arrow_back Wuthering Waves Quests 
Rinascita Golden Anthem
Your Summer Will Never Wither
While heading to Trattoria Margherita, you encounter Carlotta, who invites you to join her for dinner. During the meal, you overhear a rumor about Daemons...
Quest List
Head to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Head to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Follow Carlotta to look for TopazDefeat the DaemonsHead to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Head to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Follow Carlotta to look for TopazHead to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Head to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Head to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Head to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00Head to Trattoria Margherita between 08:00 to 12:00
At the Margherita's Restaurant, you meet Carlotta. While sharing a meal, you overhear a rumor about the "Golden Anthem."
It's said that playing their last works can summon the Daemons. Suddenly, the melody begins to play, and the so-called Daemons quietly appear behind you.
Carlotta:
Rover, fancy running into you here.
Carlotta:
Won't you dine with me? Ms. Margherita asked me to sample her newest pizza, but my goodness, these portions...
Street Musician:
Did you hear what the Order's Acolytes found while clearing the abandoned library? A manuscript of a poem with an accompanying music sheet.
Street Musician:
The public has already caught wind of its contents. Did you know it was signed as Golden Anthem?
Street Musician:
They say it was their last work, written aboard the Pilgrim's Sail. I reckon the original finder fished it out of the sea and put it in the library, not knowing what it was.
Street Poet:
Shhh... quiet. They're criminals. Best not to mention them in public.
Carlotta:
Shh, that name is not to be spoken of in Ragunna.
Carlotta:
Simply put, the Golden Anthem was once a renowned Poets Society.
Carlotta:
Their three members were once the Sentinel's cantors, but the Order banished them for insulting the Divinity.
Carlotta:
Allegedly, their Pilgrim's Sail caught fire and none on board survived, and thus their last known work disappeared.
Street Poet:
Well, since the manuscript is no longer a secret, how does the tune sound?
Street Musician:
Give me a second, let me think...
Street Musician:
Ah! Hear that? It's exactly what they're playing now!
???:
Well... it would appear they were possessed by Daemons, just as this very article suggests.
Cristoforo approaches and greets you, mentioning a recent article from Ragunna that offers an unusual take on the "Golden Anthem" legend.
Cristoforo:
Friends, it's been too long. I gather you were also listening in on that conversation about the Golden Anthem's last work?
Carlotta:
What did you mean by Daemons?
Cristoforo:
"Resentful of the Order's verdict, they committed to paper a curse upon Rinascita and Ragunna."
Cristoforo:
"Those favored by the Divinity were the most willing to raise the blade of rebellion, for they alone knew how to make Divinity bleed and doctrines crumble."
Cristoforo:
"Though they died in exile to a great fire, their resentment festered in their music and poetry, transforming into horrors known as Daemons."
Cristoforo:
"Like the fire that dragged them to hell, these Daemons will spread throughout the land and burn all of Ragunna."
Cristoforo:
This article was recently published in the Ragunna Literary Journal... Quite the perspective, wouldn't you say? Vengeance borne of resentment—such dark and twisted characters are hard to resist.
Cristoforo:
Perhaps someone unwittingly played that tune just now and opened the Plushies to possession by the Daemons.
Cristoforo:
Then again, it's all conjecture. Those in the Poets Society died years ago, and who's to say what really happened?
Cristoforo:
Now, if those vengeful spirits really do exist... well, out of all the patrons here, they went straight for you, Rover. Curious and curiouser...
Cristoforo:
By the way, it just so happens that I made a copy of the Poet Society's last work.
Cristoforo:
Here, take it. Consider it a little souvenir from your... spirited encounter. Maybe it'll prove useful later.
Cristoforo:
Goodbye friends, a change of venue is in order. I must finish my play.
Carlotta:
"Like the fire that dragged them to hell, these Daemons will spread throughout the land and burn all of Ragunna."
Carlotta:
Unverifiable, yes, but not entirely dismissible. That said, a peculiar entity did indeed manifest, and it attacked you.
Carlotta:
So, let's start at the very beginning. I have a friend who's an expert in deciphering music. I believe you've met her before...
Carlotta:
She who resembles Topaz should still be near Whisperwind Haven at this hour.
Carlotta:
In her world, poetry and music hold equal sway... Shh, listen carefully...
Carlotta:
Follow the song to find her!
Carlotta then leads you to Ciaccona, who seems hesitant to involve you in the mystery. After some persuasion, she agrees to help. To uncover the truth, Ciaccona decides to play the melody once more.
Ciaccona:
Rover, Carlotta, it's been too long!
Carlotta:
You really must adore that song. I remember hearing you sing it when I was little.
Carlotta:
When I was a child, whenever I passed by Ciaccona's house, I'd always hear music drifting from the courtyard. Lively, spirited and so full of emotion...
Ciaccona:
Oh, I remember it well! Those two guards of yours were like giants from Septimont, easily two hundred pounds of pure muscle!
Carlotta:
Back then Ciaccona's family conducted the Order's choir.
Ciaccona:
How should I put it... Well, as they say, families are always rising and falling.
Ciaccona:
But a song is a song whether sung in a grand hall or beneath the open sky. As for family matters... let the past stay where it belongs.
Ciaccona:
Anyway, the two of you came in such a hurry. I suppose you're not here to take in the music.
Ciaccona:
Oh so... So you eavesdropped on a man rambling on in C3-sharp, and then poof, out pops a "monster"?
Ciaccona:
It is the point! I need to know what kind of music could possibly have the power to conjure up those "monsters" of yours.
Ciaccona:
The Golden Anthem... that name should never be spoken.
Ciaccona:
They're criminals. To conspire with them is to risk banishment at sea, or worse.
Carlotta:
Don't worry. This won't be the first time we've crossed paths with the Order.
Ciaccona:
...Fine.
Ciaccona:
From what you've told me, the composers of this poem cursed Rinascita spelling the fall of Ragunna.
Ciaccona:
When the poem is played some type of horror appears. If I understand correctly, that's what attacked you and Carlotta.
Ciaccona:
If you ask me this story is a right load of codswallop. I don't believe a simple little poem could curse Rinascita.
Carlotta:
Then you...
Ciaccona:
We need to get to the heart of this poem and music mystery. Let me join you. I can't resist a good adventure.
Ciaccona:
I'll help you find the link between the music and those Daemons. But in return, I want you to hand these pages to me for safekeeping.
Ciaccona:
Then we have a deal!
Ciaccona:
Since you believe this music summons them, how about we test it for ourselves? I've already memorized the sheet music.
Carlotta:
It's risky, but there's no surer way to find out, wouldn't you agree, Rover?
Ciaccona:
The final work of poets banished to distant seas and condemned to death...
Ciaccona:
What, I wonder, did the verses forged in flames truly sing of?
Carlotta:
They are... just like the ones that attacked us in the restaurant.
The Daemons reappear. After defeating them, Ciaccona draws closer, hoping to use her Forte to uncover the story hidden in the frequencies.
???:
They burned in despair, resentful of the Order's verdict till their last breath. Their last work is nothing but a curse upon us all!
???:
"With our bodies to fuel the fire, the ensuing inferno shall forge Ragunna's true gold." Is it saying Ragunna will burn to the ground??
???:
They wanted their resentment to echo through the streets... Just by reading this, I can almost see their terrifying faces in the fire!
Ciaccona:
These voices... they're people of Ragunna, aren't they? I think I heard Mr. C3-sharp in the mix.
Carlotta:
If the poets' resentful souls gave birth to Daemons, then shouldn't they sound like the poets themselves?
Carlotta:
Those voices were just people who read or heard their work...
Ciaccona:
Perhaps the voices themselves are what causes the Daemons to manifest.
Ciaccona:
In the legends, Daemons are born of death and curses.
Ciaccona:
But what we've seen isn't like that, no. They're more like horrors created from peoples' words and imagination.
Ciaccona:
Of course, I'm just speculating. The voices were somewhat muddled. Perhaps I can refine the melody. This time we need to listen harder.
Ciaccona:
Let's find out what the true story really is...
Ciaccona:
Music and poetry are born from kindness and hope... yet now they've been twisted to create these monstrosities...
Ciaccona:
Whoever is behind this won't just sit back and watch.
Ciaccona:
...The thought of confronting them is already inspiring me to write a ballad! What should I call it? Which instruments would fit...
Carlotta:
Our enemy hides in the dark, while we remain in the light. If that's the case...
Carlotta:
We need to split up. With your tenacity and Ciaccona's expertise, we will uncover the truth.
Carlotta:
Someone has pointed a gun at Cat's Eye. Someone ought to pull back the curtain and expose them.
Carlotta:
The family has its ways. Tracing the article's source and finding this mastermind won't be a problem.
Ciaccona:
If we find the Melody connected to the Poets Society, I can bring the past into clearer focus...
Ciaccona:
I've got it, Rover. I know a place where they've definitely left their mark.
Ciaccona:
Let's go! Onward, to new melodies!
To learn more, you need more melodies. Ciaccona takes you to a moonlit shore, a place where Ragunna's poets and musicians are known to bury their instruments. There, you might find new clues.
Ciaccona:
Ta-da! Welcome to Requiem Paradise!
Ciaccona:
This is where Ragunna's musicians lay their old instruments to rest.
Ciaccona:
For the people of Ragunna, the sea is everything. We live and sleep by the sea, and our souls drift out to sea when we pass.
Ciaccona:
Since an instrument is an extension of the musician, it's only fitting that it's buried by the sea. May its dreams be long and sweet before returning to the waves.
Ciaccona:
I'm certain this is where the poets of the Golden Anthem laid their instruments to rest before their banishment.
Ciaccona:
What's wrong? You seem troubled.
Ciaccona:
Is that what's been on your mind this whole time? I say, if the answers aren't coming, let it all go and clear your mind.
Ciaccona:
To be honest... I haven't found any leads either. But worry not, this is what we bards call a "bottleneck."
Ciaccona:
Once, I spent three days just trying to find the right words to describe a tree... couldn't do it. Not one word.
Ciaccona:
So I stood under that tree and prayed for an apple to fall on my head.
Ciaccona:
You know, just like in those stories where inspiration strikes after an apple hits you. And, well... at least you'd get a snack out of it.
Ciaccona:
Sadly, the apples weren't ripe and none fell. No free nibbles for me, unfortunately.
Ciaccona:
Try it!
Rover:
It's a real apple...
Ciaccona:
Later, when I finally decided to leave, I looked up through the gaps in the branches and suddenly saw a blooming flower atop a cliff.
Ciaccona:
Turns out, even without an apple, inspiration may yet strike. But if I hadn't stood there, I might've missed that unexpected burst of beauty.
Ciaccona:
So… maybe this is enough. Let's put aside heavy thoughts and continue our walk with a clear mind.
Rover:
I'm starting to understand why Carlotta calls you "Topaz".
Ciaccona:
Is that so? But I'm nowhere near as dazzling as the sun. If anything, I'd rather be like Icarus in the story.
Ciaccona:
Soaring freely in the sky, even if it means... falling in the end.
Ciaccona:
It seems this lute likely belonged to a member of the Poets Society.
Ciaccona:
Which is to say, it holds the melodies they left behind...
You discover the instruments of the Poets Society, and Ciaccona decides to use it to recreate the past.
Ciaccona:
The timbre also matches... I believe this lute is exactly what we've been looking for.
Ciaccona:
Sometimes, even when the instruments are the same, the performer's mood can change the entire sound.
Ciaccona:
For example, this lute doesn't seek to boast. It speaks softly, like a traveler sharing a story over tea in the warmth of an afternoon.
Ciaccona:
The true purpose of music is to express what words cannot.
Ciaccona:
Rover, if there's something you want to say but can't put into words, if you sing it, maybe I'll understand.
Rover:
But I haven't even heard you sing yet.
Ciaccona:
Me? Oh, perhaps another time. Once all this is settled, I'll perform for you. Be sure to listen closely then!
Ciaccona:
Now, it's in the lute's hands. I hope this melody holds a tale worth telling.
Ciaccona:
I sense the melody of an instrument close by. Let's search for it.
Ciaccona:
♪~
Choir: Myron:
Have you found her yet?
Choir: Patero:
No...
Choir: Shia:
She's not here either... Greetings, {Male=Brother and Sister;Female=Sisters}!
Choir: Shia:
Um, might-might I ask, have you seen someone dressed like us who likes to walk with her head down...?
Choir: Patero:
No, no, Raisa doesn't like walking with her head down. She must've gotten into some trouble!
Choir: Myron:
We are in the Order's choir. We're rehearsing hymns to sing at the ceremony.
Choir: Myron:
Raisa is our lead chorister. We took a break from rehearsing to play hide and seek, but when the time ran out, we couldn't find her.
Choir: Patero:
Maybe she got mad at us because we sang badly... She hasn't smiled at us much since rehearsals started.
Ciaccona:
Can you tell your big sister here what hymn you're rehearsing？
Choir: Shia:
The teacher says it's a hymn to honor the brave knights and the Sentinel's guidance.
Choir: Shia:
But Raisa says the hymn was written by a bunch of criminals.
You and Ciaccona realize that these criminals are in fact members of the Golden Anthem.
Ciaccona:
Well... which way did Raisa go? We can help you look for her.
Choir: Myron:
Really? She went that way!
Along the way, you meet Raisa, who is becoming increasingly concerned about the Poets Society's past works. You and Ciaccona try to help her regain her confidence.
Ciaccona:
Such a beautiful voice, isn't it?
Choir: Raisa:
You... You're the Laureate! And-and you are...?
Ciaccona:
My name is Ciaccona, a—
Rover:
—a friend of mine.
Ciaccona:
Don't be scared. We're only here so that you can finish your game of hide and seek.
Choir: Raisa:
Hide and seek... right. Myron and the others are waiting for me. Sorry, I’ve caused you trouble...
Ciaccona:
How-how about a little chat first? Something's troubling you, I can tell.
Choir: Raisa:
What? Of course not. The ceremony is coming up and the choir still has so much to rehearse. I-I'm fine...
Ciaccona:
Ah, young ones today have so much talent... If I had the chance, I'd love to learn how to sing hymns.
Ciaccona:
You know, our Laureate here definitely knows how to sing hymns.
Choir: Raisa:
It's just... before the performance, the choir has to listen to the same music, recite the same lyrics, and do the same rehearsals every day.
Choir: Raisa:
What's more, the hymn we're practicing... it was composed by bad people. Teacher calls them "heretic poets."
Choir: Raisa:
Myron and the others never complain. They're always eager to sing praises to the Sentinel on stage.
Choir: Raisa:
But now, their dreams are all dashed because of me. Myron, Patero, and Shia's voices are in perfect harmony. But I can never keep up.
Choir: Raisa:
And I don't like this hymn. Myron and the others are too young to realize that heresy is a grave offense... But I know...
Choir: Raisa:
I-I just don't understand why the Order wants us to sing songs written by criminals.
Choir: Raisa:
The more I thought about it, the more out of rhythm I became. In the end, I could barely sing at all.
Choir: Raisa:
That song just now? I... I've already forgotten how it's supposed to sound.
Ciaccona:
Well... what do you think a hymn should sound like?
Choir: Raisa:
A hymn... as the books state, is a song of praise for the Sentinel who leads the lost to the abundant lands...
Ciaccona:
No, not that... I mean, how does it make you feel? Try to remember what you were feeling when you were singing alone in the corner just now.
Choir: Raisa:
Oh... um... I didn't want to hold everyone back, and I really wanted to help everyone have a great performance at the ceremony.
Ciaccona:
Then hold onto that feeling. Let's rehearse again! You don't have anyone sitting in on your rehearsals, do you?
Choir: Raisa:
Huh? No...
Ciaccona:
Well then, the Laureate and I will be the first to hear you perform!
Ciaccona:
Oh, what splendid singing. Even the Laureate was enraptured!
Choir: Shia:
Raisa did wonderfully!
Choir: Raisa:
Thanks to you, I've figured it out.
Choir: Raisa:
Sincerity is what truly matters when we pray and sing praises to the Sentinel.
Ciaccona:
Yes, a hymn isn't just a few lines of history. It is shaped by your feelings and experiences.
Ciaccona:
A hymn may differ in each person's eyes, but its resonance and meaning are universal.
Ciaccona:
I hope you'll give the audience a spectacular performance on the day of the ceremony.
Chorister Raisa leaves to rehearse with the other children. After she leaves, Ciaccona starts asking you questions about what you saw in the melody.
After returning from the Realm of Melodies, you share what you've learned with Ciaccona. You realize that the key to understanding the Poets Society's change of attitude might lie in their time in the Cathedral, a turning point that led them to seek the truth and resist the Order's deception.
Ciaccona:
So... what did you see in Raisa's melody?
Rover:
The Poets Society was criticized for glorifying the knights over the common folk during one of their hymn performances.
Rover:
Their assumptions were challenged, so they traveled to the knight's encampment at Whisperwind Haven to verify the truth for themselves.
Ciaccona:
This incident may have been the turning point for the Poets Society. Did you find any other clues?
Ciaccona:
If the Order's choir is pointing us to Whisperwind Haven, then that's where we'll find more clues. Let's go.
Ciaccona:
I've heard of these knights during my travels. This should be where their old encampment stood.
Ciaccona:
But there don't seem to be any instruments, poems, or music here that carry the memory of a melody. Let's try searching the area first.
Ciaccona:
These "Bonfire Poets" were no doubt members of the Poets Society. The note says they had wandered the area looking for inspiration.
Ciaccona:
To find their melody, we should try to follow the route they once took.
Ciaccona:
Perhaps inspiration will strike us along the way!
You find something that carries the melody—the wind. The wind is everlasting, recording and bringing back the Poets Society's melodies. Adopting the Poets Society's mindset, Ciaccona plays the melody once more, and the Society members' voices ring again.
Ciaccona:
This was the last stop on their route. Oh, the view just now as we soared in the sky was just breathtaking!
Ciaccona:
What is it? Has anything come to mind?
Ciaccona:
Oh yes, how did I miss that. The wind is the finest recorder of melodies.
Ciaccona:
It rises from the primal, churning endlessly, echoing in our ears without end. I believe the melodies left by the Poets Society were witnessed by the wind, and it will carry them to us.
Ciaccona:
Playing a tune, of course. I want to capture the mood they must have felt when they were here... I'm curious as to what they left behind.
Ciaccona plays her instrument. The wind stirs, and the melody of the Poets Society fills the air.
Faroll:
Rimbaud and Selena must have returned to Ragunna by now. That lithograph of the Sentinel's true form… it has to be here somewhere.
Faroll:
Did that gentleman guide us intentionally? Who exactly was he...
Faroll:
Backpack stuffed with papers, claiming to be a common artist traveling in search of inspiration.
Faroll:
Yet he spoke like a nobleman... But I can't afford to think about that now.
Faroll:
If not for his help, we'd still be singing praises to a false Sentinel!
Faroll:
He's right. We cannot continue to sing for the Order anymore.
Faroll:
We must enlighten the people of Ragunna. They deserve to know the truth.
Faroll:
The knights of the Order defend only the Order's interests, and so... the time has come for us to become knights for the people of Ragunna.
The members hid a lithograph here. They were actually guided by a mysterious figure, but there's no time to investigate who they are now. What's most important is returning to the restaurant to change the public's view of the "Golden Anthem."
Ciaccona:
Is this form of the Sentinel the same as the one you saw at Avinoleum, Rover?
The majestic steed carved on the lithograph looks the same as the Sentinel you saw before.
Ciaccona:
So the poets were indeed banished for uncovering the Order's secrets.
Ciaccona:
Even under interrogation, they held their silence. It wasn't until they met this mysterious man and learned the truth that they chose to become "Knights of Ragunna."
Ciaccona:
Resentment and curses are not songs of their own style. As for the true mastermind, we still have no direct proof linking him to the Order.
Ciaccona:
We must confront his lies and put an end to these Daemon incidents...
Ciaccona:
But once the truth of the Golden Anthem and Imperator is revealed, it will no longer be just a matter of Daemons... But... is now the right time?
Rover:
The will of the people is strong. This mastermind is so sure that the lies about the Sentinel will go undiscovered, and that no one will easily believe the truth.
Rover:
The truth exists to be uncovered. All we need is to plant the seeds of doubt in the people's hearts and let them take root and grow.
Ciaccona:
Yes... Let's get going then.
Ciaccona:
We'll go back to Margherita's. It's where our story began... and it's where it must end.
Ciaccona:
It seems someone told the poets the truth about the Sentinel, and even suggested they stop singing solely for Divinity and begin singing for the common folk as well.
Ciaccona:
On the surface, what our "mystery man" said makes perfect sense. He even has knowledge of Imperator's true form.
Ciaccona:
And this hidden lithograph is evidence the poets were telling the truth...
Ciaccona:
Ms. Margherita!
Margherita:
Well, hello, hello! If it isn't Rover and Ciaccona!
Margherita:
Oh, Miss Ciaccona is a regular around here, you know. I've even asked her to perform a few times. Helps bring in the crowds!
Ciaccona:
Actually, I've come to ask a favor of you today, Ms. Margherita. I'm sure you've heard the rumors circulating lately...
Ciaccona:
About the Poets Society's legacy. There's something important we'd like to share. Could you help us gather everyone?
Margherita:
Not a problem at all! Did you make any big discoveries? I'm so curious about what actually happened. It's driving me nuts!
Margherita agrees to your request and begins to gather an impressive crowd...
As you finish your interpretation, the crowd in the restaurant grows restless, many surrounding you with questions. While you and Ciaccona are separated in the crowd, and Cristoforo appears next to Ciaccona, telling a story about a caged bird, as if hinting at something deeper.
Onlookers:
Laureate, is this all real? What do you mean by the truth? Did you discover something?
Onlookers:
The poets of the Golden Anthem, they...
Cristoforo:
A fascinating story indeed! You've certainly piqued everyone's curiosity.
Cristoforo:
This speech you made just now... You're implying the poets of the Golden Anthem were framed and their works deliberately misinterpreted?
Ciaccona:
Exactly. Someone used the story of the Golden Anthem to stir the public's curiosity. This is what created the Daemons.
Cristoforo:
If memory serves, official records of the Order of the Deep state the poets were charged with blasphemy against the Sentinel.
Cristoforo:
Surely you're not suggesting this was all the Order's doing? I dare say... such remarks would be considered a grave crime punishable by banishment.
Ciaccona:
Are you from a noble family? The city's elite have a habit of siding with the Order.
Cristoforo:
Haha, I'm afraid you misunderstand... I admit I do get that question quite often. I am but a traveling playwright.
Cristoforo:
Your presentation brings me back to a play I wrote in my youth.
Cristoforo:
A group of birds locked inside a cage. Convinced they will never fly, they do nothing but stand on a perch.
Cristoforo:
Then one day, the cage door opened. The young birds flapped their fragile wings attempting to fly, but plummeted to the ground one by one.
Cristoforo:
Many consider their fate a tragic one. What say you?
Ciaccona:
...I see it differently.
Ciaccona:
Even if they met their end falling into the abyss, they still had a chance to glimpse the sky and spread their wings.
Cristoforo:
And what of those who chose to remain in the cage, having witnessed their predecessors fall to their demise?
Cristoforo:
Will they still dare to reach for the skies after realizing the cost of choosing to fly? Does the "truth" exist to protect, or to harm? That is the question.
Cristoforo:
Miss Poet... I look forward to tomorrow's arrival.
Carlotta greets you and shares that, through tracking the article's origin, she has uncovered some new leads. Just as you are about to share everything with Ciaccona, she disappears without a word. Carlotta sighs that Ciaccona has never changed since childhood, always vanishing without a word.
Carlotta:
A splendid retaliation. I witnessed all of your performance!
Carlotta:
Like everyone present, I too eagerly anticipate tomorrow's arrival.
Carlotta:
As expected, the Order's fingerprints are all over it. According to our inside sources...
Carlotta:
It was none other than Acolytes from the Order who salvaged the poets' lost works from the wreckage. They've long known of their existence and hid the poems in the Order's library.
Carlotta:
It's possible this was a sham all along. Choosing to make it public now likely means they're using those poems to obscure the real truth.
Carlotta:
Now, considering the fact that the untraceable article first began circulating among poets, musicians, and playwrights alike...
Carlotta:
I think it's fair to say its author is a regular of such secret circles. He may even be the Resonator we've speculated about.
Carlotta:
His collusion with the Order is why these rumors are allowed to run rampant in the streets.
Carlotta:
I'll have someone follow this secret circle's trail and see what we can find.
Carlotta:
We should also share these findings with Ciaccona. As a poet, her insights would be much appreciated.
You search around but find no sign of Ciaccona.
Rover:
That's strange, she was just there a moment ago.
Carlotta:
...Just like when we were children. Gone without a trace.
Carlotta:
When she and her family disappeared without even a goodbye.
Carlotta:
Ms. Margherita, have you seen Ciaccona?
Margherita:
Ms. Ciaccona... Hmm, she was squirreling off towards the harbor earlier. I thought that's where you were meeting, so I didn't say a word.
Margherita:
She did look quite down, though. Never seen her wear such a gloomy face before.
Carlotta:
Thank you for letting us know, Ms. Margherita.
Rover:
Why don't we split up and look for her at the harbor?
You and Ciaccona take your place on an impromptu "stage," the curtain poised to rise.
Ciaccona:
Rover, we'll begin when you're ready.
Cristoforo's words echo in Ciaccona's mind. As she walks toward the harbor, memories of the Poets Society and her own past resurface. She now understands what Cristoforo meant—if the truth is revealed, the past tragedies may be doomed to repeat themselves.
Earlier before, Ciaccona walked to the harbor...
Cristoforo:
The young birds left their cage, flapping frail wings as they fell to the ground.
Ciaccona:
I never thought his words would reach into the depths I sealed away so long ago.
Cristoforo:
Coming here implies you worry about tomorrow's outcome.
Cristoforo:
You intend to reveal the truth of the Sentinel to the public. But that revelation... it comes with a price. One you've paid before, as a child. Remember?
Ciaccona:
This is... the past.
Acolyte Interrogator:
And here I thought you'd be much wiser than this.
Acolyte Interrogator:
You know the dangers of pilgrimage, yet you all still cling to the same reckless path. Tell me, what drives such stubbornness?
Cristoforo:
The truth has its thorns, and the Golden Anthem has already paid its price. Do you wish to relive their fate?
Ciaccona:
Is that what you're trying to tell me with your play...? But you know nothing of how the Golden Anthem responded.
Faroll:
Allow me to share the answer, Sir Acolyte. Do you remember the very first voice from the heavens? The one the people of Rinascita kept alive in their hearts as they built their homes on this land?
Faroll:
Surely you've seen The Golden Bough, yes? A play where people from various clans wear masks, singing and celebrating together. An occasion you now call... "Carnevale."
Acolyte Interrogator:
And? What of it?
Faroll:
It is words and songs. We are not your enemies. What you face here is something that is hard to describe, something I call "Reverberation."
Faroll:
It exists forever, and you can never defeat it.
Acolyte Interrogator:
Hmph. You pitiful fool. Off to the seas with that "Reverberation" you believe in so dearly.
Faroll:
The Order of the Deep seeks to banish us to the seas because they know they can't banish the truth...
Ciaccona:
Hear that? The bell they tolled... I will be the one to carry its sound forward.
Middle-aged Acolyte Interrogator:
Oh, the parallels... so striking. Just like the day the Poets Society boarded their Sail. You, Ciaccona Toccata, blaspheming against the Sentinel.
Middle-aged Acolyte Interrogator:
Ha! So this is the resonance they babbled on about? After all these years, another group of fools is ready to march down the same path.
Middle-aged Acolyte Interrogator:
Why are there always those who believe the Sentinel is some damn horse?
Middle-aged Acolyte Interrogator:
The poets were at least clever enough to hold their tongues. But you have the nerve to parade your blasphemy through the streets. It almost makes those poets look noble by comparison.
Ciaccona (past):
Is that so, Sir Acolyte? I do hope you dream of this "Sentinel" of yours every night then.
Middle-aged Acolyte Interrogator:
Spare me your sarcasm, you insolent bard! You're nothing but a mouthy relic, the last of what remains of your wretched family! Do you not repent for your crimes?!
Cristoforo:
Ah, so you've already tasted their fate, haven't you? You and your family, banished in the name of... blasphemy!
Cristoforo:
Such a dramatic turn of events! As cantors of the Sentinel, both the Toccata family and the Poets Society committed the same crime. Tell me, what is the connection between you and those poets?
Ciaccona:
You're nothing but a figment of my imagination. None of this concerns you. It was a price we were willing to pay. We have no regrets.
Ciaccona:
When I was a child, I lacked the ability to prove the Sentinel's true form. But now, with the Inverted Tower shifting and the prophesied Laureate among us...
Ciaccona:
I believe the opportunity has presented itself for the truth to be—
Cristoforo:
Opportunity. Indeed... The moment of choice dawns once more.
Cristoforo:
Do you intend to repeat history? This time, dragging Rover along with you? Boarding the Pilgrim's Sail and clinging to hope as the storm carries you away.
Cristoforo:
Isn't this what you're afraid of?
Cristoforo:
You've unraveled the hand behind it all... but the Order will never allow such truths to see the light.
Cristoforo:
Rover, Ms. Carlotta, and all those you've gathered along the way will be forced to bear the consequences of your quest for the truth.
Cristoforo:
And perhaps even that... "Blessed Maiden" whose whereabouts remain a mystery to this day.
Cristoforo:
Even so, will you two still insist on stepping onto that stage tomorrow?
Cristoforo:
Have you really made your choice? I look forward to the arrival of tomorrow, Miss Poet.
Rover:
Is this Ciaccona's sheet music? She was here.
Rover:
The vision I just saw seems to have been recorded from this...
Rover:
Ciaccona mentioned she always writes down her melodies on manuscript paper. Could this be...?
Rover:
The Golden Anthem...
Ciaccona joins you in returning to Ragunna City, where, as planned, you will make your final revelation. However, your actions have drawn the attention of the Order, and the Acolytes are closing in on you.
Ciaccona:
As the forgotten songs rise once more, a tale of the past I shall tell...
Ciaccona:
This is the story of those who were accused of blasphemy.
Ciaccona:
They were once poets, singing songs for the Divinity and the Order. This is how their music became known to all.
Ciaccona:
Until one day, they stumbled upon a "truth" that could not be proven.
Ciaccona:
The Sentinel, whom we've always revered, is not what They seem.
Ciaccona:
The true Divinity granting us blessings is a majestic Celestial Steed that gallops across the high seas and soars through the skies.
Ciaccona:
And the teachings in our scriptures? Lies. Lies told to us by the Order.
Ciaccona:
Ask yourselves this. Why would Imperator, who once sent Rinascita voices from the heavens, allow Their people to suffer aboard those Pilgrim's Sails?
Ciaccona:
How could poets who once sang the praises of the Sentinel come to curse and resent Rinascita, a land they loved so much?
Ciaccona:
People of Rinascita!
Ciaccona:
Have you ever wondered why the Order forbids us from seeing their earliest scriptures?
Ciaccona:
Why did none of the Fools that boarded the Pilgrim's Sail ever thank the Sentinel?
Ciaccona:
Imperator and Ragunna have always stood united, yet lately... they seem to have vanished from our dreams. Why is that?
Acolyte:
Ciaccona Toccata, in the name of Imperator and Primus Fenrico, you are hereby under arrest. You will face the full weight of the law at the Order Penitentiary.
Ciaccona:
Is that so? And what are the charges this time, if I may ask?
Acolyte:
Blasphemy!
Ciaccona:
Oh? The same old tricks again. Is this how the Order intends to keep the truth hidden?
Acolyte:
Hmph. Save your empty words for your confession to the Sentinel.
Acolyte:
Damnation! She's not working alone!
Ciaccona:
Farewell, Sir Acolyte. Oh, and just a little tip for you. Keep your eyes on the audience below.
Ciaccona:
Let's see how much of the Order's hypocrisy these "empty words" can unveil...
Ciaccona:
I have faith the music of the Golden Anthem will one day echo across Ragunna's skies again!
Once the performance is over, Ciaccona warns you to watch out for a playwright in the city. Being wanted as a criminal, she will soon need to run again. This is your farewell, though not the last time you will meet.
Ciaccona:
Do you feel it? The breeze from Whisperwind Haven. You can even catch the faint scent of wet grass.
Ciaccona:
Next thing you know, maybe an apple will fall on our heads. Or maybe a big gray wolf will leap out and chase a squirrel down a rabbit hole...
Ciaccona:
Thank you, Rover.
Ciaccona:
I don't have the Blessed Maiden's miracles, nor the powers of a hero. I'm just a wandering bard.
Ciaccona:
The only thing I can offer is to immortalize this moment. I will carry all the stories about you with me...
Ciaccona:
By the way, I met a man at Margherita's who claims to be a playwright. You should watch out for him!
Ciaccona:
I'm not entirely sure who he really is... But my guess is that he might be the Resonator who's been working with the Order.
Ciaccona:
Here, you can have this music sheet! I'm heading off on a new mission!
Ciaccona:
An escape mission! Starting today, I'm no longer just a wandering bard. I've got the Order hunting me now! A journey like this? It's begging to be written into a story.
Ciaccona:
Don't you worry! I still remember our promise.
Ciaccona:
About the song I wrote you... We will meet again, and I'll sing it for you, I swear!
Ciaccona:
After all, we're partners in crime now!
"Ciaccona":
This room...
Faroll:
Is our final stage.
Faroll:
Now, it's your turn to step onto it.
Rimbaud:
"You will witness a different world."
Angry Listener:
You arrogant hypocrits!
Selena:
Led by curiosity and wonder, you step forward.
"Ciaccona":
I am the gentle sea breeze,
"Ciaccona":
Sweeping through Whisperwind Haven and towards Ragunna's high walls.
Acolyte Interrogator:
Well, have you decided on your answer?
Acolyte Interrogator:
I look forward to the public trial.
Faroll:
Perhaps our fates are not so different after all.
Acolyte Interrogator:
It is time, sinner against the Sentinel!
Rover:
But you...
Ciaccona:
I will continue to sing.
Rover:
As long as there are those who breathe and see.
Ciaccona:
My eternal summer will never fade.
After escaping the city, Ciaccona is still filled with excitement for finally revealing the truth. You stop for a moment, and in her emotional state, she plays a song for you.
Ciaccona:
Phew...
Ciaccona:
A masked hero suddenly appeared, rescuing the bard right when she was about to be apprehended by the Order.
Ciaccona:
But that's a story for another time.
Ciaccona:
You know what this means for you, right?
Ciaccona:
Even with a mask on, people will still recognize the Laureate.
Ciaccona:
I'm now a wanted criminal by the Order.
Ciaccona:
Hahaha...
Ciaccona:
Now this is what a real poet... No, wait, a real knight is supposed to be!
Ciaccona:
Well then...
At the Cathedral of Mercury, Cristoforo reveals Fenrico's plan. In the confrontation, Fenrico suspect that Crisroforo was the one who secretly guided the Poets Society all those years ago.
Cristoforo:
My Lord Primus, it seems your plan has not gone quite as you'd hoped.
Cristoforo:
You sought to revive the blasphemous Poets Society, spreading their legacy to stoke the fires of prejudice. And through my aid, summon Daemons to sow fear across Ragunna City...
Fenrico:
I care not for labels of good or evil. My only care is Ragunna's order and chaos.
Fenrico:
Fear... is but one tool among many to maintain stability.
Cristoforo:
Ah! Truly the words of one in possession of great power! Such lines are rare even in plays.
Cristoforo:
And yet... why do you seem so restless, Lord Fenrico? This is hardly the character I expected from you.
Cristoforo:
Is it that foreign Laureate that unsettles you so? Or perhaps that insignificant Toccata girl?
Cristoforo:
Or is it... something else you seek?
Fenrico:
Out of respect for our partnership, some things are better left unsaid.
Cristoforo:
Of course. As you will, Lord Fenrico.
Fenrico:
Wait... You were the one who led the Poets Society to that lithograph, weren't you?
Fenrico:
I've heard whispers of your presence at Whisperwind Haven around that time. Whenever you were asked, you claimed to be seeking inspiration.
Fenrico:
Why are you doing this?
Cristoforo:
As you've said yourself, out of respect for our partnership, some things... are better left unsaid.
Cristoforo:
There was no deception. Indeed, I was seeking inspiration. In the end... I found a story about birds in a cage.
Cristoforo:
The birds, having uncovered the truth, must decide—will they choose to fly into the unknown, or remain caged within the familiar?
Cristoforo:
Ah, Lord Fenrico, a word of reminder...
Cristoforo:
Just as the young Toccata mentioned, how long has it been since you last dreamed of your true "Divinity"?
Cristoforo:
Armed with a wooden spear and a broken helmet, the knight charged at the windmill...
Cristoforo:
His squire, ever loyal, trailed close behind as if becoming one with the knight. Together they charged again and again, true knights in spirit, ignoring the countless wounds they bore.
Cristoforo:
Truly astonishing... Even if you took such a script, what could you possibly accomplish, "Hecate"?
Ciaccona:
Let's pick up where we left off. What stories lie within these melodies?
Cristoforo:
So Miss Poet. Have you made your decision?
"Ciaccona":
This... is a poem I've never seen before. It's so different from what they used to write.
"Ciaccona":
"Do not place flowers on my tomb, for I do not rest beneath the stone."
"Ciaccona":
"I am the sea wind at Ragunna's walls. I am a dawn that breaks through thorns."
"Ciaccona":
"I am a night hawk of wings aflame, soaring towards the Celestial Steed, whose praises I sing and whose true form I behold."
Rover:
I know what you're thinking. You're worried I might end up on the same path you did.
Rover:
Go on.
Rover:
Follow your heart. I'll be with you till the end.
Ciaccona:
A penniless bard and the Laureate roving in a foreign land. Together, we rise up against the Order of the Deep itself...
Ciaccona:
But as long as the seeds of doubt are planted, the kindling in Ragunna will eventually ignite to forge its true gold.
Ciaccona:
There. Now how's that for a story worth telling?
Ciaccona:
Ah! Speaking of which... Have you ever read that novel? It's about a knight on a quest to challenge a giant in the name of justice.
Ciaccona:
The knight is also accompanied by a squire. Time after time, they throw themselves at the seemingly invincible giant!
Ciaccona:
I am no Montelli, Acolyte of the Order of the Deep, or Knight of Ragunna...
Ciaccona:
But still, I shall lead the charge! Ya-hoo! Mount up, Sir Knight! To battle we go!
Rover:
This song... it's the one she performed last time.
Rover:
The melody is the same, but why does it sound so sad this time?
Ciaccona:
Rover, Rover! Are you alright?
Ciaccona:
Finally, I got you out of there! You must've been drawn into a different melody on our way out.
Rover:
I just walked into a study and ran into a strange little girl. She seemed quite taken with the Poets Society's work.
Rover:
She mentioned a name—Ciaccona Toccata
Ciaccona:
I see...
Ciaccona:
I don't know who you met, but Toccata is my family name.
Ciaccona:
As I said before... for family matters, let the past stay where it belongs.
Ciaccona:
Just call me Ciaccona! We don't need to overcomplicate things.
Ciaccona:
Hm. Well, we have made some progress. The melody we were in gave me a hint on what to do next.
Ciaccona:
Yes. Seeing as they banished the Golden Anthem, we might find more clues in the Cathedral of Mercury.
Ciaccona:
A flute... but it sounds sharp and harsh. If this were a performance...
Ciaccona:
I'd say it's trying to finish as quickly as possible, barely giving the notes a chance to breathe.
Ciaccona:
...A harp. It's in excellent condition, but its tone is flat and dull. Let's keep it for now and see if there are any other instruments nearby.
Ciaccona:
Is that a lute...
Ciaccona:
Its echoes are faint. Perhaps because it's been abandoned longer than the previous two. I'll need some time to decipher it.
Ciaccona:
Wait, the sound may be weak, but there's an undeniable strength to it...
Ciaccona:
Rover, behind you!
Ciaccona:
I really admire the wind. It's free to go anywhere without restraint. If only it could carry my poems into the hands of everyone across the world.