
“Roughly two weeks before that incident, she would record things in this notebook daily. Sometimes, when I visited the manor, I’d find her drawing in it.”
“I found this notebook the day after the incident.”
“Where did you find it?”
“In her room.”
“Her room at the manor?”
“No, it was at the family estate.”
Dandelion shook his head.
“She hadn’t returned home in quite some time, and the rooms in the estate had been meticulously cleaned by the servants, so no one else noticed. Only I knew of her habit of keeping her diary on the second shelf of the bookcase, on the far left. What puzzles me, however, is that this notebook appeared at the estate, not the manor.”
‘The timing is easily surmised: it must have been placed in the room on the night Mrs. Penelope disappeared, likely around the family dinner.’
‘Her motive… was she attempting to hide it somewhere inconspicuous, yet where someone familiar with her habits would still find it?’
“Have you shown it to the doctors?”
Before the notebook could be opened, Konehl-Ghervil posed another question.
“I even suspect they’ve confined me here *because* of this notebook! They believe I might know the meaning of these drawings!”
As he spoke of the doctors, a flicker of indignation crossed Dandelion’s face.
“If I knew, I would have spoken long ago! When a loved one’s safety is at stake, what reason would I have to conceal anything? Those cold-blooded executioners ought to learn what family truly means… perhaps they have no family at all!”
‘He wouldn’t be held under house arrest merely for such a reason. After all, he is the eldest son of a respected baron, destined to inherit the title in a few years.’
‘Offending such a local magnate would yield no benefit.’
‘More importantly, Konehl-Ghervil trusted Dr. Callan’s character and believed this was indeed the protection she spoke of.’
‘However, she saw no need to explain herself to him. Their positions differed, and naturally, so did their perspectives.’
‘Forcing the issue might disrupt the pleasant conversational atmosphere they had managed to establish.’
The notebook was incomplete; its first page had been deliberately torn in half diagonally.
What remained was a fragmented sketch.
It was drawn with a foundational understanding of art and aesthetics, focusing on light and shadow.
It depicted a desert from a bird’s-eye view, with a rock-hewn entrance at its center, barely discernible as a cave.
Three-quarters of the cave entrance was lost to the torn section.
There were no distinguishing landmarks around it, only a simple, shaded sand dune, rendered with light strokes and smudged paper, its face turned away from the light.
The second page showed a scene inside the cave: a small girl, clad in short boots made of camel hide, peeking from behind a heavily eroded rock.
The third page presented a forty-five-degree aerial view of a small town.
Given the depiction of a setting sun, Konehl-Ghervil couldn’t ascertain if this scene preceded or followed the cave exploration.
Flipping through further, all the sketches depicted everyday life in the town.
It was an oasis town, primarily sustained by animal husbandry, raising camels, sheep, and goats.
Its inhabitants also served as guides for explorers and research expeditions.
In essence, life there was unremarkable, offering little of note.
In the subsequent pages, several were torn away, but the narrative continued from the initial two.
Guided by the little girl, the scene moved inside the cavern, revealing a vast space where houses, constructed from raw earth and rock, also stood.
A series of disturbing, consecutive images then appeared.
The little girl’s hair had fallen out, her cervical and lumbar vertebrae elongated, her skin grew rough with scales, and her face twisted into a green, reptilian visage.
Behind her, within the buildings and along the roads, more “lizard-people” of similar appearance emerged.
Reaching what was, strictly speaking, not the final page—three pages having been torn out, making it the fourth-to-last—
This particular page, while less overtly terrifying, was still imbued with an unsettling strangeness.
The sun was painted black, casting dark light upon the town.
People went about their lives and work as usual, yet the foreign explorers, caravans, and scholars had transformed into those very lizard-people.
‘Greenland Lizards.’
Govet-Ghervil’s voice suddenly resonated in Konehl-Ghervil’s mind, nearly startling her.
“There’s a legend that Greenland Lizards, after consuming humans, learn to walk like them.
Some, after eating enough, can even transform entirely into humans.
They then infiltrate human groups, speaking human languages.”
“Is it truly just a legend?” Konehl-Ghervil asked, holding her breath.
“Merely a legend.”
“At any rate, I’ve never witnessed it myself.
To my knowledge, these tales are fabricated by the desert inhabitants to deceive outsiders.
The elder generations revere Greenland Lizards as divine creations, possessing sacred power, and thus inviolable.”
“Which deity would create such malevolent beings… surely not the Goddess of Retrocognition?”
The voice in her mind fell silent.
“…”
“Govet-Ghervil?”
“Sister Govet-Ghervil?”
Konehl-Ghervil called out twice, testing the silence.
“Of course not!” a voice boomed.
“I was pondering how to teach you to distinguish between Greenland Lizards and ordinary ones.
Furthermore, you are being utterly disrespectful!
As a member of the abbey, how could you entertain such thoughts?
I must thoroughly correct your thinking and compel you to repent before the Goddess…”
“I would prefer you teach me how to distinguish them first.”
‘She wouldn’t fall for that Goddess routine; it was barely good enough to fool a child.’
With the incessant chatter in her head, she began to feel a slight dizziness.
Noticing her distress, Govet-Ghervil’s tone shifted to one of questioning concern.
“What’s wrong? In someone else’s dream, your dream power shouldn’t be depleted unless you actively use it.
Is it perhaps because of the drawings?”
“Regardless, you should rest for a moment.
I can create the illusion that you’re still examining the notebook.”
Without pushing herself, Konehl-Ghervil always treated matters concerning her health with utmost caution.
Sitting with her eyes closed for a five-minute nap, she felt considerably better.
Seeing that she was fine, Govet-Ghervil dispelled the illusion, her voice echoing in Konehl-Ghervil’s mind.
“Others might require complicated methods to distinguish Greenland Lizards, but you will not.”
“If a lizard makes eye contact with you and then immediately vanishes, it is, in all likelihood, a Greenland Lizard.”