“The inheritance procedures shouldn’t take long; I’ll be back soon. I look forward to our next meeting.”
Konehl-Ghervil watched Ramsey drive away from the police station entrance in a black car, distinctly characterized by its arched roof, round headlights, and equally rounded rear.
A complex mix of emotions stirred within Konehl-Ghervil.
Anthea, the abbess, had left behind more than just a few clothes and some money; there was also a property, all of which required complete legal procedures to be officially inherited.
Before arriving in this world, she had virtually no friends and was unsure how to interact normally with anyone outside her parents.
Having experienced a brief period of life here, she found that everyone she had met so far was kind. Even the unassuming fat police chief had offered to drive her, an offer she politely declined. She yearned to explore this unique world, having missed out on so much due to her illness in the past.
“Are you truly going to do that? It’ll take at least forty minutes to walk from here to 101 Lily of the Valley Street.”
101 Lily of the Valley Street, the address of the inherited property, lay some distance from the police station. Concerned about Konehl-Ghervil traveling alone, the female officer Clovie offered to accompany her.
Coincidentally, the property was located on the opposite side of the intersection where they had first arrived in the bustling market, making the walk essentially a return journey along the same route.
“I wish to walk a bit more, to simply take a stroll. Though I may be illiterate, I’m certainly not so helpless as to be unable to ask for directions. But what about you? Is your work alright?” She glanced sideways at the female officer beside her, who had changed from her police uniform into comfortable casual clothes.
“My poor sister, has your amnesia become so severe that you’ve forgotten the concept of a night shift? The Misty City Police Department is renowned for its humane policies. If you hadn’t arrived just in time this morning, hah, I imagine I’d be comfortably dreaming and praying for the goddess’s blessings right now, not slowly strolling in this heat.”
“Officers also need ample rest to better handle emergencies during their shifts.”
Yawning without a care for her image, head tilted back, it was evident she was truly exhausted. The woman on duty and the woman off duty were like two entirely different people; with no superior present, her words flowed more freely.
Noticing the young woman’s silence, she added,
“I’m not blaming you; it’s actually quite nice to have someone to walk with occasionally.”
It was midday, and the sunlight, diffused by the mist, was not particularly strong, though the air felt oppressively humid. After walking for less than ten minutes, Konehl-Ghervil already felt a touch of weariness.
She tugged at her collar for air, her gaze drifting upwards to the pervasive mist hanging over the buildings. Most of the female officer’s complaints faded into the background as Konehl-Ghervil’s curiosity remained fixed on these peculiar fogs.
“This period… does it refer to summer and winter each year?”
“One could say that…” Realizing the young woman’s misunderstanding, the female officer clarified, “If cases involve the ‘mist’ or the discovery of ‘patients,’ they are typically handed over to individuals like Mr. Ramsey for handling. And then there are… the ‘doctors’ of the Dream Weavers Sect.” Her voice softened and lowered, as if recalling something unsettling.
As an ‘outsider,’ Konehl-Ghervil was entirely unfamiliar with certain organizations and powers. While she could explain this to others by citing her amnesia, fundamental matters of common sense might still arouse suspicion, so she endeavored to avoid such questions.
Of all the words she had heard so far, only ‘Dream Weavers’ sounded somewhat familiar. This country, it seemed, also worshipped the Dream Weaver Goddess.
Yet, how could she believe in a goddess of dreams when she herself never dreamed?
Since falling ill at the age of eight, she had never experienced a single dream, save for the one so vivid it felt more like reality when she first crossed into this world.
Her nights at the monastery had been similarly dreamless, which only solidified her belief that everything she was experiencing was real.
Surveying the street once more, she noted its pervasive backwardness; it was hardly spacious, with its narrowest points allowing only two carriages to pass abreast along its winding path.
On either side of the road ran open, crude drainage ditches, occasionally emitting foul odors. The irregularly clustered houses seemed to be arranged to avoid… that church?
Across the street, Konehl-Ghervil’s eyes lit up. A building, noticeably more beautiful than its surroundings, stood prominently there, separated from the street by a fenced-off open space—likely the Dream Weaver Goddess’s church.
She hadn’t observed it closely on her way in, but now, up close, she could discern more details. It appeared to be a mid-sized structure, crafted from marble, lending it a grand and magnificent appearance. Just as she considered approaching for a closer look, a voice drifted from behind her.
“Half a month ago, in the dead of night, the first fire swept through this church. The goddess’s statue was destroyed, and all five caretakers perished without exception.”
Turning around, she saw the female officer’s solemn expression as she shifted the case from her right hand to her left. If Konehl-Ghervil remembered correctly, a black leather gun holster was strapped to the outside of her right thigh.
“The fire wasn’t extensive at the time; it didn’t damage the structure or facilities. Do you want to go inside and take a look?”
“No…” Shaking her head, Konehl-Ghervil turned and walked in the opposite direction. She had always maintained an attitude of neither actively seeking out nor rejecting things related to ‘gods,’ nor was her curiosity so strong as to make her want to explore the scene of a recent fatality. She also noticed that the mist above the church was significantly denser than in the surrounding areas.
“A wise choice,” the female officer quickly caught up. “Even I, an experienced police officer, would be hesitant to go anywhere potentially connected to the ‘mist.’”
“So, what’s your earliest memory regarding the monastery or the late Anthea?”
“It would be the evening of July 1st, when Anthea found me unconscious beneath the goddess’s statue, drawn by some disturbance. My memory before that point is completely blank.” She felt there was no harm in telling the officer, as no one would guess how she truly appeared unless they had witnessed it firsthand.
“Still, I don’t quite understand… could it really be related to *that*?” The female officer’s voice was barely a whisper, as if she were speaking to herself.
“That? Perhaps there’s one more thing I forgot to tell you all.” Konehl-Ghervil still believed it had merely been a hallucination.
“Do tell; often, the key to solving a case lies in an insignificant detail.” Her interest piqued, the female officer leaned closer.
“It happened last night, just as I was about to sneak out… no, as I was planning to leave my bedroom for a stroll around the monastery. A rat, burned completely black, its skin festering and bones exposed, tapped at my window, almost shattering the glass.
I’m certain it was an illusion because when I came to my senses, there was nothing outside the window, and the glass was perfectly intact.”
Konehl-Ghervil tilted her head slightly, hoping to see the expression of someone listening to a ghost story on the female officer’s face.
She sought this reaction to confirm her suspicion and the feeling she had experienced at the time were correct.
She had underestimated the officer’s earnestness, who, believing the young woman’s fantastical tale, proceeded to babble on herself.
“Did you… tell Anthea about this, this morning?”
“No,” Konehl-Ghervil pouted, her tone tinged with displeasure.
“Both the inheritance documents and your repeated interrogations made it clear that as of this morning, Solis Monastery and everyone within it no longer exist in this world. Where would I go to tell her?”
“Ah… it seems I spoke out of turn.” The female officer paused, then reached out as if to pat the young woman’s head, but Konehl-Ghervil sidestepped, evading the touch.
This reaction elicited a wry smile from the female officer.
“We never thought you were lying, nor did we ever say we didn’t believe you; I can vouch for them on that. Tell you what, I’ll relay everything you saw, every single word of your hallucination, to Mr. Ramsey. He’s far more specialized in these matters than we are.”
“Who you tell is irrelevant to me. I’m not so childish; I’m an adult, and I won’t hold it against you all.”
Konehl-Ghervil found the officer’s attempt to pat her head quite impolite. She used this as an excuse to make a point, and to gauge the officer’s attitude. Having achieved her objective, there was no need to press further.
“I’m quite curious how you determined I wasn’t the culprit and simply let me go. Logically, in a case like this, the possibility of an acquaintance being involved shouldn’t be ruled out.”
“That’s easily explained.” Seeing that the young woman had more or less forgiven her, and despite a lingering hint of annoyance, the female officer raised an eyebrow and patiently replied.
“Because in this city—no, in this entire country, especially for those of us in this line of work—most people have at least heard the rumors, even if they haven’t witnessed them firsthand. Perhaps you’ve heard them too? Would you like to try to recall?”
“…” Konehl-Ghervil paused, disliking this penchant for suspense.
She was about to take another step back, eyeing the officer as if she were an idiot, when the female officer quickly stopped her with a deep, somewhat proud tone.
“Anthea, the abbess of Solis Monastery, was one of the very few individuals capable of communicating with the goddess in dreams and seeking her blessings. Her role in resisting the early epidemics in this country was irreplaceable. Let’s put it this way: it was this city’s honor to have her relocate Solis Monastery here.”
“What does that have to do with you determining I’m not the culprit?” The female officer was now giving her an unreliable impression. How could police officers believe in such things? By that logic, could they have simply asked the abbess in a dream who the perpetrator was in previous cases?
“Don’t you understand yet, Sister Konehl-Ghervil?” Raising the briefcase and placing it on Konehl-Ghervil’s head, the female officer pressed down slightly, causing an immediate pang of soreness in Konehl-Ghervil’s neck, forcing her to support it with both hands.
“Take it off! My neck is going to break!”
‘This person was truly holding a grudge! Was it just because she had given her a few cold looks earlier?’
Though she protested vehemently in her heart, resistance was futile. She then heard the officer continue:
“Almost no one could join Solis Monastery. Those who did passed the abbess’s assessment, and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say they received the goddess’s approval. Therefore, by that status alone, you could not possibly be the arsonist.”
“But she’s dead now! The one who could communicate with the goddess is dead!”
Perhaps flustered by the pressure, Konehl-Ghervil realized her slip of the tongue.
Yet, the effect was surprisingly good; the female officer’s heightened spirits visibly deflated, and the briefcase obediently returned to her hand.
Rubbing her neck, she now understood why the portly police chief had been so courteous to her at the station. Divine endorsement and backing—in a country like this, some people truly bought into such things.
This explanation resolved her confusion and sparked even more curiosity about Anthea. How could someone, three days after their death, create an illusion for her to live within?
‘Or perhaps… those three days were all a dream, and I had truly woken up this morning, amidst the burnt ruins of the monastery!?’
Her brows furrowed as Konehl-Ghervil entertained an incredible yet barely plausible conjecture.
Approximately an hour later, having turned right at the first intersection they encountered on their way and walked for nearly three hundred meters, the female officer set down her case beside the wooden gate of a house’s front yard.
“This is it. The key should be one from that bunch; you’d know better than I. I must head back now; I’ll visit again another day.”
Ultimately, she was still a police officer, not one to be significantly affected or disheartened by a single remark. She was still willing to offer the young woman a smile.
“Won’t you come in… for a cup of tea before you go…?”
“You should get some good rest first.” The female officer paused, then turned back. “The tea suggestion is a good one; next time, it’s on me.”
Indeed, the young woman was now drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, mouth agape. This was despite the female officer slowing her pace to accommodate her, turning a forty-minute walk into over an hour.
“Sometime soon, either we or someone from the Church might seek you out to gather some information. Regardless of who comes calling, be sure to remain vigilant, especially with the Church. If you ever regain your memory, and if possible, I hope you’ll inform us immediately. Also, try not to be too sad if you recall unpleasant things… the goddess is with you.”
With these words, the female officer waved goodbye and departed.
Watching her figure recede into the distance, the young woman brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, bowing slightly. A smile, whether bitter or relieved, played on her lips.
“I will. Thank you.”