It's feels like another question was added in my ever pondering mind as I contemplated about what that old man was saying to me before disappearing in front of me when I have so many questions to ask

Then there's the fact that I couldn't sleep, or that I couldn't feel any drowsiness.

Maybe this is my power in this world, not able sleep properly but never feel the fatigue of sleep deprivation.

Indeed, my eyes are still light and wide, and my heart and mind was fast. Especially my mind. It's been ripped into thinking about that old man's pleading to me and about what happened to my mother when I died. Or, maybe I am not dead and I'm in coma sleeping in a hospital bed now and all of this is just a feverish dream.

I have a red cross membership card but would that suffice for treatment on hospital bills? Who knows, maybe everything is a dream and I'm in a hospital with mother and the gang right by my side right now. While, maybe, just maybe, Erika, Mary, and Jeanne, alongside with Neil, Allan, and Roland finding a way to aid mother.

I hope so, I really hope so. Because why does everything felt so real, everything around me... These irritating uneven wool, my head resting on my elbow, and above the sheer coldness... Those thought are just some after thought on what was really I felt inside.

I wonder why Erika did that, what was her reasons, why didn't she just told the truth to my friends and just lied to everyone else. Maybe I did died, maybe the paramedics declared me D.O.A. Maybe that's why she lied. I wonder what mother felt, I wonder if she's doing fine.

I wonder how many days or years went by before she got over my death and found something else to be happy? I wonder if Erika, and Jeanne got over me and finally found someone. I wonder if they didn't. I wonder if mother couldn't bear it and did something bad to herself, I wonder if Erika isolated herself because I tried to be hero. I wonder if I broke the hearts of the two that... I don't know... I wonder if things go differently that day, maybe it was better if I wasn't born at all...

Shut up! Goddammit.

Slapping myself and rubbing off the useless watering worries of my eyes. I wore my shoes and went down stairs, the barely peeking sun is practically giving me enough reason to start the day now. It was dark but I'm certain that I can navigate the place. Finding the bucket, I went to the back door and navigated my way to the main street.

The morning mists and its freezing kiss kept me company under the eventual fading stars.

I tied my bucket and threw it down the well.

Rotating the wheel it made a squeaking pain that echoed throughout the ghost silent street. Which I felt sorry since I might be disturbing someone's sleep right now.

But, I didn't have feel sorry for too long when I heard a louder, more boisterous, thundering clopping that will and has certainly awoken some people.

It was heading towards my direction as I saw them. The ground rumbled as men in a column formation of 15 men carrying spears and some men carrying guns that I recall in pirates movies -- Muskets, or Flintlocks as I recalled -- They followed three cavaliers, with horses big and strong.

Aside from the two flanking horse men that held a red banner. The center cavalier, dawned with a helmet covering his entire face, as is his temple to his toes were all covered in armour gave me the aura that he was the leader.

I watch them march on with thundering discipline as it felt like they didn't even see me as a threat when they march on.

Soon after them, was a parade of men, children and women breathing out white smokes as they rubbed their hands when they marched on to the cold mist of dusk.

On their hands were scythes and rakes, straw hats and bonnets, and sacks and sticks. With in this parade were mooing ox and horse drawn carts, and donkeys that was strapped with empty large baskets.

Along with them they carried staffs that had small metallic hooks on their wrist that made the lantern hold and sway for it's dear life as they marched their way to church.

Unlike the stoic soldiers the farmers gave me attention with a slight nod and a quick look before focusing their attention back to rubbing their hands and keeping warm.

Only when the last wheel barrow and another smaller column of soldiers did I pick up my bucket and decided to return. I don't what were they doing out here so early, but I am sure that some of them are going to eat at the inn later. I'll be very generous with the pepper when cooking since we already have salt.

“Elfien! There you are.”

On my way back with a bucket of water I saw May wearing a baggy cloak whist running towards me before I could ask what's her hurry. She told me to leave the bucket be and dressed me with a cloak, a baggy one like hers.

“Come on.”

She said as she dragged me towards church.

What about the inn?

I would ask, but seeing how we are going to the small hill then maybe this is their Sunday and hearing her oath to a divine last night, I wouldn't doubt she would be one of the first people to be in the church.

*****

Just like the church we attend back home we were quite and stood up, down, up, pray and repeat. The only differences is that I didn't understood the language used it sounded ancient and foreign. Then it's cold but because of the baggy cloak it was bearable inside this crowded church of candles, chorus, and heads of children that nodded from asleep to awake.

Furthermore, instead of selfie taking tourists, 4x4's and mini vans lined up outside, it was a throng of praying farmers, soldiers, oxens, horses, carts and wheel barrows.

It was exciting to say the least. Candles were the norm for our source of light, armoured men armed with spears, halberd, and swords were allowed and if one has a sword, just like May, they held it such devotion like how Jeanne taught me how to pray hail Mary on a rosary.

What stood out the most to me was it was my first time to see a beautiful woman lead a religious ceremony, and predominantly nuns faced Serafina as she spoke ancient words and scriptures.

Though, I had never been a devout back home and just sit through any sermons I did like the choruses they played. In this otherworldly church it wasn't different. When they all sang it sounded like a hymn of French, Latin, or German. Can't tell but all I could hear is serene, soft, heavenly voices. Where you couldn't comprehend their language but was mesmerized by the soul in their voice that transcend over the language barrier.

****

“The goddess will see the weather be dry, the bushels be plentiful, and the seeds be many. Go fort, the goddess will see thee weather merry.”

We were outside the church as to receive the blessings of the goddess, I was told.

Serafina, together with the other women that dressed almost like nuns sang a song of ancient tongue and a green light gleamed on their palms.

Then by a gesture of Serafina's hand the light was shot upwards towards the sky like a rocket. The Light then exploded and scattered like a fire work of celebration but not a sound came. Instead the green light fragmented into a million tiny meteorite that fell on the praying farmers. They left with unfathomable thanking to the priestess.

“May her divine mercy protect you from the great enemy, so that you may protect our farmers, thus the future of our lands.”

Again, with the nuns, they sang an ancient song and a light of halo like spirit circled around the kneeling soldiers that made their armour of leather and steel gleam faintly.

“For the lord and home!”

They cried out. And with an orderly fashion of discipline they formed up and marched away.

When the priestess now walked towards us. I did what May did; kneeling with one knee on the cobbled pavilion as she bowed down.

“And what of the great, great, great, grand daughter of Ellena? After so long, what shall she ask of the great divine today? ”

I peeked and saw a pretty smile form up as Serafina noticed my sights.

“I wish for my son to have a sharp mind, adaptability, and courage and heart of a noble soldier.”

She replied.

“Please... I beg of you.”

“The goddess's gifts are not for individuality. Mind you May the innkeeper.”

A nun spoke out.

“Though, we can grant both of you the good will of the goddess.”

Another one spoke out,

“And the late powerful blessing for Elfien Hunt.”

All were in favor by this, and even me though I didn't voice it out. That way I can be faster and stronger on helping May and the gang, and to whenever Elfien's father would come.

“The sun is waking up my oracle, the masses will soon arrive.”

“May,”

Serafina knelt down to her.

“It is not a selfish request, daughters of the goddess, for I wish to bestows these to the soon to be protector of this town. My successor, the first son of Ellena, and my son. I wish nothing but the greater good of all.”

Her voice were louder this time.

“Hmph! If that was the reason then every king, lord, and noble would say the same alibi to give a blessing to their heir and child.”

“The goddess will not accept for this individual request.”

From the corner of my eye I could May's teeth grind.

“Sister Martha, and Agatha.”

The priestess stood and ordered them to sing. Which they protested.

“It is against the scriptures, my holiness, the goddess will never answer a selfish request.”

“Then we shall see.”

Serafina again ordered the nuns to sing with her.

“Your holiness, I must say! Isn't getting his son back alive enough?”

Me, Serafina, and May looked at that woman, who backed off with a whimper immediately.

“Agatha, if the goddess deems the innkeeper selfish and unfair, as I assume you feel, then her sword and any other blessing given to her will be taken away from her. That is the oath she took when she held the sword of Ellena!”

Her voice still lingered with calmness but it was a bit louder than before.

“But if she is found to be selfless and true to her word, then the goddess's blessing will be brought fort. Remember, it is not us who decide who will be receive her gift, it she.”

After that, her orders weren't objected.

I soon found myself in the middle of Serafina and her followers as they began to sing and face their palms towards me.

I stood not knowing what to do.

Meanwhile, behind the singing was May clutching the sword to her forehead, her eye brow furrowed deeply.

*Ascentii*

To say the least, me and May left with her sword at her waist and me having a kiss on the forehead. My heart is still beating fast as we walked back home, or so I thought.

Through the still dark alleyways, streets, and the occasional barking mutt. May held my hand lead me through the mazing street. We didn't have any light to guide us -- say the small rays that peeking sun sparsely gave -- but she navigated it like it was her very room. When I asked her where we were going she replied:

“A place where you can recall your memory. A place where you learned how to kill a monster when you were just a baby.”

What.