The city of San d?Oria was draped in a gossamer mantle of morning mist; the silence contrasting against the tumultuous events of the Harvest Festival, just ended the night before.
As I walked along the dimly lit alleys, I passed citizens heading to work, bodies hunched against the morning chill. A creaking chocobo cart piled high with sacks of wheat was overtaken by energetic young adventurers as it trundled slowly down the path.
It appeared as if vividly colored flowers bloomed by the sides of the alley, but on closer inspection they turned out to be nothing more than candy wrappers. Until only yesterday, one could hear the excited voices of children as they compared bags of sweets in this very street. Those same children would likely still be dreaming in their beds at this hour.
"Brian. Gertrude. With the aid of the adventurers, we have finally divined the motivations of these sinister spirits. The time of exorcism is at hand."
The steady voice of Roger, my fellow exorcist, spoke to me through the linkpearl held to my ear.
"Who would have thought such a simple idea would allow someone to comprehend the Cursed Tongue. Those adventurers must have had sharp hearing," Brian added with a stifled yawn.
The Cursed Tongue.
Any who belonged to a nation involved in the Great War would recall the unsettling language uttered by the Dark Lilies.
It rose into the air along with the ominous tolling of the beastman soldiers? gongs...
Just before the Harvest Festival began, it was Roger who, having spent his youth in Bastok during the war, was able to shed light on the origins of the witches? speech.
According to his tale, this language was instinctively understandable by all creatures of darkness. It is thought that the Shadow Lord encouraged its use in order to bridge the racial and cultural differences among the various beastman armies.
I had been searching for a way to understand the language ever since I heard the whisperings of that witch in the woods of Ronfaure.
Eventually I came to the conclusion that one must assume the form of a monster in order to find some meaning in those haunting words.
The festival began several days later, and found the three of us making the rather strange request of adventurers to "put on the guise of a monster and follow after the witches."
I wonder if this was not exactly as the Goddess had planned.
The investigations progressed at a rapid pace, and many adventurers came forth to bring us the vital clues we needed to gain control over the spirits.
The truths we learned were quite unexpected:
Homesickness, lost hopes, past loves...
These six witches had returned to their hometowns, unable to let go of precious memories that still stirred some part of their souls.
And that was the simple explanation to the mystery of their appearance.
"The Dark Lilies never completely lost their mortal selves. And that is why I believe the adventurers were able to understand them despite having no knowledge of the Cursed Tongue," I said, responding to Brian?s earlier comment.
I continued on, towards the apparitions I was duty-bound to banish.
