Extra's Perfect Ending

At the end of the day, no one made any attempt to approach the church with their theory. It was merely conjecture, and they were all fatigued, as Onia had mentioned. Onia appeared hesitant about seeking the church's help in finding her sister, a reluctance that everyone noticed—except perhaps Ghaarsh, who took her words at face value. The moon hung high as Brent prepared to call it a night. He set up his bed and glanced at Ghaarsh, who was sleeping soundly on the other bed. Despite his rugged appearance, Ghaarsh slept peacefully, almost without a sound, defying the expectation that he would be a loud sleeper. Brent moved to extinguish the oil lamp when— Knock, knock, knock. Brent heard it after the third knock. The sound was faint, just loud enough to notice but not enough to wake Ghaarsh. He approached the door cautiously looking through a peephole. "Who is it?" he asked in a low voice, trying not to disturb Ghaarsh. The knock seemed intended for him since his bed was closest to the door. But he could use a little caution. "Can we talk for a bit?" Brent raised his eyebrows at the familiar voice. It was Onia, and she sounded more nervous than usual. He opened the door to find the purple-haired girl standing there, the light from the hallway oil lamp casting shadows into the room. She wore a large backpack, the straps digging into her shoulders. "What do you want?" Brent asked, tensing up slightly. He wasn't sure why she would visit him at such an hour. "Come out and close the door," she replied. Brent complied, stepping into the hallway and shutting the door behind him. "Okay, what's this about?" he asked. "C-could you help me?" Onia bit her lip, speaking without her usual confidence. Brent found her uncharacteristic demeanor puzzling, she wasn't one to ask for help, especially when they were already assisting her. "Are you okay? Who are you?" Brent asked, half-jokingly, though he couldn't help but wonder. Onia's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm asking you to help me!" she repeated, this time with more force. "Okay, okay, I get it. What do you want me to do?" "I want you to help me find Theia," she said, struggling to articulate her thoughts. "I'm already helping you, aren't I?" Brent tilted his head. "No, I mean…" Onia hesitated. "I mean for you to help me personally. Track down Theia with me." "Why?" Onia glanced around the hallway, lowering her voice. "You probably noticed that I don't trust the church… I just…" "You think Theia has a star?" She averted her gaze, Brent's guess hitting too close to home. "Plutus said he's seen Theia using mystic power. He even had a divination priest confirm it. My sister couldn't have known how to awaken the normal way… If the church catches her, I don't think it would go well for her." Brent had suspected as much. Being branded a heretic meant either a public execution or a lifetime of imprisonment—if one was lucky. The worst fate was becoming a burner, a living weapon for the church. It made sense that Onia would ask for help, but one question still lingered in Brent's mind. "Why me?" "I… trust you the most." "O…K?" Brent was baffled. They had only known each other for a month. Compared to Klad, Bramon, or Ghaarsh, he couldn't understand why she'd choose him. "Don't get the wrong idea. I just feel like I can trust you the most. Ghaarsh isn't good at tracking people, Bramon is an avid Sun God believer and Klad… there's this wall between him and everyone else. I can't bring myself to trust him." "…" "I've said my piece! So, are you going to help me or not?" Onia quickly added, trying to regain her composure. "I'm in. What's your plan?" Onia's face lit up with relief. "Thank you! I knew I could trust you." She reached into her backpack and pulled out two pieces of cloth—black hooded cloaks. "Put this on." "What are we doing with these?" Brent asked, feeling a sense of foreboding. "We're going to steal from the church!" "What!?" Brent almost shouted. "Are you out of your mind?" Stealing from the church was a surefire way to get oneself executed. Even a child knew that. "Listen to me first. Three years ago, I remember my father selling some of his treasures. One of them was called the Bloodline Sapphire. It has the power to locate your relatives using your blood. It was sold to a noble in Tumidus to find his son. Before I came here, I used some money to buy information, and apparently, the church bought it after the noble found his son." "Do you know where they store it?" "Somewhere underground." Brent smacked his forehead. Of course, it would be underground, that was the most secure place they had. "This is a suicide mission." "And you're going to help me with it," Onia replied with her usual confident smile. Brent sighed, realizing he had chosen the wrong dialogue option this time. --------------- Two Hours Earlier Hilda had just finished the tasks Reeva had assigned her. She had secured the location for their new restaurant and even arranged a loan to get them started. It was almost dark when she arrived at the hotel. However, something felt off as she entered. "Where's the master?" she asked Theia, who had been napping. The purple-haired girl woke up, looking as surprised as Hilda. "I… I… I don't know," Theia stammered, shaking off her drowsiness. "He said he'd visit Holen and be back by six." "And he's not back?" Hilda checked the clock—it was already 6:32. Reeva wasn't the type to break his word. If he said he'd be here by six, he would be here by six. "…" Hilda's frustration grew. If Theia were a maid under her, she'd be fired for neglecting her master. For all they knew, he could have been kidnapped by a heretic.