by Feng Yue
Even in a pitch black world, there would be moonlight in the darkness.
Moonlight…
407 The World Keeps Spinning
The Holy Spirit Temple was silent. Serene moonlight fell from the stained glass windows, shining onto the various stone coffins. It illuminated the ancient and distinguished names. Dust floated in the air, dancing with the faint hymn. Singing from the distant church hung in the stillness, complementing the graveness of the coffins. At the front of the coffins, a lonely figure stood before the large altar. He wore the crown of utmost authority and a pure red robe. It seemed to have been dyed by blood but rather than feeling like ‘death,’ it represented the reverent ‘life.’
This was the red that encompassed all meaning. This was the King of Red.
In the stillness, he looked at the altar and asked, “Is that what Hermes said?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.” Nibelungenlied’s voice was respectful. “He chose this path and did his best.”
“I see.” The King of Red nodded. “He has always been clever though this is especially laughable for him. I am sure he knows my thoughts if he made this choice. Let him enjoy his ‘life.’ From now on, these matters will have nothing to do with him.”
Nibelungenlied said, “He wanted me to thank you for him.”
“…He even predicted my words?” The King of Red laughed. “He truly is clever, is he not?”
Rather than replying, Nibelungenlied said, “The Ministry of Information told Anglo the location of the Ultimate Well’s appearance this year… How should we punish what Archbishop Michael did?”
“He’s already dying. Do you want me to lock him up?” The King said, “Just let him retire with the Ministry. The Inquisition’s era is over. The shattered dream of a crusade is the best punishment for him.”
“He will fall apart.”
“He won’t.” The King shook his head. “He will continue waiting. Even if he died, he would find someone to wait for another crusade for him and fight with the natural catastrophe… He has endless hope. These things won’t crush him.”
“Understood.” Nibelungenlied asked, “Leviathan’s awakening is fated. The Cardinal will continue fighting with Anglo.”
“Has the Anglo royal family not always been determined?” The King of Red said lightly, “Sovereignty of the nations is the core of the second amendment. Leave Arthur’s matters to his descendants. It began with them so let it end with them. Haven’t they already taken back St. George’s spear to prepare for everything? If the Cardinals still wish to show the majesty and necessity of the Sacred City, tell the Knights Templar to prepare and be ready to take over in the worst situation.”
“Yes.” Finishing recording, Nibelungenlied said, “Commander Bann requested to be punished for the Romulusian War. He is awaiting the result now.”
“I am the one who ordered him to not harm any Romulusians. I am also the one who hindered him. We had decided too late. The result has nothing to do with him and Knights Templar.”
The King of Red ordered lightly, “Let him go repair the western desert defense line. With his abilities, it will be hard but may not be impossible. The descendants of the past Semites are still there. Tell him to bring the flag and that the Sacred City will give him all the needed equipment.”
After a long silence, Nibelungenlied asked, “Do you mean…for him to rebuild the Knights Hospitaller?”
“For the hundred years since the desert defense line was defeated, the Sixth Legion has been vacant for too long.”
The King of Red looked up. His face was cold as if he never had any expressions. He looked down on the human world emotionlessly. “The most painful thing for well-prepared people is that time does not wait. I do not wish to realize that the Knights Hospitaller has disappeared for too long when we need it.”
“Your Excellency is far-sighted,” Nibelungenlied replied respectfully.
The King of Red fell silent. After a stretch of silence, the midnight bell rang.
“Let us end here today.” The King waved a hand. “Hand everything else over to the Cardinals. They need something to argue over.”
“Yes.” Nibelungenlied asked, “Then what about the event at the city gates this evening? It involves the sword bearer of Anglo. The Cardinals are much divided over this.”
The King looked up at the moon. The light fell into eyes like a silent sigh. “He is someone as unwilling to be lonely as Ye Lanzhou.”
“Does Your Excellency sympathize with him?”
“No,” the King said. “Let the Cardinals decide on this. He made a choice and therefore must take responsibility. Since he wants justice, then give him justice. It is that simple.”
“…Perhaps.” It was rare for Nibelungenlied to be indecisive. “To many people, this type of simplicity is difficult. The lawyers of the Sacred City will argue until they spit out blood.”
“A long, long time ago, someone told me that the meaningless arguing is a necessary experience before coming to a conclusion. Even if the arguing is meaningless to both parties. Just let them find the result that they want.” The King of Red said indifferently, “I am just the pope. I cannot give them what the lord promised them.”
“I will notify them.”
“Good. You can go.” The King waved.
“And you?” Nibelungenlied asked. “Will you return to your room or eat dinner first?”
“Me?” The King of Red looked up. He gazed at the moon in the sky. “I suddenly want some silence…to experience what that coward wanted. It must feel nice. Otherwise, that guy would not miss it so.”
After a pause, Nibelungenlied said, “Perhaps the King of Yellow just wanted to rest. Your Excellency need not be so gloomy.”
“Perhaps.” He did not seem too convinced and just studied the moonlight. “After all, he has already escaped to somewhere far away. Even if he doesn’t come back, the people left behind has to worry about the future. Nibelungenlied, no matter what is lost, the world will keep spinning.”
No one replied. Nibelungenlied seemed to have already gone.
In the silence, the King of Red stood before the altar and looked up at the moonlight. His vision went past the night and into the endless sky. His eyes went up, up, and up.
There was a vast ring of moonlight in the darkest corner of the universe, far above the world. At some time…an unnoticeable speck had appeared before it. It bent the iron radiance, fighting against the gravitational pull of the Earth, and hovered on the stars’ orbit. It did not get closer or further. It just watched the land and sky, forever running in the silent void.
There, someone finally woke up from his dream. In the seemingly eternal silence, he opened his eyes and stared at the moon outside the window. His eyes grew peaceful and happy.
It was such good moonlight.
408 The Winged Folk
She woke from her dream. Opening her eyes, she saw the flame. In the sacred hall, the Sacred Flame was still lit. It shone in all directions. Majestic music theory burst behind her. The Sacred Flame flowed like large wings of fire. It created a gust of wind in the hall.
The light that passed through the material and aether world flowed. Countless hallucinations flowed as well. In the fleeting moment, mysterious scenes flashed by. Some were powerful and beautiful; others were dark and cold… The world joined inside the flame and became real. This seemed to be the true nature and expression of aether. Thus, she was reborn.
She did not feel any joy from being reborn. Instead, she looked up at the beautiful ceiling in silence. After a long while, she looked back and said quietly, “Caligula, I had a long dream.”
The old and withered man leaned on his cane and studied her. He smiled pleasantly. “Was it a good dream?”
“It was very long. I don’t remember.” She thought back and her eyes brightened. “But I remember that someone came back to find me and I was not scared anymore.”
“That is a good dream.” Caligula nodded. “When you become old, you’l
l think that in this world, you’re apart more than you’re together. The moments without loneliness are like dreams. But there are no regrets if you can have a dream like this.”
“I see…” She nodded and asked, “Will I see him again?”
“He has left,” Caligula answered. “He has probably already found somewhere he needed to return to, just like you. From now on, fate will care for him.”
“So I can’t see him again?” she asked. “I want to see him.”
Caligula fell silent. The light in her eyes faded.
“You are the descendant of Romulus, the child of the powerful god.” Caligula lowered his head and urged humbly, “You sacrificed yourself and became the host of the Flame. After being reborn with the enlightenment, you will be the emperor of the empire, the Augustus of utmost power… You are not the same as before.”
“So I can’t have friends?”
“Your Majesty, you are the emperor. You can have as many friends as you wish.”
“But those aren’t my friends, Caligula.” She shook her head. “I’m the emperor. They will all fear me.”
The old man studied her and wanted to say something but stopped himself. His eyes grew sad.
“I don’t understand but an emperor should be like this, right?” Seeing Caligula’s sadness, she smiled. “I’ll try to get used to it. Don’t worry, Caligula. There is someone in my heart so I won’t be afraid no matter what.”
After a long while, Caligula lowered his head. His expression was pleased yet troubled. “Your Majesty, you’ve grown up.”
“Kids always grow up.” She reached out and a flicker of firelight glowed in the air. A bronze mirror grew out of the fire. The material was refined here and came into existence as logically as breathing. She studied herself. The girl in the reflection smiled. It seemed as if she had aged ten years in one night. Her hair was dark red from the fire and she no longer looked child-like. Spinning around, she jumped up in excitement.
“Caligula, look, I grew taller!”
Caligula looked up at the girl on the steps. Her hair danced in the wind like flames and her eyes were powerful. He looked down. Suddenly, he did not dare to look anymore.
On the steps, the girl walked out of the fire. The flames lay on her skin like clothing, forming a majestic and sacred purple robe. The door opened before her, revealing the dazzling sky of the aether world.
In the sky, clusters of stars moved. They lit up this territory between existence and nonexistence. The large city broke apart the turbidity and hovered between lightness and darkness.
Countless people who had broken through the cocoons rushed over. They grouped outside the palace and knelt on the steps, gazing at the girl who exited. The crown of fire on her head represented power. The cane in her hands represented authority and the jewels represented the world. Two wings fluttered and she walked in the air. She looked down at the city, her kingdom. She was like the sun hanging in the sky.
“Emperor! Emperor! Emperor! Emperor!” The people gazed at the dazzling radiance and called out her name enthusiastically as if she was a god. When she raised her hand, the people fell silent. They bowed reverently, waiting for their emperor’s command. The girl in the sky studied her territory and people.
After a long while, she announced gravely, “My good citizens, since there is no place for us on the land, then let us go to the sky! From now on, Romulus and the Romulusians no longer exist. We have been reborn. From now on, we are the Winged Folk!”
The crowd rustled and called to the emperor in the sun, “The truth! The truth! The truth!” There were no more signs of beastliness on them.
That night, the Sacred Flame had absorbed all the strength to wipe away demonic blood. It had also catalyzed the King of Yellow’s scepter in them, allowing them to transform and be born again. Now, the aether grouped behind them and unfurled like wings! They cheered for their emperor and their wings flapped, flying to the sky. Countless wings created gusts of wind and grouped beside the sun.
“Then, follow me to the sky.” Inside the sun, the new emperor raised the jewel. Under the jewel’s glow, the void transformed and the turbidity shook. A hole gaped inside the void of the city. It broke apart the barriers and instantly went through the aether sea, ‘falling’ back into the material world.
The shockingly large city now hung in the air. Under the strong wind, the city swallowed and spat out aether. It consumed an impossible amount of power every second, distorting the temperament and rejecting the attraction of the earth.
At the top of the city, the emperor raised the scepter. Countless music theories wove inside her wings, transforming into a music score that covered the sky and land. One could hear the crashing of waves in that melody, above the nine skies.
Far, far away, a glimmer of starlight shone. Then it rushed into the city as if the galaxy had surged in. It was the Star Ring.
The Star Ring that had been still for so long now turned with a rumble. It adjusted its orbit and angle, twisting in the night sky. All astrologists gaped as the solid aether flow became one with the city. They fused seamlessly as if they had been one since the beginning of time.
Enveloped by the Star Ring, the city seemed to have blood. The blood flowed through and it came to life. The entire city rumbled and shook. Like a metal lotus, it bloomed with a bang in the sky. Finally, it transformed into a large archipelago in the air!
That night, the Star Ring changed. The Winged Folk were reborn from the fire. They returned from the aether world with their own territory and their emperor!
409 May the Lord Have Mercy
Late at night in Avalon, sickly white light illuminated the Privy Council. Lancelot took a deep breath and pushed open the metal box before him. Inside it, the ‘creature’ ate the light and tore apart the darkness. Cold and sharp light shot out from it. It appeared in the air for a moment and even breathing became painful.
The sharp light filled the air, turning the air into needles that pierced at the lung. One could see vaguely that the blade was carved with a fine and ancient music score. However, it was covered by dried blood and had become blurry and faint. It was so serene when it was not drinking blood. It was terrifyingly serene.
Lancelot picked it up and caressed the broken body of the spear and the seemingly dull tip. He seemed to hear a dragon’s heavy breathing and sweat poured from his back.
“The dragon slayer, the fallen steel, the spear of purification…this is it.” Lancelot carefully put the weapon back into the box and sighed. “St. George’s Spear.”
“The map from the Ministry of Information was accurate.“‘Tristan,’ still in his armor, sat before Lancelot. He had not yet washed after the travel. His eyes were tired and his hair messy. There was a crack in his armor as well. There was no sign of his prestige as the deputy of the Round Table Knights. Studying the spear inside the box, his eyes grew respectful. “We found it in the Well of the Ultimate. Unfortunately, the cost was high.”
“Did no one else return?”
After a long silence, Tristan shook his head. “They all died.”
Lancelot fell silent for a long while as well. He reached out for the cigar box but lowered his hand after hesitating. “Tell me, Tristan.” He coughed and he rasped out, “What happened?”
“We prepared the best ship. Within six short days, we experienced being stranded, submerged reefs, and sea creatures born from Leviathan’s awakening. When we arrived, we had already lost six men. Then we finally entered the ghost city. When we opened the lava dungeon, we finally witnessed the true appearance of the Well.”
Tristan paused. Pain flashed past his eyes. “The Well of the Ultimate is something humans should not go into, Lancelot. It is not just a rumor. I wanted to go down personally but Maleagant stopped me. He, Harris, and Galehaut jumped in. We waited outside for three days but only Galehaut climbed back out…
“When he came out, he had already been lit by the aether of destruction. Half of his body was already turned to d
ust. He was like a demon. This entire way back, I kept thinking that he had probably already gone crazy when he was down there.
“He remembered to bring the spear back but could not remember who I was. Sixteen men died to stop him. Holding the spear, he almost killed me.” He looked down and pointed at the armor on his chest. “Only an inch away.”
Lancelot could vaguely see the messy wound under the horrible crack in the armor. His heart was still beating painfully in the broken chest. It was covered in cracks as if it was wrapped with blood-red thread. It was flesh but somehow looked like metal.
Tristan murmured, “Only an inch and I wouldn’t be sitting here anymore. I am only fortunate that he did not waken the dragon soul…”
After a pause, Lancelot asked, “Is he still alive?”
“Until the moment the ship returned to Avalon.” Tristan sighed. “He always grasped the spear when he was still alive and wouldn’t let anyone touch it. When he arrived, he knew that his mission was about to end and died. Perhaps he could not put down his worries and wanted to go home.”
“To…return his soul?” Lancelot studied the ‘beast’ in the box, his eyes filling with troubled respect. Then he closed it so he would not have to look any more. Closing his eyes, he prayed, “May the Lord have mercy.”
-
The midnight bell rang. The watcher of the Westminster Abbey cemetery pushed the door open. He began surveying it as always, walking between the rows of tombstones. But halfway through, he stopped. Under the swaying lantern, cold wind blew from the sea and he felt a bad premonition.
Pat, pat, pat… The dim light illuminated the silent building in the near distance. It was the bell tower where the bodies of heroes were put before being buried. A coffin had been transported there hurriedly last evening to await the grand state funeral. But in the silence, there was a faint knocking sound as if the dead was knocking the door of the underworld. It followed a rhythm that matched the beating of his heart and echoed in his ears.