Chapter 41: A New Journey

Chapter 41: A New Journey

Inside a room in an abandoned ancient castle, sunlight pierced through the gap between the heavy curtains and fell upon a pitch-black coffin.

Suddenly, the coffin lid produced a grinding sound and slowly shifted to the side.

With a bang, it fell to the floor.

A few seconds later, Azik Eggers sat up, his expression rather blank.

At this moment, he wore a set of loose pajamas popular in Loen a few years ago, looking like a nobleman who had just woken inside his own manor.

After taking a while to recover, Azik narrowed his eyes slightly. With a dazed expression, as though he no longer knew who he was, he looked around.

He then saw the brilliant sunlight streaming through the crack in the curtains. He saw dust drifting and dancing within the light. He saw letters scattered across the table, across the floor, and beside the fallen coffin lid.

They were like giant snowflakes, covering nearly half the room.

Azik stepped out of the coffin. With confusion still on his face, he bent down, picked up a letter, opened it, and began to read.

As he read, the bewilderment on his face faded slightly, as though he had remembered many things from the past.

Azik immediately found a chair and sat down, causing all the letters to fly before him and stack into a peak.

He opened them one after another, reading them one by one. From time to time, he paused and sank into long contemplation, as though seriously recalling something.

The sunlight passing through the crack in the curtains gradually dimmed. After a long while, it shone in again.

By then, Azik had finally finished reading all the letters and completed one long meditation after another.

He glanced at the letters now piled completely upon the table, then slowly let out a long sigh.

After that, he found some writing paper, a fountain pen, and usable ink. With a gentle expression, he wrote:

“…I have awakened and received all your letters. They helped me remember who I am, who you are, and many things from the past.

“Your experiences, whether in complexity or brilliance, have far exceeded my imagination. They also seem to have helped me understand some of the questions I once had.

“From these letters, I can feel your joy, your exhaustion, your hope toward life, and the heavy responsibility you placed upon your shoulders.

“I can roughly guess why you made that final choice. If it had been me, I might not have been able to make up my mind.

“From the very beginning, you were a guardian—from imitating others to becoming someone others imitated.

“Next, I will begin a journey, pursuing more of the past and witnessing the changes of this world.

“You still seem to be sleeping, but that is all right. I will write to tell you about the interesting things I encounter, the interesting customs I see, and the interesting people I meet.

“I think that by using sacrifice, I should be able to send these letters to you…”

The golden nib reflected the sunlight, scratching softly over the white paper as it continued writing more and more.

…

Backlund, inside the sunroom of a townhouse.

Melissa entered while holding the hand of a little girl who was clearly not yet ten years old.

“Auntie, Auntie, why here?” the little girl asked in confusion. “In all the stories I heard, mysterious rituals are held in basements.”

Melissa, her hair pinned up and glasses perched on her face, smiled.

“Those are unofficial mysticism rituals.”

She then pointed toward the altar already arranged ahead and the candles that had not yet been lit.

“You can begin.”

“Really?” The little girl tilted her head and glanced at the bright sunlight streaming through the window. “Should we, should we draw the curtains?”

“No. This is fine,” Melissa answered. Then, smiling, she watched as the little girl imitated the way she usually performed rituals, doing so with utter unfamiliarity and extraordinary clumsiness.

During the process, Melissa guided her from time to time and even helped personally. At last, the little girl finished the preliminary steps of the ritual.

“All right. Repeat after me.” Melissa inhaled lightly, her expression gradually settling.

“Mm-hmm.” The little girl also tried hard to make herself look solemn.

Melissa looked at the candle flame on the altar for several seconds, then slowly spoke in ancient Hermes:

“The Fool that does not belong to this era…”

“Dee foo datz not belongz dis era…” The little girl had never learned ancient Hermes. Although she tried her best to imitate her aunt, she had no idea what she was saying.

“The mysterious ruler above the gray fog…” Melissa continued.

“Da mystewious wooler above da gway fog…” the little girl followed in deadly earnest.

“The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck…” After Melissa finished reciting line by line, the flame at the very top swelled at once to the size of a human head, not waiting for the little girl to imitate her.

Within that great ball of firelight, a slippery tentacle, faintly marked with strange, evil patterns yet impossible to see clearly, hesitantly extended outward. Its movements were extremely slow.

The little girl froze instantly, then suddenly retreated and hid behind her aunt.

Melissa pressed her lips together. With a gentle expression tinged with a smile, she said, “Don’t be afraid. Go say hello to him.”

Timidly, the little girl peeked out from behind her aunt. She saw that frightening, slippery tentacle lightly swaying within the brilliant sunlight streaming through the window, as though brushing away dust, and also as though waving to her.

“Go on. Don’t be afraid,” Melissa repeated.

At last, the little girl gathered her courage and stood before the altar.

She babbled a string of incantations she had invented herself, then revealed a sincere smile and raised her palm upward.

The slippery tentacle, whose patterns had faded from sight, paused for several seconds, as though hesitant and somewhat unfamiliar.

Then it gently lifted, curled slightly, and descended inch by inch.

In the sunlight, it tapped against that tiny palm.

(The End)