“It may have been a whim, but I am glad I did. I had not realized she was not human. Or perhaps, it was the hand of God.”
Autumn spoke words that even the most extraordinary of theological scholars would not know how a person should respond to that.
“I have discovered what I should truly be, thanks to that wolf.”
Then he took the figure of the Holy Mother in his hands and fed it to the fire.
It was like a farewell.
“I shall return to the deep oceans and forget everything. The humans, too, shall forget everything. What strange creatures they are. They can swallow pain and sadness much greater than themselves,” he said and nodded like a monk.
“Perhaps that is what faith is. We have no such thing.”
He lifted himself slowly.
It almost seemed as though he was going for a short walk.
“You may use any of this to keep the fire going. Once the blizzard passes, someone will come. Then have them take you on their boat.”
“…Are you leaving?”
“What is left for me to do here? I cannot save this place. I truly could not save the Black-Mother. Had this not given its life rather, then the pain here would have ended long ago.”
That much was true.
But what was right, and what was wrong?
Everyone had their own reasons and their own judgments.
They were each right in their own way, but for some reason, when brought together, they no longer worked.
Without Autumn, this island would no longer be able to sustain itself, eventually falling into devastation and dying out.
No one would have to endure pain after that. Perhaps that was salvation in itself.
“My negotiations that were inconvenient for you will sustain the islands for a short time. The smarter humans will leave. And that will be all for those who cannot.”
Or perhaps, Col thought, that Autumn had finally found a way to get the islanders out of this land by way of the slave deals.
He believed that even if they were in a distant land, separated from their families, it was much better than staying here.
He did not think it was that reckless. He, too, had tried to do much the same with Reicher.
“Without me, they will not be able to settle the negotiations. Then, it will all work in favor for your Winfiel side.”
For some reason, he did not seem at all happy.
“If only gold appeared from the island itself…that would solve everything.”
He knew that such a convenient miracle would never happen. There was an extent to what sort of miracles even the Black-Mother could bring about. Nonhumans lived much longer lives than humans, and compared to mortals, they almost seemed to possess unrivaled power. But there were only so many things that those powers could prevent.
Myuri’s mother, Holo, had also warned her of this—do not rely too much on your fangs and claws; there is only so much she could do with those. Autumn had used his powers in accordance with the ways of the human world, so the region ran smoothly. In that sense, he had supported it well.
And in the end, he saved no one. Not even a glimpse of what had improved remained. What a terrible end.
“Ah, right.”
Autumn was about to leave the building, as his head poked out of the sharkskin that hung over the entrance, then he came back.
“I will take one with me. Even if I forget it all, I may recall what was important when I look at this.”
He retrieved a figure of the Black-Mother, then tilted his head.
“What a strange story. Here, this is more valuable than gold.”
Then the embodiment of the whale left as black smoke billowed from the raging, burning fire. Col’s clothes had already dried, and a bit of warmth had returned to Myuri’s body.
Autumn’s words had been deep.
In this moment, there was no doubt that the jet was much more valuable to Col than gold would have been. It had saved Myuri’s life, and he wanted to spread the story around as a miracle of the Black-Mother—This really happened! Who cared if it was actually the remains of something the avatar of a whale once burned?. Whether or not a whale that could turn into a human fit into the teachings of the scripture was hardly worth thinking about.
It was essential that people learned and believed that a miracle had truly happened to them. The most important thing was that they had been saved.
“Then?”
He stared at the figure of the Black-Mother in his hand. The wavering light of the fire lit its gentle expression. Illuminated by such a strong light, it glinted, like it truly had turned into gold.
No—wait.
It had actually turned to gold in his hands!
When it occurred to him that there may be a way to save the people of the islands, he lost himself and tried to stand, almost dropping Myuri’s head. That made him snap back to reality, and a bitter taste filled his mouth.
He was a shallow human who read some books, obsessed over theology in his little hot spring village of Nyohhira, then assumed he knew everything there was to know when it came to faith. All the actions he had considered so deeply and taken were all nothing but ignorant, fruitless efforts. And when he had guessed wrong and imagined acknowledging the reality, he grew scared and could not move.
This region had somehow managed to develop, thanks to a person like Autumn governing over it. It was rather odd to think now that an outsider’s ideas would decide the direction of the land. He wanted to pretend like he had not noticed anything and warm Myuri. Then, when she woke up, he would celebrate her good health as though it had been his own achievement.
“But…,” he murmured and looked at Myuri.
At the moment her life was about to be snuffed out, she had shown him a miracle. She was a girl who wanted him to be impressive, he who was a fool that only got older and older.
If he could not be the least bit brave for her now, he would be too ashamed to face her once she woke up. Even if she did not notice, he would not be able to forgive himself.
It would make jumping into the cold, dark sea seem all for naught.
There must have been something even her useless big brother could do. There must have been a way to live where she would not laugh at him.
No matter how foolish it was, he had the obligation to continue believing that the world could be a better place.
He patted her head, brushed his fingers through her hair, then placed her softly on the floor.
“I will be right back.”
He stood and went into the next room. He stepped across the figures of the Holy Mother strewn about the floor and pushed aside the sharkskin, wind and snow blowing in from the gaps.
The cold suddenly beat against his face.
He squinted his eyes and undauntedly moved toward the dock.
“Lord Autumn!”
He made his way to the water and called out the name with all his might.
But the wind drowned it all out, and the darkness dominated the seas.
“Is there something you need?”
That was not the darkness.
Col could not tell where the voice was coming from. He looked to the left, to the right, and up into the sky; he could not tell where the beginning or end of the massive body was.
As he stood in shock, the darkness spoke.
“If you do not need anything, then I shall be off.”
“P-please wait!” he said and desperately rearranged the thoughts in his head. “Gold will come from the island.”
“What?”
“Gold will come from the island. No—”
He raised the figure of the Black-Mother he gripped in his hand and said:
“We will turn this into gold.”
Such a thing was possible in the event of a miracle.
Yes.
They just need a miracle to happen.
It was still true, however, that that would not be enough. It was easy to cause things that could only be cal
led miracles by using nonhuman power, but it would be nothing more than a makeshift measure without the proper forethought. The large fangs and claws of nonhumans were, at the end of the day, nothing but powers that existed largely in ancient myth. There was only so much that they could accomplish in this new human world. In order to save an entire land of people, it was necessary to organize a structure that fit into the framework of the human world.
If he had to point out a problem, it was that Autumn’s miracle had been used to endure hardship. There was no doubt that it was the best method he came to after thinking about it in his own way. Col also thought that it had actually worked well.
But speaking from his own faith, Col thought that miracles should be things that always gave others reason to smile, and there should be many more possibilities for them in the workings of the human world. He had learned that from his journey with a master merchant and from his conversations with theologians who gathered all sorts of conclusions from the words of the scripture.
He should be able to create a new light by putting everything he had in his hands together.
“With your power, it is possible.”
“…”
“We should be able to bring back the smiles of this land by using the power of everyone involved with this island.”
Autumn was silent, then spoke slowly.
“Truly?”
He had no guarantee it would go well, and what he was trying to do was to fake a miracle and use that to create a permanent system. No matter what excuses he used, it would clash with the actions of a good believer as described in the scripture.
But he had thought about it in that shrine of lava. Faith was not right or wrong. What mattered was whether the outcome was right, and he could say with confidence that to return the people sold into slavery to their families could not possibly be wrong.
And then, even if he became the subject of scorn of all the clergymen in the world, at least Myuri would smile for him.
“Truly.”
If it did not go well, he thought about how Autumn might eat him or perhaps drag him into the bottom of the sea. But he had already died once. Col was not afraid.
“Truly.”
The moment he repeated himself, there was a spectacularly big wave, and then Autumn was there, standing at the edge of the docks.
He was looking at Col fiercely, emotion laid bare in his eyes.
“I believe you.”
They were fitting words for a monk.
EPILOGUE
One reason why the Church became corrupt, drowned in riches, and ended up in its current state, was because faith could be sold at a high price.
People would empty their wallets as a way of thanks in order to earn blessings, protection, and comfort in the big milestones in life—birth, weddings, funerals; protection on a journey; prayers for well-being in sickness; guidance in old age. Many people would give all they could for what they desperately wished for.
Faith was money.
The sky was a clear blue, the blizzard of the past few days now nothing but a dream.
It was a beautiful day, a sign that the end of winter was slowly coming northward, and a new season was on its way.
The waves on the seas, which had been raging just a little while ago, were gentle like a baby’s sleeping breath as they caressed the shoreline.
Gliding on the calm waters was a giant ship.
From what he had heard, a hundred people were about to be sold. Officially, they would have been volunteering their labor for the holy Church. Only God knew if that was true or not.
Though no one in the port of Caeson raised their voices, the whole town was wrapped in sadness. The only ones smiling were the archbishop and the wealthy merchant. Reicher and the others simply drank themselves to sleep. The islanders took the gold and were made to promise they would side with the Church in the coming war. But it was not what they wished for. Whenever the giant ship crossed the islands here and there, the families who had sent one of their own watched them go.
Autumn, who had come from the waters, told Col all this. They confirmed their plan and preparations once more. It was not that complicated, so it ended quickly.
Ever since that night, Autumn, who had been quite businesslike, would glance at him before returning to the water.
“You have not said anything about compensation.”
Col had come on behalf of the Kingdom of Winfiel to see if the people of this land would be suitable allies in war. Autumn, who had collected the veneration of all the islanders onto himself, would be able to have a notable influence on them.
“Have you forgotten? You saved our lives. What else would we ask you give us?”
Autumn did not smile.
“These proud sailors will not side with those who buy islanders for gold to take them hostage.”
“But my plan is to sell faith for gold.”
Autumn peered at him with quiet eyes between his hair and beard.
“People place different value on things, even if it is the same fish. I suppose that is what the fishermen sigh over.”
Though Autumn had said his human identity was temporary, answers like this made it seem more and more like he truly was a monk.
“At the very least, I will appear to you wherever you are in the sea when I hear your voice. Whether the people of this land will follow me, well…Only God knows.”
Just as Col thought he saw a grin on Autumn’s face, the avatar of the whale had already returned to the sea. The hole in one of the rooms in the monastery that led to the water had been for him to come and go when it was clear outside. As he watched Autumn disappear into the shining, green-lit waters, what he felt was not the satisfaction of successfully carrying out Hyland’s mission.
It was happiness, knowing that he had perhaps been able to aid Autumn, who had supported this land all by himself.
All that was left was to fulfill the job he had been given.
He left the monastery and headed to the dock.
Several small boats were tied there, and each had one person inside. Among them was Yosef, but the majority were pirates.
“Lord Autumn has spoken. The Black-Mother is angry.”
“Oohh…”
The anxiety spread. The pirates especially grew pale. That was because what they had done to Col had played a rather big part in that.
On the night of the blizzard, the pirates all had been told to capture any suspicious-looking ships on the water. And while it had gone well until they tackled Yosef’s boat, a fool had fallen into the sea, and yet another jumped in after. And the one who had fallen in was, of all things, dressed like a priest.
The expressions on the pirates’ faces when they saw he had lived would stick in his memory for quite a while.
There were those left speechless, who doubted themselves, who fell to their knees before Col, and even those who burst into tears. Their reactions had become even more intense ever since Autumn declared him a soul who had received all of the Holy Mother’s protection.
As though listening for their judgment in hell, those pirates carefully heeded every word he said.
The Black-Mother was angry. There was someone trying to harm the islands.
“You must know that the Black-Mother does not only offer salvation.”
Those who discerned the deeper meaning behind those words were the only ones who knew the Black-Mother’s true identity.
That being said, the expressions of those who submitted themselves to faith stiffened.
“However, as long as we are good followers, she may be benevolent with our sins.”
It also meant that she would forgive them for what they did to him. The pirates seemed slightly relieved.
“The Black-Mother has announced the coming of a miracle, and punishment will come before long. We must show those people mercy and receive her true teachings.”
Those sitting in the small boats all nodded. Each of them either gripped their figures of the Black-
Mother or patted their chests where they kept them.
“We must have them understand that the Black-Mother will show us a true miracle.”
Though he had not raised a battle cry, everyone quietly understood what they had to do. Once he said, “That is all,” the pirates paddled their boats back to the galley anchored off shore.
Yosef’s ship stood beside it. The left side, which had been hollowed out in the pirate attack, seemed unhindered in sailing thanks to emergency measures.
“Master Col.”
As the pirates headed toward the ship, Yosef stepped onto the dock.
“Will salvation really come to this land?”
Col took a deep breath when he heard his serious question.
“We can do nothing but continue to believe in true salvation. However, I can only promise that great salvation will come.”
He had not lied. It was not as though they would come across fortune in their sleep.
The miracles of nonhumans were nothing but a beginning.
In the end, for humans to live on, they themselves needed to act.
“I would not mind that. It would be better than what we have now,” Yosef said and returned to his ship.
He watched them off from the dock, and once it fell silent again, he headed the opposite way of the monastery shore.
The sun was bright, the wind calm, and the water was so clear he could see all the way to the bottom.
One step and another—he made his way forward as his feet caught in the small pools and rough rocks and soon made it to the water.
Squinting, he could clearly see the gallant figure of a giant ship making its way calmly and confidently over the water.
A bolt from the blue, as it was often called.
For a moment, the ship soared in the air.
Though he knew what was happening, he was still surprised to see it, and it could not compare to what the people on board must have been feeling. It looked like the ship had risen into the air before it sank back into the water with a magnificent spray of water, making it seem like time had slowed down. The moment he thought he could see a distant rainbow, he heard a loud boom like a drum.
The giant ship had, of course, not escaped unscathed. It leaned far to the right and looked as though it would capsize at any moment.
Wolf & Parchment, Volume 2 Page 23