Silent Crown

by Feng Yue

  “Stop joking.” Ye Qingxuan had made himself laugh. After reading through the last record, his gaze fell on a line in the middle of the analysis, “After investigation and research, we have reason to believe that the Ripper is somehow related to the Shadow of Avalon.”

  Suddenly remembering Bai Xi’s cards, Ye Qingxuan was stunned. One of the ghost cards had a deserted palace! The Shadow of Avalon was one of this city’s well-known horror stories.

  The legends said that there was a city sleeping in Avalon’s shadow. The dead, and souls of demons slept in that shadowy city, hiding secrets from the Dark Ages. Some said that that was the true Avalon, but that was just a made-up story. Why would it appear in the report by the police force? Unless there was some truth to it…

  Ye Qingxuan fell into deep thought before hurriedly closing the book. Remembering the other cases mentioned, he walked to the other end of the bookshelf. If he were not mistaken, there would be more clues hidden in that shelf. Suddenly, it was as if he had crossed an invisible and forbidden line. A chill ran through his body.

  —

  In the silence, the lights dimmed, and started flickering. A sudden wind blew through the sealed library. Faint wailing sounded in the wind. Ye Qingxuan gazed around in a daze, sensing that something was seriously wrong. He tried to step forward, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was no one behind him, but he could hear light footsteps. The steps were so gentle in the silence, as if someone invisible was walking behind him, following his every step, leaving no trace behind.

  Fifteen steps away from the bookshelf, he stopped. The footsteps shadowing him were right behind him. He could even feel cold breath brushing against his neck. This was the end. Some entity in this large library uttered its last warning, “You are attempting to solve a mystery you should never have touched.”

  Ye Qingxuan froze in place and raised his arms in surrender. “Sorry, I just wanted to find the academy’s personnel files…” He stepped back, showing that he did not mean to pass into the danger zone.

  After a long while, the eerie coldness finally disappeared. Sweating profusely, Ye Qingxuan turned back. As before, there was nothing behind him under the dim light, but it was the first time he had been comforted by the vast emptiness.

  Everything had returned to normal, but there was a faint trail of footprints on the floor. As if it were a guide, it stopped before one bookshelf. A row of books on the shelf had been pushed out half an inch. It seemed to say, “What you’re looking for is here.”

  91 Death of Moon Chan

  The previous night, a flock of birds had flown when the clock struck midnight. One bird cut across the night sky of foggy Avalon, flying under the stars. It was a raven—a white raven. It had been a moonless night, the moon hidden behind black clouds. The only light came from the stars speckled in the night sky.

  The white raven flew in the fog, circling above the sleeping city, looking down on the music and torches of the city. When the clock struck, it flew toward the clock tower soundlessly, landing on the tip of one of the clocks hands.

  At midnight, the clock’s hand pointed up at the sky like a blade. The white raven gazed about and finally flew past the window and gears, then entered the dark clock tower.

  A single candle flickered soundlessly, illuminating the dusty tower. The glimmer of countless emeralds lit up in the darkness. They were actually the candle’s reflection in the beasts’ eyes, the eerie pupils of the predators. Their pure green eyes were full of coldness, and their gazes scanned across the room, studying each other as their heart beats hastened.

  At some point, the small room had filled with dozens of birds. They were all different types. Some were black vultures, others were gray seabirds, and there was also a giant pelican. Its long beak hung low as if it were laughing, but there was no mirth in its eyes. Instead, the eyes were silent and dark.

  Seeing the white raven, the pelican opened its beak and spoke, “Gentlemen, I’m sure you all know why I have called you here today, so let us get straight to it.”

  “Of course.”

  “Is the investigation report out?”

  “I don’t want to waste time either.”

  The flock of birds all began speaking in human languages. If someone were there, they probably would have been terrified. But to a musician, it meant something else. These birds were not real, but were puppets made from aether. They were dead objects—detailed but cold. The birds flew and spoke, manipulated by people far away. They did this to hide their identity, or because they worried others might discover the meeting. Though they were puppets, they were intricately made, and emanated the opulence of the elites. When they spoke, their frustrated tones sounded like a chorale.

  When the birds quieted down, the pelican looked around. In a voice hoarse like an old man, he said, “A strange phenomenon occurred downtown a few days ago. I believe everyone has heard of it.” He paused, his voice reminding everyone of the event that had led to many sleepless nights.

  “The Moon Above the Ocean. According to investigation, it was created by the resonance between a musician’s Symphony of Predestination and the world, disrupting reality…Yes, you are right to worry because he might have returned.” As soon as he finished, the other birds erupted into chaos. Some angrily questioned him, some fell silent in shock, and others questioned every detail, trying to refute the possibility. The only thing they all had in common was the undisguisable fear in their voices.

  “Enough!” The pelican raised its voice, silencing everyone. He waited until they fell silent before he opened his beak to speak again. “In regards to the phenomenon, we have used many connections to find its origin. Sadly, we have no results. Everyone there turned into lunatics, and the survivors are now in the Arkham Asylum. They may never recover. The dead have already been taken by the Royal Institute of Research. That is the crazy Newton’s territory, and we cannot interfere. All evidence had been destroyed at the site, leaving nothing behind. But the phenomenon seemed to have been done on purpose…”

  “He’s sending a message,” the vulture muttered angrily as if through clenched teeth. “He wanted us to see it!”

  The owl’s eyes were dark. “That’s right. He wants to tell us that he’s back!”

  “His arrogance! Can he fight against the entire Anglo Empire?”

  “He’s dreaming!”

  “But…”

  “Enough, what are we arguing about? Is now the time to argue amongst yourselves?”

  “What, are you scared?”

  It sounded just like a flock of birds cawing, but in actuality, there were different voices arguing. They were old and young, panicked and angered. Every bird looked back at the one in the corner. “White raven, you promised us that he was already dead.”

  Even in the sudden silence and under the interrogation of his friends, the white raven was as calm as ever. He watched their eyes quietly and waited for them to calm down before he said coolly, “He truly is dead.”

  As if igniting something, the birds exploded in anger.

  “Lies!”

  “Raven, I’m sick of your lies!”

  “Then explain what happened!”

  “There is only one person in the entire world who could create something like that with his Symphony of Predestination—only one!”

  “—Moon Chant.” In the commotion, no one knew who had uttered the name that seemed to represent disaster. Silence fell over the room. Shaken by the seemingly graceful name, their eyes gazed around helplessly.

  In the silence, the pelican spread its wings, pushing down the panic in everyone’s eyes. He said, “When he fled, he destroyed all of his own records. Nobody today can remember what he looks like. Are you sure you didn’t kill the wrong person?”

  The owl beside him added, “And it’s not uncommon for a musician to return his soul to another body.”

  “I’ve heard that some musicians can turn into rats…”

  The vulture said, “It’s not impossi
ble for him to have escaped.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard that musicians can crawl out of their graves after death…” The birds lapsed into chaos again.

  “Everyone, stop kidding yourselves!” This time, the white raven suddenly spoke in his stern voice, cutting everyone else off. “By the rules of fate, everything must die. There is a limit to man’s power, and he must obey such boundaries. ‘Fear the aether, for only the Originator is eternal,’ this has been the vow for all musicians since the Dark Ages. Have you all heard of it before?” He observed his shocked companions and said mockingly, “Have you all been reading too many novels? Everyone moves toward death the moment they are born into this world. It has been arranged so by fate, and nobody can avoid it. Once someone dies, he will not come back. How can a corpse climb out of its grave? To return his soul to another body? Since when has mankind had something as luxurious as a ‘soul’? Even if we have had it, our ancestors must have sold it to Satan thousands of years ago.

  “He turned into a rat? Nonsense! If it were possible, then the law of conservation of mass from the School of Modifications would be wrong. Who knows how many people will die from the recoil of their music? Don’t be misguided by the paganist Newton. He isn’t even a musician! He was just a lunatic who was hit on the head by an apple! Moon Chant is dead. This is the truth!”

  “Hmph, who knows if Moon Chant has a hidden card or not,” the vulture muttered. “There’s no lack of methods for longevity.”

  The white raven huffed, “Longevity is not immortality!”

  “But the Pope…”

  “Enough!” the white raven roared. “Are you so high up in our mundane world that you dare to question the gods?”

  “I don’t dare, but don’t forget what Moon Chant was doing in the Royal Institute of Research!” the vulture refuted. “We still don’t know how extensively he researched the forbidden topics. Before he fled, he had erased all records and wiped the memories of every related person. Anyone who interacted with him before has forgotten his existence. After all these years, all we know is that he was an Easterner!”

  “And anyway, did someone really kill him?” The owl said, “Even if the lunatic Maxwell wasn’t willing to fight him, the royal musicians were helpless against him too. Even Gaius lost half of his men when he tried to capture Moon Chant personally!”

  “That’s right! Gaius betrayed us after that mission. We still don’t know what secrets Gaius learned.”

  “I knew that Rumulusians couldn’t be trusted! The Pope had bestowed so much power upon Gaius, but he betrayed us at the most vital moment, bewitched by an Easterner!”

  “Revolutionary army? Those d*mned traitors! I bet Gaius and Moon Chant were in on it together that entire time…”

  “But what should we do? If Moon Chant is really still alive and they become allies…”

  “Everyone, please calm down!” the white raven said, but no one paid him any attention. His eyes turned angry and he raised his voice. “Silence!” Finally, the birds fell silent.

  “Look, let’s all calm down, alright?” The white raven said coolly, “There is no need to worry. There is no doubt that Moon Chant is dead.”

  “How are you so sure?” the pelican asked after a long pause. “Even the strongest musicians may lose against him.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” the white raven laughed. “Only this is undeniable. This person has never lost, and has never disappointed others. No musician dares to say they could win against him. Since he acted and told us that Moon Chant is dead, there is no way that he’s alive.”

  “How are you sure that he did not lie to you?”

  “Because there is no need!” The white raven uttered a name coldly. The watch tower fell into silence. The birds looked at each other in shock. After a long time, their worried hearts finally relaxed. Like dust settling, they were finally able to breathe comfortably.

  That sentence had been like magic, calming the chaos instantly. The white raven had said, “The one who killed Moon Chant was Bach.”

  92 Files

  Still in the library, more than half the day had passed but Ye Qingxuan was still empty handed. He had found no clues at all! He had looked through every record and file related to the Royal Academy of Music. The pile towered beside him.

  “Collection of Personnel Files at the Royal Academy of Music,” courses and schedules of the different schools, records of school anniversary celebrations, summary of announcements, staff lists of each school, pictures of large-scale ceremonies, newspaper interviews about the Academy, the salaries for each year. There were even lists of the classrooms and dorms…

  Ye Qingxuan had read through all of it from noon to mid-afternoon! He had a more holistic understanding of all four schools and sixteen majors, but it did not matter at all. He had not found anything that he had wanted, and accidentally learned too much about what he did not care about. In order not to miss any details, he had even held his nose and read through Sydney’s autobiography! But in the end, all he got was the amazing adventures of the stupid man’s youths, but they were probably made up.

  Moon Chant, Ye Lanzhou, Ye Qingxuan’s father…He seemed to have never existed. He had disappeared from every record and memory in the world. If Ye Qingxuan did not remember him, would he be entirely forgotten?

  —

  After reading the last book, Ye Qingxuan had lost all hope. He collapsed onto the pile of books, sinking into a gray state. There was no sign of any Easterner in any of the records! And especially not an Easterner that had been the vice principal. Was Hermes lying? Even though Hermes had a bad personality, he did not seem like the type to lie for fun. What was going on? Who had erased all of the records?

  “He didn’t even leave behind the lecturer’s name on the class schedules!” Ye Qingxuan punched the ground angrily and stuck his middle finger up at the air, “Why don’t you go big or go home and get rid of the sign-in sheet too?” Of course, no one replied in the silence, but Ye Qingxuan froze.

  He shot up from the ground, finally having realized something. “That’s right. The sign-in sheet…every public lecture would have included the professor’s signatures! Otherwise, it would be impossible to calculate their salaries!” The best thing was that those useless pieces of paper counted as lecture material and would be collected by the library.

  “Sign-in sheet! Sign-in sheet!” Ye Qingxuan chanted like a lunatic as he started searching through the shelves. But after a long while, he was still empty-handed. He could not find it.

  In the centuries that the academy had existed, there must have been millions of lectures. If every lecture had a sign-in sheet, at least ten warehouses would be needed to store them all. Why would they be here? And even if they were, Ye would not be able to find them in the giant library, right?

  He sighed in despair, trying to resist the urge to slam his head against the shelf. When he looked into the surging darkness, his eyes lit up. He might not know but…they would know! If they knew where the personnel files were, then what Dominic called ‘little things,’ raised in the library, would know the place like the back of their hand.

  “Hey, anybody here?” Ye Qingxuan looked around and raised his hand. “Does anyone know where the sign-in sheets from the Royal Academy of Music nineteen years ago are?”

  “…” As if a group of people were staring coldly at him, no answer came from the darkness.

  “Come on, I know you’re listening! Help me out!” Ye Qingxuan’s expression was still genuine. “Don’t be like this. What if we make a deal?”

  The darkness remained silent.

  “Hey, if I can help you with anything, I’ll be glad to do it!” Ye Qingxuan raised his voice. “At least consider it! Friend, I’m the concertmaster…why don’t we make a deal? People should help each other! There’s a saying from the East that goes, ‘everyone works for me and I work for everyone.’ Can’t you at least give me a hint?”

  A long time passed before a voice said, “Marble.�
� The soft voice that came from behind Ye Qingxuan was like a little girl’s.

  “Huh?” Ye Qingxuan looked back in shock, but there was nothing there.

  The voice rang again as if it had never spoken before. A faint hand made of dust reached out from the darkness. There was a shiny marble between its three fingers, and it shook it before Ye Qingxuan’s eyes. “Marble. Want.”

  Ye Qingxuan was overjoyed. “Yes, yes! I’ll get you a bunch of marbles when I get out! But it’s kind of hard to find ones made of bone. Is glass okay? What color do you like? Red? White? Or green?”

  The darkness surged and there were soft sounds, as if the beasts were discussing amongst themselves. After a while, the dust hand raised two fingers. “One hundred. Every kind.”

  Ignoring the fact that they did not know how to count, Ye Qingxuan nodded quickly. “Great! It’s a deal!”

  There was the soft sound again, then the dust hand rose slowly, pointing at Ye Qingxuan. “Promise?”

  Ye Qingxuan raised his own hand and gave it a high five. “I promise.” Of course, the high five was silent. The dust hand dissipated, leaving no trace behind. And then boom!

  The floor under Ye Qingxuan suddenly cracked open and collapsed, a hole appeared. There was a sharp cry and then the youth was gone.

  —

  Screaming, Ye Qingxuan fell into the darkness. Quickly, he landed with a thud on a giant pile of something. Dust flew and swirled in the air, choking him. Light from some unknown source illuminated the underground room.

  Ye Qingxuan climbed up from the pile of notebooks with difficulty. He looked around in shock, realizing that he seemed to be in a landfill. In the vast underground square, there were piles and piles of books. The tattered records had been tossed there, forgotten for years until a giant hole appeared in the corner of the wall.