A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Sorry for the long Chapter in advance.

Chapter 32: Judgment

All of the cultists had come outside; the voices of argument spread with the gathering crowd. Above them the sun, prepared to take the rest.

One of the cultists called out, his voice breaking. "Lady, we ask for your help."

Their gray robes blurred together in the crowd. It looked like a vast, gray sea. Every face was tense. A few of them muttered, their hands crossed together.

Inside, Yi Jyuhan stood before the veiled statue. He closed his eyes. His fingers intertwined, and his voice gradually lowered. "The great lady of space. She, who watches the line of crossing. She, who knows where you entered and where you leave. The listener of void. The mother of learning who creates paths." He slowly opened his eyes and spread his hands.

"The One Who Remains Where Space Occurs. Your devotee carries the weight of the temple alone. Please show us the path that protects us."

Behind the veil, the statue’s eyes twinkled; a heavy silence swallowed the air. The gates opened and closed gently.

***

Dozens of screams came out of the crowd. The cultists who were screaming moved their hands to clench their heads. Their joints separated, but before the pair of hands could fall, they vanished without a trace.

All of these cultists’ bones pushed through their flesh as if something that was inside them was trying to escape; a cultist’s heart, pierced by his own rib, tore free. Their bodies being torn apart... Then all of their eyes bled that were chained with the cross etched into them.

The other cultists watched, their hands moving to their faces, closing their mouths. They didn’t know that these cultists were traitors before that moment.

Seeing someone screaming in agony who used to be one of them and perhaps some who thought of them as friends, and unknowingly helped them.

Another one of them, a woman who had brought bread to the temple every morning for twenty years, opened her mouth to scream, but no voice escaped. The jaws broke with a clattering noise; bones escaped through her body.

One tried to run; his legs moved, but his body couldn’t follow. He fell, reaching for anything in front of him; his hand touched the stone but couldn’t hold on longer. His joints twisted, and the cultist cried out in a guttural tone. The bones snapped and pierced through his body.

Mo Fei and others came out of the temple and heard the screams of unfolding chaos. Mo Fei tapped his temple; threads scattered everywhere, dozens of dull ones he couldn’t see before now flowed.

"What’s happening!" Zhuo’s throat sank at the sight.

Lin grabbed Hao Yu and Xin Yi, and pulled them closer. "Don’t look."

Hao Yu’s face was pressed into Lin’s hanfu, but his shoulders were shaking. Xin Yi watched without blinking. Her hand found her sleeve.

Jian Yue’s eyes swept over the traitors. "Their limbs disappeared... That pressure in the air." He glanced at the temple.

Zhuo turned. "What?"

"A God helped them."

Zhuo sat down, blade across his knees. The screaming stopped; the green grass of the ground was tainted with blood now.

The robes of the dead soaked in the blood, covered the ground like a wet bedsheet. Mo Fei’s eyes caught a glimpse of a spirit thread. His lungs burnt and coughed out blood, even his good eye bled, and he fell on his knees.

Jian Yue caught him. "What happened?" Mo Fei breathed heavily, his hand covering his mouth, the blood dripping on his hand.

"That thread..." Mo Fei gasped, his hands dropped, and he closed his eyes. "That must be the Goddess."

"Mo Fei, don’t look at the Gods again. Their identity is incomprehensible..." Jian Yue’s voice lowered. "You were spared by Her for looking; it is already a second chance."

The silence grew further. Mo Fei’s hand dropped from his temple.

The traitors’ bodies vanished like smoke in the wind. The only thing that was left behind was the wet ground, where ten traitors had stood.

A few cultists dropped to their knees. They bowed their heads to the Goddess. Looking around showed that standing was now no longer something they deserved.

The children pressed closer.

Yi Jyuhan emerged from the temple. His face was pale and hands were steady inside his robes. He looked at the bloody ground, then at the children and the cultists.

"They were dead puppets of the Curator of Flesh before She pulled out the strands," he said in a quiet voice. "The corruption was inside them for weeks. Months, perhaps." He lingered with his eyes on them.

Jian Yue’s hand tightened on his blade. "Killed them?"

Yi Jyuhan shook his head. "No, freed them." Yi Jyuhan met his eyes. "There’s a difference."

Hao Yu’s voice came from Lin’s shoulder, muffled and small. "Were they bad people?"

Lin tapped her arm, thinking of an answer. "They were... people who made bad choices."

"By their own choice?"

Xin Yi finally looked away from the empty robes and spoke. "They are gone, right?"

Yi Jyuhan turned to face the group. His face was calm, but his eyes held the glint of something unsettling. "There will be more," he said. "The corruption doesn’t end with these bodies. And he has a threadbinder artifact... He certainly knows where we are."

Jian Yue fixed the sheath of his blade. "Then we need to find him soon."

"You can’t." Yi Jyuhan’s voice was gentle with an honest reminder. "The artifact is under the Fleshweaver cult’s control."

"Then what do we do?" Zhuo asked. Yi Jyuhan looked at the sun, sinking toward the horizon. "I don’t have the pages of your Authority... But–" He paused.

"But?" Jian Yue repeated.

"But I know that an Arbiter of Motion page is in the continent of Misfortune." He took another pause. "But I’m not certain about the number."

"This is all we need." Jian Yue looked at Zhuo and nodded at him with a mutual plan for the next steps.

Suddenly Mo Fei’s voice cut through the air: "Where are Alisa and Lovenia? I haven’t seen them anywhere since we left the temple."

Zhuo scanned the place, and noticed them helping a few cultists. He saw them talking about something before Lovenia pointed toward the temple’s backyard. When he looked there, he saw nothing, but Lovenia walked toward it, and Alisa waited while encouraging the other cultists.

He stared at her for a few moments before his eyes moved back to the group. "There."

Lin looked at the location and immediately sensed an unknown presence, as if something had the presence of a disease. "Mo Fei, try seeing there."

Mo Fei kept clenching his throat, wiping the blood from his face. "I can’t..."

Jian Yue studied Lin’s expression. "I’ll go and see. Wait here."

Yi Jyuhan peered at the backyard and then, with a brief glance at Jian Yue, he walked. "I’ll join."

Jian Yue gave a small nod, and both moved to talk tk Alisa, who was preparing for others to go inside again.

"Alisa," Yi Jyuhan called out and stopped near her.

She walked toward them. "Your faces are pale," she said with a chortle. "Got scared from the deaths?"

Yi Jyuhan scratched his head. "No, the Keybearer felt the presence of someone from the backyard where Lovenia had gone."

Her expression dropped subtly when she heard this. "Wha–? What?" She turned toward the backyard, trying to walk calmly. Jian Yue and Yi Jyuhan followed.

"Lovenia!" She called out. "Lovenia, can you hear me? Come back here." In the backyard, they saw her sitting looking at something. "Lovenia!" When Alisa shouted. Lovenia flinched and looked back.

"What happened?" Lovenia asked.

"Did you find the cat?"

Lovenia shook her head before standing up. "I think there is nothing."

Jian Yue stepped forward. He observed the backyard before he shrugged and shook his head. "It must have escaped." Yet his eyes betrayed him, and he kept looking at Lovenia. Even though she was acting the same as before, the silence between her words were heavy.

Though they still walked back, Jian Yue remained silent. When they reached back to the group. Zhuo and Mo Fei were leaning against the wall, and both children were sitting beside them quietly, their hands was on their knees.

When Zhuo’s eyes landed on Jian Yue, who looked like he was reading a book no one else could see, his gaze was distant.

Alisa’s focus riveted on the sky. The night was dazed, stars forming lines of different shapes. "It’s night... You should get a room for rest."

Everyone looked at her and nodded. After all, tomorrow could be another exhausting day.

Yi Jyuhan put his hand on his chin. "That’s right..." He walked toward the temple. "It’s already night. First eat something, then sleep. Death is certain in this fight. Hahah." He chuckled loud enough for others to hear, but the sound died quickly as no one joined him.

They’d seen too much to laugh about dying even as a joke.

Jian Yue face-palmed at his words, though he understood the weight behind them; even as a joke, they were true.

***

Xue Lan stood apart from the crowd, his hands inside his robe. The shard in his pocket remained warm. The corruption that had been in the cultists was the same as the shard. "So it’s made from the same power." Xue Lan thought.

He looked at the bloodsoaked robes of the dead cultists. The chaos had ended, but the aftermath still stuck in the air, as if there were fragments of screaming in the silence.

"Not even a week," he murmured. "And they’re already inside." Xue Lan walked toward a place. In a quiet room, he sat down on a cushion and took out the shard from his pocket.

Xue Lan’s hand traced the shard, a rock painted in light grey. It was dull with no sign of glow, yet it pulsed like an alive thing.

"Interesting." He put the shard on the table before standing up. His legs moved toward the built-in. Xue Lan picked up the knife, then mirror resting there, waiting to be used. Afterward, he moved to a larder, and there he picked up a bottle filled with blood and a pouch with salt.

Xue Lan quietly sat down near the table. He put the items there and stared for a while, his eyes glued on the shard. Then he picked up the salt pouch. His fingers dug inside it, and he poured the salt in the shape of a circle.

His hand moved to the bottle of blood, and he poured the blood on the circle, making two lines crossing each other to the center.

Xue Lan’s movement made no sound, his expression remained calm, as if he had done this countless times. Then he put the shard in the center of the circle. The shard, unmoving from the table, lay there; between the lines, it looked like the most precious thing.

Then he slowly picked up the knife and raised it to his thumb and swiftly made a clean cut... drops of his own blood fell. He moved his hand above the shard and let it drop on it. The shard turned crimson red, bathing in the blood of a Dreamer.

After that Xue Lan adjusted the mirror, pointing it at the shard. Then he flicked his thumb at the mirror; the drops of his blood scattered, blood drops racing toward the ground as if running away.

He cut off a part of his robe and covered the shard. "Artifact 0-22, I awakened you to share your wisdom." From beneath the table he took out a packet of sticks.

A few moths appeared; they reached toward the fire pots, and their wings ignited with the fire. On their burning wings, they flew back to Xue Lan, who raised the sticks and transferred the flame to them. The moths disappeared again.

Xue Lan then ignited the piece of fabric covering the shard and called out again. "Artifact 0-22, I’m awakening you to give me what I want."

The fabric caught flame, though it was small, as if unsure it was allowed to burn. The flame began to burn the edges of the cloth, blackening the shard beneath.

Xue Lan watched silently. His hands remained steady on his knees. His breath was slow, like someone who had learned patience where impatience could lead to death. Xue Lan’s gaze briefly shifted to another bowl; inside was... The ’Original Eye,’ but he had to wait for that. He looked back again at the mirror.

The mirror didn’t answer. How could an object answer? Yet it listened... without ears.

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