Chapter 3: A Doctor’s Kindness and a Mother’s Embrace

“This way, please.”

The man led Emil into his own clinic. An anatomical chart hung on one wall, while another was lined with books on medicine and herbs. Evidence of numerous patient consultations was scattered throughout the interior.

Emil had never seen this man before leaving the village. The man guided Emil to a chair, then offered him a warm cup of tea.

“Oh, it’s quite alright…”

“This tea helps alleviate fatigue. It was brewed just a moment ago, so it’s still warm.”

Despite Emil’s polite refusal, the man earnestly insisted, explaining that since it was already poured, he should drink it. Having lived a life of strict discipline within the seminary, fragrant tea was a luxury Emil rarely encountered.

For someone who had long experienced restrictions on food and drink, the tea offered by the man was unlike anything Emil had ever seen. The tea, brewed directly from tea leaves, had a delicate pink hue. The man, who had been calmly moving about the room, now retrieved the necessary medical tools and sat facing Emil.

“It’s a minor scratch, but… if it was caused by a dog, it could fester severely later. It would be best to treat it proactively, if possible.”

“Ah… thank you.”

Having nothing more to add, Emil offered only a brief word of thanks. Strictly speaking, a dog hadn’t caused the wound, but he chose to remain silent. The man appeared deeply focused as he ground herbs and collected their essence.

Despite his refined features, the man’s hands were remarkably large and gnarled, their rough texture suggesting a history of considerable hardship. Emil watched the man, engrossed in his herbs, until their eyes unexpectedly met.

“This might sting a little.”

Emil was about to say he would be fine, but the medicine touched his skin first. Sure enough, a sharp, stinging pain instantly flared. He subtly furrowed his brow, barely suppressing a groan.

He had no desire to reveal any weakness to a stranger. It was the same reason he had initially tried to decline assistance.

Emil closed his eyes, waiting for the treatment to conclude. Each time the man moved, a subtle scent wafted towards him. It was a pleasant, soft aroma, mingled with the fragrance of herbs. He imagined his own body must carry the distinctive scent of the cathedral.

“It’s all done.”

“…Thank you.”

The man seemed inclined to bandage the wound with cloth, but Emil preemptively declined. He reasoned it was better to leave the scratch exposed rather than have his neck wrapped, which might alarm his mother. He knew she would be surprised after so long, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Are you the new priest, perhaps?” the man asked casually, as he tidied away the medicines and tools.

“I don’t attend mass, so I wouldn’t know, but I don’t recall seeing you in this village before.”

“…I’ve just completed seminary. I haven’t been formally ordained yet. I’ve come here to visit my mother. I lived here continuously before I left for the seminary.”

“Ah, in that case…”

“Emil, let’s go. Lauren will be waiting.”

Jack, who had been waiting outside, burst in, cutting off the man’s words. At the mention of Lauren’s name, the man’s eyes shifted subtly.

“Lauren? Lauren Reardon?”

“Ah, yes, that’s right.”

“I said let’s go, hurry up.”

Jack grumbled, constantly urging Emil to leave. Emil felt awkward about Jack’s brusque manner. With no other choice, he offered his thanks to the man, then followed Jack outside.

He could feel the man’s gaze slowly sweeping over him. While he found the man’s reaction to his mother’s name peculiar, there was no opportunity to inquire further. Jack was already striding far ahead.

“Jack. Jack?”

Emil called his name repeatedly, but Jack seemed to have no intention of turning back. Emil was forced to quicken his pace to catch up with him.

“Walk with me. Why are you in such a rush?”

“What are you talking about? I’m not in a rush at all. I haven’t hurried you. It must be your imagination.”

Jack spouted an absurd excuse, then abruptly changed the subject. He reminisced about childhood friends before launching into a detailed account of his training. He subtly boasted that as a valued Guide of the village, he was well-treated, and in terms of physical strength, no ordinary soldier could rival him.

“That’s good to hear. I was secretly worried about what you’d become.”

“What nonsense. That’s hardly something you should say.”

Jack bristled at Emil’s comment, then proceeded to list old memories, chiding him—a scene unchanged from Emil’s recollections. Even as Emil chuckled playfully, Jack vehemently insisted he was different now.

Unable to simply listen to Jack’s casual distortion of the past, Emil began to argue back. Naturally, the matter of the man in the clinic was pushed to the back of his mind.

As they talked, letting their thoughts flow freely, the two soon arrived at his mother’s house.

His mother lived slightly removed from the village. Even from Grandma Camellia’s house, which bordered the forest, it was a long walk to reach Lauren’s home.

It was Emil’s father who had built this house. Though his memory was vague, he had heard it was constructed with the intention of preventing potential conflicts between his Esper mother and the villagers.

As they ventured deeper into the forest, the familiar house from Emil’s memories gradually came into view. It was a striking home, with its straight, red roof. As they drew closer, a gentle smile touched Emil’s lips.

He had felt indifferent upon leaving the seminary, but now, with his home so near, he found himself unable to suppress a surge of anticipation.

“Go on in.”

“What about you?”

“It’s a family reunion after years; I shouldn’t intrude. I’m not that oblivious.”

Jack winked and nudged Emil forward. The door, which had seemed so massive in his childhood, was now only about a head taller than him. Nothing had changed, save for the doorknob, which was a little more rusted than he remembered. He slowly pushed the door open.

*Creak—*

The unpleasant sound from the hinges did not bother him. In fact, it sounded almost like a welcome, making his spirits lift even higher.

“Who is it? Yanis?”

“It’s me, Mother.”

Lauren was knitting. Her eyes followed the needles as she casually inquired about the unexpected visitor’s identity, but upon hearing the voice she loved most and had longed for over so many years, she abruptly looked up. Standing before her was the son who had left home so long ago.

“…Emil? Is that you, Emil? Oh my heavens!”

Lauren dropped her knitting and rushed towards her son. However, as she took a swift step forward, overcome with joy, she suddenly flinched and retreated a step. A flicker of sadness crossed Emil’s eyes at his mother’s reaction.

Lauren slowly examined her son’s face. The chubby, angelic Emil from her memory, with his baby fat, was gone. The son she was reuniting with after several years had already grown taller than his mother and now embodied the perfect image of a priest.

His gentle, finely-featured face, which resembled Lauren’s, now held an elegance and piety that was different from before. The gaze he directed at her conveyed not only filial affection but also a transcendent love capable of embracing all the evils of the world.

“How long has it been? Was seminary life difficult?”

“Seminary life isn’t exactly luxurious, Mother. But it was a very good time for me.”

“Oh dear, I haven’t even started dinner yet…”

She had prepared ample ingredients for a meal for her son, whom she hadn’t seen in ages. Jack, his old friend, had even promised to help. However, Emil’s earlier-than-expected arrival made her anxious. This was no time to be sitting comfortably, knitting. She had intended to make him a simple gift to wear around his neck, but had overlooked the more important preparations.

“It’s alright. I just stopped by because I missed you, Mother. You can take your time if you’re tired. There’s still… quite a bit of time. I don’t think I’ll be leaving for a while.”

“Really?”

Lauren’s face brightened at Emil’s words. It was the best news she could have heard. Emil hesitated for a moment, then approached his mother, gently wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and kissed her forehead. The hand resting on her shoulder trembled slightly. At Emil’s display of affection, Lauren embraced her son and slowly patted his back.

“My beloved son.”

“Mother. …Mama.”

Only then did Emil belatedly pull his mother into a tight embrace, rubbing his cheek against hers. Despite being a simple expression of affection between mother and son, a subtle tension hung between them. Lauren, too, only relaxed after confirming that nothing untoward happened when their bodies touched.

They held each other in silence until Lauren was the first to lift her head and look into Emil’s face. It was a face she had longed to see for far too long. If the Church hadn’t forcefully taken her son to the seminary after confirming the ‘proof of God,’ the two would never have been separated.

For half a year after Emil’s enrollment, Lauren spent every night weeping. Not only was it uncertain when he would return, but even if he did, she could no longer claim as her own the son who had dedicated his soul to God.

Lauren raised her hand and stroked her son’s cheek. His skin, pale as if untouched by light, felt soft beneath her fingertips. Emil allowed his mother to examine and caress him, as she had longed to do.

Maternal love was the most powerful form of love a human could manifest, and the anguish of a mother forcibly separated from her child for so long was beyond his imagination. All he could do was allow her this. His mother’s gaze came to rest on one particular spot.

“…Ah.”

“Why are you hurt here?”

“It’s nothing, Mother.”

Knowing her gaze had settled on the recently injured area, Emil covered it with his hand. His mother seemed distressed by the sight of a wound on her son’s skin after so long. To alleviate her worry, Emil quickly changed the subject. He gently took her hands and kissed her fingertips.

“You’ve become much more stable.”

“…Thankfully.”

In Emil’s memory, sparks of flame used to erupt whenever his mother’s hands touched something. Though the flames were as small as embers, their frequency increased daily, and Lauren found them difficult to control. Emil often suffered minor burns.

After his departure for the seminary was decided, she would unconsciously shoot out flames, forcing Emil to wake in the early hours to extinguish fires on the floor. Traces of that time remained in the house.

Despite repairs with added wood, several uneradicated marks were visible. The house was tidier than Emil remembered; in fact, his mother’s meticulous care in decorating and organizing it made it almost unfamiliar.

“Emil, dear.”

Lauren gently called out to Emil, who had been lost in sentimental thoughts, recalling the past.

“Would it be alright if I invited another guest for dinner tonight? There’s someone I’d like to share a meal with.”

“Ah… Of course. That’s perfectly fine.”

“He’s someone who helped me greatly, both physically and emotionally, while you were away… so I’d like to introduce him to you, too.”

Emil smiled warmly at Lauren’s words.

“Anyone who has helped Mother is a benefactor to me as well. I’d like that very much.”