48 – Of Men, Lions, Oxen, and Eagles (5)
The man and woman in brown robes shielded their eyes with their hands. Though they staggered, they did not collapse.
Eventually, the man spoke. It wasn’t the confident voice from before; it was a strained and forced voice, as if speaking through a hole.
“We said, ‘As you sow, so shall you reap!’ You treated them with indifference. No matter what happened to them, you didn’t care at all! Since you sowed indifference, loneliness, and isolation in them, now you shall reap those from them!”
Maria gazed at Paolo, the elderly man standing closest to her.
“Thou. The one who contemplated setting fire to the door. Speak thy name.”
If it were mere words, he might have retorted curtly, ‘Why ask such a thing?’ But Maria didn’t stop with words alone. Following her gaze, a radiant light gradually approached above the old man’s head.
Even if innocent, when exposed to the gaze of all, one tends to wither and become a mere semblance in the face of fear. The light, as brilliant as the sun observed by the naked eye, was a ‘scrutinizing’ aspect.
The old man extended his hand, placing it just above his eyebrows. The light was still strong, but as he squinted his eyes, the surroundings became visible.
A familiar face. The impudent young man who habitually retorted so rudely earlier. He seemed so detestable before, but now he looked down on him like an angel of retribution.
“B… Bawlo…”
“Inquisitor Maria asks thee. Has anyone in this house made thee lonely, troubled, or tormented?
Treated thee as if nonexistent, closed thy ears to whatever words thou uttered, or found it displeasing even to look upon thee passing by?
Or perhaps, someone confined thee and shouted that thou must be burned in the fire?”
The old Bawlo tilted his head, but Maria seemed dissatisfied. Ruthlessly, she pressed on with a strong tone.
“Who dares defy the representative of light with such insolence!
The Prophet of life and death is scrutinizing thee, and instead of declaring the truth, dost thou nod thy head and try to avert thy gaze!
Speak forth from thy lips!”
Lifting his head straight seemed even challenging for the old man.
“Y-Yes… it was not like that.”
Uttering words seemed burdensome. The neck that had supported a lifetime was attempting to escape, the legs refusing to move, and the arms not making even the slightest effort to protect their master.
In the darkness, a feeble existence attempting to set fire to a neighbor’s door, and in the brightness, a fragile being trembling as if the wind might shatter it.
“No. It was not so.”
“Then, has everyone in this city treated thee harshly? Couldst thou not associate with anyone and hear no one’s words?”
Not so. Bawlo was certain. Former comrades around him. The old men in the market who, despite lamenting, often gave sermons. And there were men and women in brown attire.
“No. No. It wasn’t like that.”
“Then why did you try to set this house on fire?”
“Why did it happen?”
The old man couldn’t grasp the situation. He despised it. He hated it to the point where he wanted to burn it all down. While he slept alone in solitude, seeing them happy and laughing was repulsive to him.
“But was it a sin worthy of being burned alive?”
The old man didn’t answer. He couldn’t bring himself to answer that it wasn’t true.
“Why me? Why, why only me?”
Indignation pushed away any sense of guilt. The old man cursed.
“I, we, what did we do wrong? We just gathered and sang songs! We danced happily to the old tunes and had minor arguments. There was no need for a heretic inquisition to intervene and persecute us!”
“The judgment is mine, not yours!”
The loud shout pierced his ears, and the old man covered them.
“I will place you in the secular court. You. Your accomplices. Everyone who conspired with you. I will put you all on trial and will not give you food or drink until you confess the truth!
I will search through every record of your entire life and hear the testimonies of everyone who lived closely with you, from a three-year-old child to an eighty-year-old elder!
So speak the truth before I throw you into the cold prison floor.
Who is it? Who made you set this house on fire? Who made you sing the old songs, and who made you feel lonely? Was it your own doing, or was it someone else’s doing?”
As he gasped for breath, the old man reached out his hand spasmodically. Those people in brown clothes. Those people were the problem. “That’s right. It’s true,” the old man thought.
“There was no problem until they arrived. There were no problems until they blew their wind. They provoked us. They incited us. They said we were lonely.”
“The young ones in the long brown clothes!”
The withered old men shouted in unison.
“It’s them! They did it! They incited us. They told us to set fire. They did it! They shouted that we were being ignored!”
“Despicable creatures!”
The woman in brown screamed as she tried to flee. But it was already too late. The guards had surrounded the park without giving them a chance to escape. Holding long spears, the officers had even prepared ropes to bind them in advance.
“When did we ever celebrate and applaud your words, only to have you betray us now? We merely accompanied you, didn’t we?”
“Bring them to court!”
The elders shouted without hesitation.
“Arrest them!”
The officer approached. The eyes of both men and women flickered. From the sleeves of their clothes, the officer pulled out a small, sharp dagger.
“We willingly offer our blood and bodies!”
The men and women screamed as they stabbed their own throats with the daggers.
Black liquid oozed out of their throats, and soon turned into black flames. Enveloped in the flames like burning reeds, their bodies writhed and twisted, eventually transforming into something eerie and standing upright.
They stood side by side, their bodies fused together. With their four eyes, they shed black tears, and each time they opened their mouths, their black tongues flickered. Shadows writhed behind them like the legs of a starfish.
Their ribs protruded like the wings of insects, constantly expanding and contracting, and their skin clung to their backs like hungry leeches, leaving behind a sinister void that resembled the throat of a demon.
It screamed. The mark engraved on the shoulders of the elders wrapped around their bodies in an instant. Those who couldn’t rise in the light now stood captivated by darkness and shadows.
Just like in their youthful and fierce days, a flag fluttered among the rejuvenated elders. It was a flag with the portrait of the prophet of life and death.
However, it was hung upside down and dirtied, with holes scattered all over it. At the bottom, the red letters III were mockingly displayed.
Like warhorses with their eyes covered by blinders, the elders charged forward. Like starved beasts, they tore off the guards’ armor and snatched their spears. They took torches and threw them into people’s houses.
The residents didn’t stay still either. Mothers held knives in their hands and blocked the path in front of their children, while fathers swung clubs, chairs, and staffs to strike and push them away.
But like a rising tide, the spreading shadow overturned their bodies and shadows from bottom to top, and soon they screamed and cowered on the ground, wailing in despair.
It was the resurrection of the monastery.
* * * * *
Before Cain’s eyes, Beatrice danced. Laughing with her bare body, she spun around. However, her back revealed only bones and muscles without flesh.
– In the past, pretty seamstresses sweated, stitching one by one. Now, wriggling maggots strip away the flesh to adorn. Doesn’t it please you? The clothes you put on me, Kyros.
The world spins around. The banquet hall in the Eastern Kingdom was beautiful. Nowhere else in the world could one see such a variety of dances.
– Odd. You were always clumsy with your feet. Stepping on the hem of my dress or my shoe was common, and you even tripped over your own legs. But, how could holding a sword transform a person so much, Kyros?
“No.”
Cain took a deep breath. He adjusted the sheath at his left hip and resettled the sword quietly resting there. He tightly gripped the staff in his right hand.
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“I am Cain.”
– You…
Beatrice was furious.
– How dare you…?
“You’re just a mere shadow apparition.” Cain walked forward. Stepping on the ground with the staff, he felt the vibrations in his palm.
Only what touches the body. Only what is felt by the skin is real.
There is a task to be done. One must not be entangled in the past.
– How could you dare…!
Beatrice rushed at him. Cain swung the staff. It was as foolish as splitting shadows, but he knew it was foolish. He had to do it. He had to confirm. What he held in his hand was not a sword but a staff. A staff couldn’t overcome a bear.
The scattered shadows gathered again. As if to say it shouldn’t be like this, they blocked Cain’s path twice, thrice, but he ignored them and pushed through the crowd.
He tapped the back and the back of the knees of an old man leaping towards his home. Before the old man fell, Cain held onto his waistband and gently lowered him.
Dodging the one rushing with a scream, he stabbed the staff between the legs. The old man crumpled. Judging by how he put his hand on the ground, he probably wasn’t seriously injured.
Cain continued to swing the staff. Blocking the old men trying to storm into the house, he made them lie down on the ground. He tore the rough rope tied to the waist of a guard and wrapped it around the rough old man like a noose.
The firm grip of a young guard pulled Cain’s foot. He pleaded to be spared.
Cain swung the staff. It struck with such force that the helmet crumpled. The crying figure clutched their helmet, screaming in pain.
“Get a hold of yourself! What are you doing while the empire is dying?”
The resentful gaze turned towards Cain, trembling at the mention of “imperial citizen.” Despite the tears and resentment, a considerable determination shone through.
Cain nodded, slapped the figure’s cheek, then continued running. He subdued an elderly person, knocked down a confused guard without mercy.
“Too slow.”
Guards regained their senses one by one, and people inside the house slowly woke up. The screams of children, the cries of family members stirred them.
But it was too late.
Elderly trapped in shadows tried to kill everyone, yet the Masada residents couldn’t bring themselves to retaliate. They were once affectionate and mischievous elders, rough and intimidating, but during village festivals or major celebrations, they would show a kind, laughing side.
Masada people disliked them, but they couldn’t kill them. Despite the hatred, they couldn’t drive them away.
It was crossing a line. Crossing a shared boundary.
Yet, Masada residents wouldn’t turn away from someone to that extent.
As the night deepened, the power of the shadow that captured the elderly intensified. As much as the guards and villagers rose, the force of the shadow over the elderly grew stronger.
Instead of improving, the situation took a turn for the worse.
“Beasts. We need to capture the beasts.”
Cain turned his body.