Shape of Darkness: Moonlight's Touch

Note: This story is set in an alternate early 1900s world.

It was a beautiful day at the start of autumn—the wind was breezing, the water was chilling, and the sun was finally cooling after its long blaze upon the summer. Today was a perfect day to leave the house and enjoy a walk on the windiest day in the land known as Gold Creek.

In the far east of town, a lady had lived in a forest shrouding her home from the sun, protecting her from the summer for a long time. Now that the summer was gone, it was finally time for her to depart and shimmer again in the autumn’s daylight, starting from her decrepit bed.

“Uhm...” The girl left her bed tired as her clock went towards the cloud.

“Oh, it’s a bright day.” She looks through the window and sees how bright and warm the outside is.

“What a warm day to start your life...It’s warmer than it was many months ago...”

As autumn comes by the early September, the water from the river returns from upstream with a cold change from a blazing summer.

The scent of unroasted wood and falling leaves in autumn had never felt better during a bath. Even the librarian had never been so refreshed to wash herself since summer. But in a world filled with steam and oil machines, the smell of gears is fiercer and more inspiring.

Steam blows through her shower, a wonderful product of the future for the town. If only it didn’t take her an entire furnace to heat it up.

“How ludicrous.” She looks again at the mirror, and nothing has changed. But now she looks refreshed and ready.

“Do I need to clip my nails? I guess not.”

“Teeth? I don’t have time!” She drops the toothbrush in a hurry.

But autumn is only the second thing she loves because the lady’s favourite thing to do is reading. She loves reading so much that she became a librarian to learn more about the world. And a good librarian always wears eyeglasses to show their intellect.

“There...now I can see better...”

“I hope I didn’t have to change the prescription again...”

“Though I wonder what else would’ve cause my sight to change again?”

The librarian is a wonderful woman. She was always curious, with doubts reserved for those she could seek out and answers she wanted to journey through.

The curiosity of a woman like her was astounding, always asking and always seeking. There’s no limit to what she couldn’t ask, for hope is merely a vague confidence in a statement, and she prefers a real answer of the world than an expectation.

“What happened with Crackcore again? Another sickness? Of course...” She read the newspaper. Not much good news inside.

“I need to find out what happened there so I could make a report out of it before tomorrow...”

“Oh, and of course...it’s the day...” She looked at the calendar.

Sadly, not all answers can save her as it does for her curiosity. Today was not a good day for her either, and it wasn’t because of a false answer. Rather, something else was clinging in her head that had been past due the deadline, and it was not doing well.

“You have been warned, Ms. Ainsley. And yet you haven’t paid your rent. I expect this room to be empty by tomorrow.”

“Shit...” She holds the envelope tightly, discarding yet another mail to a pile beside the table.

“I better start finding a new house before I had to take the other option...”

“I can’t lose this home...”

The librarian walked out of her house with hope that today would be the same as it was with her and the town. Warm breeze doesn’t always mean a good thing for her, and the temperature is too cold for her to walk out without her blue coat. Mighty is the colour of a blue that makes a wise man appear high like the sky.

“*Breath* It’ll be fine...it’ll be fine....it’ll be fine...it’ll be—”

“Hey, Eve! Ready to walk, friend?”

The forest of the Eastwood is thick enough to hide the sun, but too cold to give the librarian clarity out of the thicket. But that’s when the second sun shone upon her in the form of a man, guiding the wanderer like a friend. His name is Cyrus Beth.

The sun was shining so bright today, or at least that’s what everyone always said about the priest. Merely a man, but always a spotlight. One didn’t always have to call him a priest all the time. Sometimes, you could call him a cleric.

☀️: “Thought I didn’t see you there?”

🌙: “As if I ever hide from you, old man?”

☀️: “Don’t call me that! We’re both a new money. Barely hitting my 30s without my buddy here...”

A friend always walked with their other friend. In this long path to the other side of the town in Eastwood, there was only chatter for the librarian and the cleric. But the librarian’s face was pale as the snow, doubting at something more important.

☀️: “You look pale today, Eve. Anything’s on your head?” Cyrus glances slowly at her face.

🌙: “What? Oh, it’s nothing. Really...” Eve replies.

☀️: “I don’t like that.”

Despite their different looks, the two of them still share the same level of respect for others. No one felt more superior here, and no one felt more questioned by another. It was peace, and always will be. There’s nothing to discriminate with faith, nor to judge with truth.

🌙: “You know, Cyrus? I’m glad you’re still here with me despite our differences...” Eve smiles. “In value and jobs.”

☀️: “Oh, please. I don’t judge...you don’t judge. It’s that easy, Eve.” He replies. “Though I don’t think you are aware we are dating?”

🌙: “I know. But the last man I acquintanted ditch me after one night. You’ve been with me for a year, and that’s...warm...”

☀️: “I pity you. My last boyfriend ditched me for a plate of corn two years ago. Can you believe that?” Cyrus replies. The two laugh.

The eastern forest soon left their eyes as they welcomed the city of Great Stone. From trees to rocks, boulders are scattered by the hill, birthing a plain yet messy town to visit. Rocks are standing as tall as a building, yet there’s no one as curious as the librarian to ask them. Their works are not meant to clash with one another, despite how opposing they could be.

🌙: “I wonder if you think my literature is a waste of time. I’ve seen nobody reading in my place again.” Eve laments with a frowny face.

☀️: “Why should I? Truth is always good for everyone, isn’t it?” He replies, trying to hide his suddenly surprised face from her.

🌙: “Obviously! So does faith to all that needed truce and...what is it again?”

☀️: “Hope?”

🌙: “Nope, the other one...”

☀️: “Perseverance?”

🌙: “No, no, the other one...the spirit of desire.”

☀️: “Motivation?”

🌙: “A bit like that! But another one...”

☀️: “Ambition?”

🌙: “Yeah! That’s it. Your faith is uplifting me with ambition...”

🌙: “Why didn’t they ever remove those boulders before? Are they aware that those things are...dangerous?” Eve and Cyrus stop to pander on a leaning boulder. One can say it would have fallen and crushed a man anytime.

☀️: “You wouldn’t remove a world’s wonder, aren’t you?”

🌙: “Of course not. But how much worth is the pain of getting crushed by that thing for a historical value? Some people here had no curiousity as I do.”

Such a small village to live on the side of this town. Yet somehow, there were no fights around for years for a place that looked desecrated and dusted by the land itself. Machines are not as advanced as many, so all things here are working with the old ways.

“Watch for the river, children!”

“Hey, can I have a share of water here?”

“Sure, anything for my neighbour...”

Windmills blow rapidly in the air, churning through the winds to power a wheel for irrigation. River is scarce, and there are only a few upstream taken off for the fortune of ‘lucky and privileged’ settlers. Robes are worn the same for everyone, and barely a face sticks out to her.

But there’s one thing that sticks differently in her eyes—faith. Faith is the power that grows here in the town for long, shaped in a circle of flame at the monument that stood before her eyes.

🌙: “Hm...” Eve observes the monument. A bowl of fire for a symbol of faith.

☀️: “What’s the matter? You don’t like it.”

🌙: “No, no. It’s just...a beautiful wonder for this town. Too bad the autumn would’ve snuff it out again.” She teases.

☀️: “Ha! As if!” The cleric laughs.

It’s not the first time she sees it, but it’s also not the first time she has ever felt satisfied by it. Great Stone is not as good as it used to be, nor has it ever been good for her. Faith dominates so many minds in here that a thinker like her couldn’t exist whole and equal to others. There’s barely a space for her to be seen.

“Greetings, Mr. Beth!” Monks walked by her without even a glance. She was away from their eyes.

☀️: “Greetings for you too, Mr. Zandel.”

🌙: “Hey! Watch where you’re going! You almost splashes my boots with your muddy shoes!”

☀️: “They must have been on a trip from Wellspring.” Cyrus replies.

The librarian always felt so lonely, as if nobody had ever been so insightful as the cleric. “But what gives?” She always asks herself when she sees people ignoring her. Being a librarian in the land of believers weakens her very presence as a human. Yet she wanders still, despite all the bitterness and ignorance a woman could ever have.

☀️: “Alright, buddy. See you at dusk when you’re done! As usual, I’ll pay for the dinner!” Cyrus walked away.

🌙: “Thank you...” Eve waved weakly.

As soon as they reached the town already, the librarian and the cleric parted ways from this path after they reached their destination, where one headed for the church to gather his people for a sermon. And the other went to the library to serve a lesson to those in need within the Great Stone.

*Click* “Alright! Welcome—Welcome. Come get your free boring books here...”

The library is empty, never to have a guest for long. Void expands easily, and the echoing sound bouncing from wall to wall slowly fades into an uncomfortable faint. No believers want to be enlightened through the ways of truth and scrolls. Everyone wants to learn through one’s equal belief.

“Darn me. Library's getting empty since Cyrus declares the new law. What am I to expect from this town?” She checked every shelves, but find so little of knowledge being borrowed. Nobody wanted to witness the true faith at all.

“Nobody has ever bought a book here! Grr! Damn me!”

It was the unluckiest day of her life. There’s no doubt that the librarian is about to become a null among the people. No visitors, no friends, and barely a place on this hill to comfort herself. If only there were one way for something to change.

The librarian felt hopeless, unsure of what was left in her life, with the lack of fortune and answer in her favour. She was ready to take one last misfortune and accept the silence. Until...

“I’m doomed! I have nothing in here...” She complained. “Damn me, I would do anything for a chance to—”

*BOOM*

A thunder blast blasted through her ears like the roar of a lion, screaming through the entire town for a second. There was silence, but then there was something worse than what the librarian could’ve thought. The autumn suddenly didn’t feel as calm as it should.

“Aah!” Eve snaps.

“What the...”

Not even the believers were brave enough to ignore the heavy thunder. The sky is as dark as the night. Civilians are scattered outside their homes, raising their arms as if expecting a drizzle. Confusion soars among those who believed in the sun, as they lost their light in something else but darkness.

“Eve!”

🌙: “Cyrus? Did you see this? Everyone was—”

“Cowering? Yes, I see that. But I don’t think this is a normal storm...” Cyrus mumbled.

🌙: “How? Storm does come unexpectedly...sometimes...”

“But not with a dark cloud and an intense wind! No drizzle, too! It’s like something worse is about to come! It’s—”

??: “Disaster! Mayhem! Chaos!”

A scream of a man echoes through the town, turning everyone’s eyes to the north, where they see a man in a red robe holding a cane coming towards them with a bell that rings with each step. His face is shrouded in his veil, but it was no doubt that he is no man of this town nor this land.

His clothing, poor as a beggar, but rich with the past. There’s mould, stain, and a cloth that didn’t come close to a believer. From the voice, he sounded like a dying old man, begging for his life. But he was begging for the other’s life.

??: “Citizens! Heed my warning! My only and last warning!”

??: “Dangers to all of you! Madness even! Beware! Beware!”

In a prophetic tone, he stands as a doomsayer through the ears of the Great Stone dwellers. He warns the town of a calamity at the edge of their foot, coming to sweep their beloved homes into yet another dust to bite. A fear even strikes him as he had said to witness in another town, and only he remains to supposedly save this town.

??: “Your town is in danger. You might have seen that the clouds were moving against the tide this morning, and your kids crying in your home looking for the comfort of their mother.”

??: “But these clouds are not just a passing storm. These clouds are an omen coming to take your lives! I have heard of them from afar at the other side of the town.”

??: “These dark clouds are tearing through their homes and leaving them in shambles. Many had died, and those who survived—they couldn’t warn the others.”

??: “Like the storms that are passing you by now! I have come to bring you the truth! I am your truth! And the truth is, your town is destined to death.”

🌙: “W-what?” Eve stares in confusion.

The man warned of five omens to come. Faith will cease as the clouds turned dark today, rain will undo the greatness, sands will erode the foundation, snow will cfear, and something would’ve come to silence the town on the last day—untold.

??: “Fear not, as I came here to bring you salvation. With my intellect and wisdom, I could save your town from this calamity at once! Lend me your voice and I shall bring prosperity and freedom forward!”

Yet despite so many words uttered from his mouth, not one person would ever believe him. Even the librarian and the cleric laughed at the content of his words—all blank and groundless. Everyone was laughing at the man for his ridiculous words.

“Hahahaha!”

“How ridiculous! A deadly storm? Oh, please!”

“Gold Creek might be a small town, but ain’t no clouds could do such horror!”

“Leave this town, false prophet!”

🌙: “I can’t believe there’s such a thing coming from his mouth.” Eve jokes. “Does he think we’re stupid? Even the dumbest devotee would not fall for that empty of a word.”

☀️: “Hah, yeah...” Cyrus stares at Eve.

But just as the world was laughing around him, that for the darkest day for Great Stone to become even darker. It was night than even a night, and the fire was not burning bright at all. The people are left confused by the daylight they’ve lost.

*BOOM*

🌙: “Aah! What the?!” Eve yelled.

☀️: “Ouch! My ears! My ears!” Cyrus closes his ears.

*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*

“Ahh!!!”

Thunder roars across the town, and no light or home is bright enough to save the civilians. The melody is too terrifying for a passing weather. And with only darkness across miles, the town could do nothing but stand in the centre along with the prophet in his red robe while watching the thunder fall.

*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*

🌙: “Cyrus, did you see this? I’m not dreaming, am I?”

☀️: “I...I don’t know...I really don’t know...” he mumbled in fear.

☀️: “Eve, what’s happening?? I can’t...I can’t think...”

🌙: “Cyrus, it’s only a storm. Quit it!”

🌙: “I can’t...it’s too loud! Too loud!!”

Yet in that walking chaos, the librarian could only see the beautiful gaze of a world beyond just a mere faith. There was anarchy, and everyone was as weak as a sheep, while she was as brave as she was curious to watch the storm striking down.

For once, there is something more to her eyes than a fire. There’s lightning, but not just ordinary lightning. It’s thunder with a sense of authority without control. Yet its power still shook even the most faithful of all.

*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*

🌙: “It’s loud. But it’s beautiful...”

“The sky is falling!!!”

“Aaah!!!”

☀️: “Woah.” She could only say.

When the storm calms, but the world still darkens, the librarian stands out of the crowd and walks forward to the prophet with a gleam in her eyes. As the prophet stood unfazed by the anarchy, the librarian’s face had never been so enthralled to walk forward. Curiousity got the best of her.

☀️: “Eve, what are you doing?” Cyrus asked from the crowds.

🌙: “Tell us...” She said. “Tell us how we could save ourselves now, prophet...”

🌙: “I need to know. I am dying to know...”

-

🌙: “Oh, what a wisdom...what a light bestowed upon us...” Eve kneels, crying with tears of happiness.

🌙: “After all these years. We are returning to the age of darkness once again.

In the librarian’s gaze, the sky is no fearful matter. Her curiousity has never spiked this much ever since she left her hometown. Bewildered by the prophet’s miracle, she was on her knees, with her eyes open as she fell in amazement.

🌙: “But why...? How can I not see this revelation? Cyrus, can you believe it?” Asked Eve.

☀️: “I...I...I can’t believe it!” Cyrus panicked. “Why? Why has this happened to us? What did we do??”

Not one single person had dared to be silenced with the thought of their ends. The gospel always spreads swiftly in the Great Stone and Eastwood. And with that, panic spreads widely into her home, where the trees are no longer as silent as they used to be.

“Fear your days, everyone! We are a lamb! A lamb for sacrifice!”

“The Fire Son has abandoned us! We are forsaken for good!”

“Our faith has failed us! We are failures! We have nothing!”

She was more serious than ever, and still could not comprehend the terrifying darkness that surrounded the sky. For now, the clouds might only thicken as an obstruction of reality and correctness, yet one can only hope that when the sun is fully absorbed into nothing, there will still be life around.

🌙: “That’s strange...the cloud activities here aren’t compatible with my study...”

🌙: “If my study from two days ago were right about the clouds reading, we weren’t supposed to have an intense storm in the early autumn!”

☀️: “Then maybe there’s something wrong with your lesson, darling. Because even the sky had a different plan...” Said Cyrus.

🌙: “Is it...? I’d seen better insults than that, priest.”

In her quest for wisdom, she sees the cleric struggling to make faith. Though he was calm, his head was not where the librarian thought it was. The once perfect place he had led slowly drifted away from his image so easily, and the librarian can only sympathise with her very truthful presence.

☀️: “E-Eve...you don’t think that the prophet’s words was right...right? It could be a coincidence, right...?”

🌙: “I don’t know. That’s what I want to find out...”

☀️: “What do you mean? Y-you don’t believe me?”

🌙: “Well, I—”

Bwoosh! For the librarian, she had too much on her head to think. For her to understand the doom, she had to watch the fire run around the town first to see the people’s genuine answer to their inevitable doom. But the cleric did want to stay.

☀️: “I got to go! Something’s not right on the town now! Thanks for the help, Eve!”

☀️: “But I had people to guide! See you later at night if I make it!”

The librarian wandered into the Great Stone once again, seeing the aftermath of the storm fading the torches, where their ashes leak into the bark of the tree, staining the name of the town in black. Black, like the darkness that shrouded every belief and expectation here.

🌙: “Wait, prophet! I have a question! Wait, can you tell me more about—huh?”

In her trail of curiousity, she sees the light of the monasteries shining like it never used to be. A clash of faith against doubt sparks onto the windows, dragging the librarian’s already curious head for another. And from there, she had seen the followers in their most faithful stance, begging and praying with all the remains of the sun.

“Oh, Fire Son! Oh, why have thou abandoned us? Why? Shall you not be tempted upon our words, then let us know!”

“Oh, Fire Son! Must we suffer now when we had always called your name again and again? Was it your name that didn’t seeded far into the land below that you punish us?”

“Or was it our children whom you’ve envied with? The one born from the womb of a believer, who is destined to follow your path in the future when their carrier fell as a dust to your skin?”

“Must we punish them for their disservice? Their negligence? Their immoral manner? Tell us, Son! Tell us what hurt your feelings to condemn us!”

They begged its image, for its body was shrouded away in the clouds. As the sky darkens, so do their minds. The totem of their belief clutched tightly on everyone’s grip, as a cry of fear could be heard loudly in the librarian’s ears. The devotees were reflecting on their mistakes, but it was too late.

“This must be your fault, children!! You have disappointed him, and now he condemn us!”

“How long has it since we ever prayed kindly to him? To thank him? And to praise his name every time a good deed was done?”

’None! None of us had ever! We were so foolish!”

From faith turns to hatred and doubts, the weapon that the librarian was familiar with. The silence became the weapon that the priest had used upon his own children. His children, that was born from his belief, had also used his robe against him.

“What about you, then? You didn’t even show up at the ceremony three days ago! You know, the Dawn-bringer ceremony that is very important for all of us!”

“You failed us, priest! You failed yourself as you did to the Fire Son!”

“You are no better than us! You are a coward!”

The librarian watched as the priest struggled to claim the remains of his dominance in this holy place against his children. His voice echoes as loudly as he can, trying to refute his children’s doubt again and again, but his hands are silent. And the children’s hands are very open—open to their own. For they also claimed his dominance for themselves.

“I am a better man in this world! I have prayed, fasted, and even scorched myself in the blessing of the Fire Son more than you! I am not to blame!”

“I am the pure child! My family has recite the scriptures three times every day, and my neighbors has been supplied with my support twice a week!”

“I am the righteous one! My friend, whom I helped for years from the grip of Frayfoil’s false teaching, has been converted into this church because of my preach! I taught him compassion, where his ‘curiousity’ had once corrupt his moral! And now, he find solace in his faith!”

How can it not be more ironic? Faith that once linked these people as one house now splits them into many bricks again. For as their god had abandoned them, the sheep no longer had a purpose to unite as they used to. Now, the only faith they believe is survival. And to survive is to educate oneself from lies and mistrust. Truly, the librarian couldn’t laugh more.

🌙: “My, what a sorrowing end to your favourite place, Cyrus. When the darkness struck them, what happened now? Because it seems that they are all desperate...”

🌙: “I hope he was here to see this...”

🌙: “Prophet! Prophet! Wait!”

The librarian continues to follow the prophet’s trail, the chaos he had made by his own words. To say that she was neutral to his presence was such an underestimation of her curiousity. She was so fascinated by what he had brought into the town that it finally set the false confidence into a better light for truth to replace it. But to say that the prophet is the carrier of doom is also an exaggeration.

🌙: “Prophet! Wait, I need to know the truth!”

🌙: “Tell me more! Please!”

No matter how the librarian sees it, it wasn’t enough. A simple sunless day immediately undid everything that the librarian had taken months to do. Teaching the people of the idea to be curious about their lives, to fear the oncoming danger, and to ask oneself about the possibility of leaving the wall once.

Yet doubt didn’t give them curiousity to think like her.

“Augh...huhuhu...what do we do now?? Huhuhu...”

“Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Everything I did for him was for nothing??”

“What’s the point of living? Why didn’t I just accept my defeat instead? I’m better with that, don’t I?”

Shrines were torn from the town. It would’ve been a shock, but nothing of value is lost within. As the sacrifice comes only from a handful of wheat, a piece of old clothes from a passing relative, and a flower plucked before its blooming season. All were given every year in a respective season, according to the so-called believers.

“Tear off the shrines! What’s the point of holding it back anyway!?”

“I’ve sacrificed everything! I have! Why did he ignored our gift??”

“He had forsaken us because he hated our gift! Our gift that comes from our heart!”

The librarian was drawn to one of the offerings—a vase stained with mould but carved with a history of the Founding Fathers. What could such a historical object be used for here? The content was nothing but dust, and there is a shatter where faith can’t fix.

🌙: “Prophet! Prophet!”

🌙: “Ugh, why did he had to be so fast...? Don’t he have anyone to talk to?”

🌙: “What’s the point of chattering the doom if you’re not going to elaborate?”

For the third time, the librarian was brought into another turn of a tide. The houses—particularly one house with the layers of Fire Son’s fingerprint—were now scorched in fire along with the house that holds it. But instead of crying for the loss, the family laughs at the destruction, dancing maddeningly.

“HAHAHAHA!”

“HAHAHAHA! Look at the fire! The Fire Son is dancing upon us!”

“Don’t worry, children! He’s still with us! His fire is still shining with grace!”

“YAY!! We love you, Fire Son!”

They see the fire as the Fire Son’s only presence. The seemingly eternal but soon-to-be snuffed flame, waving through the treasures that he gifted the children upon, is now turned into the sacrificial medium for the god to connect. A dishonour of his name, for the sake of warmth, the sky couldn’t give any more.

🌙: “What? What is this...? Is this what they call faith? The one that rivals the truth and seekers were nothing more but a slug in a civilisation?”

🌙: “Nothing...nothing but a coward’s attempt to disguise comfort as a belief.”

🌙: “If one can believe, then why one can’t act upon its belief?”

It makes the librarian ask herself—What is it that people do for their beliefs? If all these three things were the very things they do to please their god, then they have truly nothing to teach but self-indulgence. Truly, a doubt to seed her mind about trusting these people.

The prophet was gone, so the librarian had none to be shown again. But it was already enough to tell her everything. There’s no point in teaching a derelict to move a muscle when duties are not perceived upon their belief.

Now it makes more sense! The reason why the librarian could not impress these believers long ago is that they never believed! This is the answer, and the answer was given rightfully by a man who acts upon his duty—the prophet of truth and doom.

🌙: “Oh, prophet. You may have not yet to answer my question for this doom...”

🌙: “But you have revealed to me of your power and answer so that I can finally rest in peace in this world, knowing the truth.”

🌙: “Years have I thought that these people were true believers, like those who gave their flesh and blood for the truth so that they can perserve evidence...”

🌙: “Where their faith was so easily taken their minds, washing the child off of curiousity and planted them with a false confidence...”

🌙: “Where we could’ve had those who explore the land outside the wall...”

Tears of joy and disbelief flowed into her eyes, glancing at the sky of Gold Creek while all hell broke loose. She had never felt so happy to witness history before her eyes. All revealed to her by fear, and fear eventually revealed to her.

🌙: “But no...” Eve muttered. “Nothing of this speaks of anything but excess to aversion. To ignore your reason, to claim it as a duty, but not to do it. Truly, the Fire Son was nothing more but a fraud...”

🌙: “My people have always been right! The seekers are always the chosen ones!”

As happy as the librarian feels to be proven, she still could not accept her fate yet. Now that her lifetime question has been answered for her, she has one left to ask—is the doom truly inevitable? It has yet to be true.

🌙: “I must escape this place...” She pauses. “I must escape this place now!”

🌙: “But where...where should I—the wall...”

🌙: “The wall! Yes, that’s the only way we can escape! The wall! Haha!”

“The answer is the wall!!!” Eve screamed. Chaos is paused momentarily before it continues behind her back. But she cares not, for she had already found what she needed.

So the librarian quickly left the town and headed further west, leaving the Great Stone and its disorder done. She had found what she had never thought to be an answer until now. With all said, she must continue her curiousity into the outside world.

The hill slowly turned into a coast, sand piling above the grasses and old houses welcoming her eyes. This place is ancient, that’s what she can deduce from the looks. No one from this town had ever been through this side, especially since the border was thick. And yet, not a place for a thought to be made outside of this wall.

🌙: “There it is...”

Before the thick granite wall lies a huge crack, as if made by a human. But the crack is too small, not enough to fit anything through, like the librarian. However, it never stops her from trying again, carrying the same spoon and crushing off every bit of granite until she can make it past the other side.

🌙: “I’m glad they didn’t fix it. But how long do I need to be here for this wall to be broken at last?”

🌙: “So how am I supposed to do this...?”

🌙: “Can I really do it? I doubt I could even do so myself...”

The wall was thick; breaking it wouldn’t be enough even if she had years to do so. The librarian kept using the same spoon, tearing off the stone by the same brute force, piece by piece, to entertain herself. For months, her curiousity cost only a dent in the wall enough to fit her body, but not for long.

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

🌙: “Come on...come on...! I need to see the outside! Come on...”

🌙: “There must be an answer out there! Must be!”

🌙: “I know there was one! There’s no reason they would made this wall if there’s nothing out there.”

Clack! She tried her best, but eventually it was time for the spoon to wear out. Broken and split, just the librarian’s determination to continue. The wall is still thick, and there seems to be no time left for her. Even if she tried to reunite the spoon’s head, there would be no time for her to continue.

🌙: “Oh...I see...”

🌙: “Well, I...I still have tomorrow! I still! I know it! I just...”

🌙: “I just have to continue! Just had to! I can prove it to them that I was right!”

🌙: “I’ll find another spoon! I’ll find the answer! And whatever lies in that wall won’t hide for long!”

The sky is dark, and the wall still stands. The librarian sees it for herself that the only thing that stands between her and the answer is the thick granite of ignorance and fear. Years of curiousity had brought her to this wall again and again, wondering what was hidden behind and the secrets from the Founding Fathers’ idea that could kill.

Because truth is never true, unless it was found.

-

[4 days before the Sweep]

It was fascinating. The morning was not as bright as it used to be. Sun has never shone this dim for a dawn, and it’s not something a citizen would miss. The morning dew was doomed without a humid drop, and the fire was dancing in panic.

The day the librarian was awakened by the unusual clouds in the sky, she had already felt its difference across the town. Waking up from her rusty bed had never felt so comfortable before. It’s as if everyone finally felt the terror she had endured before. The fear, the panic, and the haunting dread.

🌙: “Hm. Cowards...” She said as she held the note stuck to the front of her apartment. The warning is blank as the threat.

🌙: “Looks like I still have more time to stay, then. But what the hell would I do for the rest of these four days now?”

If the prophecy was true, then flee was all they could do. Panic is as framed as the prophet for the darkest day, where faith dwindles without guidance. There’s nothing to do here but to lose the very land that she had lived in for long. She could see the clouds triumphant against the sun, claiming the world dark with thunder.

🌙: “Alas, we’re all joyous and festive. Aren’t we?”

🌙: “Today, we’re about to be a big family in this town. And I’ll be the adopted one.”

As yesterday was dark, today was even darker. The sun doesn’t shine anymore, and there’s a chirp and grunt among the clouds, gossiping about possible destruction by a strike from above. As the prophet had said, the storm would ruin the greatness.

🌙: “Huh, what does that mean...? Greatness?”

🌙: “How could a storm ruin such? Ugh, the thought of it confuses me...” She depart to Great Stone.

A broken place detached from its old meaning. Great Stone is not as luminous as it was before her departure. As darkness seeps into every light in the town, there has never been a brighter place here than the librarian’s home. But luckily, the librarian’s always brought herself a torch to light up in the dark.

There was screaming and panic, but the librarian couldn’t tell where it come from. Every corner her ears captured is as loud as the mildest chatter behind her ears. It’s like the only doubt that remains, latching onto the remains of everyone’s mouth to keep the town alive.

“Do you know what happened in the Wellspring? I heard all the people were already leaving the town! Without us!”

“Impossible! Where else would they be by now? Are you listening to yourself?”

“How about the wall? Rumour has it that the wall is protecting us. I heard the disaster wouldn’t make it past the wall! Praise the Founding Fathers!”

The librarian was not easily fooled, but they do speak a sweeter lie when they are not preaching. Rumours replace the lies, and questions replace the clarity. But that is still a pure yesterday’s hollowness, where the devoted and believers are still empty of belief.

Yet when the world is in its darkest place, one flame shone unbroken. She can recognise that golden amice everywhere, and it glitters between the brick walls of Great Stone, searching and wandering for a soul still hopeful and filled with confidence to move.

☀️: “Silence! Silence! Enough with the lies! No more lies! Do not preach lies into the house of Fire Son! You are not worthy of his! Shame on you! Shame on all of you! Fall now, and submit before he turned his back against us!”

“He already turned his back on us! What’s the purpose of apologising to him now??”

“Give it up, priest! He won’t hear you, either! We are abandoned, you hear me?”

“Why did I even trusted you? You can’t even save us with your words! You are nothing!”

“You’re nobody! You’re not even our father! You’re never going to be anyone!”

“All the river is muttering your name! All the rocks are carved with your words!”

“We gave our blood and flesh to make everything you promise us!”

“Our crops are made in your design, and our clothes are tattered in your vision!”

“What is happening?? Why didn’t it help us!? Have we not done enough??”

☀️: “I...I can I can explain! There must be something wrong with the prophet! We can’t just believe him! He’s no man in this town!”

☀️: “What’s the point of trusting him? He could deceived—Aack!” He was struck halfway from his gospel with a rock.

“Deceived us...? Deceived us??”

“What did you think happened now, priest? Open your eyes!”

“Are you blind? Do you not see the sky? There’s no lies in that mouth of a prophet!”

“You’re a traitor! You were never a speaker of Fire Son at all! You were always be no one!”

☀️: “Please, listen to me! I can explain! This disaster is not possible! For what purpose are we forsaken into? Could it be that this is just a test from the Fire Son of our faith? To prove that we are all stronger than he think we are!”

☀️: “What if we were just being tested? What if this is his plan all along? To save us, to offer us a paradise, and to—woah!” Dodges Cyrus.

“We did everything you said! We pray, we offer, and we even discipline those who flouted us!”

“You promised my children! We read and kneel as you wished, when you said we can always pray for fortune in his name!”

“You liar! You said we can be saved! You said we are all fair in his name!”

“That’s it! We don’t want to be your followers anymore! You have nothing for us! We’re gonna die!”

☀️: “I can! I’ll prove it to you! I’ll show you! Just see, my children! We will be saved! I promise you!”

And the cleric descended from his throne, debauched and dishonoured from the amice. Rushing down the stairs with tears and sweat, he refused to fall. It means nothing for him to hold his amice anymore, yet it remains on his shoulder. A flesh of his, perhaps.

🌙: “Poor man...poor, poor man...”

Following his fall from grace, the librarian found the cleric, lamenting tearfully behind the curtains of his greatness as he tried to gather as many relics as he could. She knew what he was trying to do, and it was rather a foolish decision of his.

☀️: “I can...I can...*sobs* There must be a reason...a reason...why....?”

🌙: “If you think that raising that chalice would grant your followers back, then it would be a lost cause, Cyrus...” Said Eve from behind.

☀️: “Eve! Aha! Wait, no it’s Aah! Why did I mispell that?” He pauses. “I mean, w-what are you doing here? Don’t you have anything else t-to—w-worry? Like your...town?”

🌙: “Huh, they can handle that. But you seems unable to handle your own town. Just give it up, Cyrus...”

And so it was given up from his hands. The librarian watched as the cleric clung tightly to the copper bowl, where a mixture of gold liquid seemed to be in preparation. A fresh vapour exudes from the surface, all while a drip of tears and sweat follows from the cleric’s fingertips.

☀️: “I did everything. I don’t understand what makes us flawed and ended up like this, Eve...”

☀️: “How did I mess it up? How? I did everything to save them! We are all innocent! We did everything!”

☀️: “I enforce fairness for all! I supplied the misfortune, the hungry, and the unable ones with a shelter, a food, and a guidance!”

☀️: “I assure everyone is included in my reach equally, where one can always appear the same in the eyes of Fire Son just by one banner!”

☀️: “I enforce every citizen in Great Stone to always recite their one act of kindness every Sunday! Granting those who cannot hear our words with our ears!”

☀️: “I ensure a culture of gratitude in my teaching to children to avoid those in greed, sloth, and gluttony from growing. To make sure they can remember kindness more than they call one act of evil!”

☀️: “All of these actions were meant to be good-intended! How can Fire Son ignore the good we’ve done??”

🌙: “Did we? Or is it just you?”

☀️: “W-what do you mean?”

In that line between truth and faith, the librarian saw her words wisely. The cleric, whose eyes are fully closed, awaits an answer to his prayer while washing his hands with the gold water. But the librarian, knowing that truth would hurt him more than it would help her, kept it for herself. The priest yearned for the cleanliness.

🌙: “Nothing. I’m not sure what to say, either...” She changes her mind.

🌙: “But what do we have now, Cyrus? Are you not afraid that you cannot live further like me?”

☀️: “So what if I’m not? If they live from my death, and let it be! My children were not meant to see me like this! I failed them! I failed my own purpose, Eve!”

He had fallen for the first time, and it was too bitter for him. He felt as if his voice wasn’t his, whispering deceit and disgrace just as the citizens said about him. His greatest feat in the Great Stone was shattered because of one man’s telling. Something the librarian wishes to acquire.

For the man, drawn depressingly in his own faith, finds nothing but disgrace in his own works. The librarian sees the amice still gleaming, all while his hands, which were soaked in the gold paint, were now tainted in black.

☀️: “No, no, no, no...no!” He glances.

☀️: “*Sobs* It is true! I am impure! I am not worthy of a talk! I’m sorry!!!”

☀️: “*Sobs* Huhuhuhu...I’m sorry!”

Everything that the cleric had believed means nothing to him now. The so-called Fire Son abandoned the very child it had placed onto the Earth to trust, only for him to become nothing more than a blight. The day he had seen his colour fade, would the face of the sun revealed its true nature to him.

☀️: “All those prayers...all those masses...and all those choirs...”

☀️: “I thought...I thought I had a hold onto them.”

☀️: “When I was the one talking during the prayer, wasn’t I the one who spoke to the Fire Son himself? So why am I...silenced?”

☀️: “When I was the one holding the masses, wasn’t I the one who was tasked by Fire Son to judge? So why am I...guilty?”

☀️: “When I was the one leading with the wand for the choirs, wasn’t I the one who was given the lyrics? So why’s it...deaf?”

The cleric had seen it all. This is where he falls forever. Or is it?

🌙: “Come.” Eve offered him a scarf for his neck. “It’s cold outside...”

🌙: “W-where are we going...?”

🌙: “We’re going to find a truth, Cyrus. If we can’t convince the masses with our voices, it’s time we convinced them with a truth.”

🌙: “But my people...Eve, they—”

🌙: “Shh...your people will see...Soon enough. Come, I have something for you to help me with...”

Both she and the cleric worked together to make it through the wall, but only one was spirited enough to continue. Lamenting the fallen greatness he had once had, the cleric couldn’t even grasp the spoon without thinking of the broken piece of himself like those falling granites.

*Crack* *Crack* *Crack*

“Eve...I’m not sure if I can do this anymore.”

🌙: “I’m sure you can. Just pack the rubble aside if anyone asks what you’re doing.”

☀️: “No, I mean...I really can’t do this. What’s the point of this? Even if rules doesn’t mean anything for us, it doesn’t meant breaking them would do anything!”

🌙: “Like, what if it won’t mean anything for us? What if the Founding Fathers were right? Maybe we shouldn’t be out there for a reason?”

The wall was thicker than yesterday. The librarian wasn’t sure if it was because of her spoon breaking so easily, or that it was the fear that grows thicker. But now, it took more strength to make one chunk of greatness mean something for her.

🌙: “Urgh! Ugh! Come on...come on...why is it getting harder there? I swear it wasn’t that tough when I broke it!”

The effort was too thin, much as the cleric’s patience. There’s not enough evidence for him to see her success, as it seems that only the librarian was the curious one here. So before the two could make it to the wall, he was giving up—conceding his purpose.

☀️: “Enough! I’m done of this! I can’t do this anymore...!” Cyrus yelled.

🌙: “Cyrus, wait! Where are you going?”

☀️: “I’m leaving, Eve! If you think I’m going to spend my life cracking stones like this every day, then you better do it yourself!”

☀️: “What does this even meant for me anyway? You’re right, I might have nothing to prove you wrong anymore! My people left me, my shrine rejects me, and worse...the sun abandons me!”

Truly, he was at his lowest. The librarian was speechless. She cannot tell whether the priest was afraid or angry. She felt like it might be both.

☀️: “I don’t need this. I don’t need your stupid ‘truth’ to tell me what to do now!”

☀️: “Why do you want to prove me wrong, anyway? Does it not hurt me enough that I lose against my people? You won! So what’s now? Let me have a thought with my people! I need to save them...or...Or I need to be there!”

But the librarian, a friend of the cleric forever, was eager to give him her light. The darkest side of the day should be the brightest day for someone.

🌙: “Cyrus, do you really want to stay here and die for them? Do you really think it’s worth it to sacrifice yourself for people like them?” Eve pauses.

☀️: “Yes. Their blood and flesh are all worth every reason for me to stay! They are the people promised in eternal happiness, and now they died!”

🌙: “Well, are you really going to die with them without asking your god first?”

☀️: “Yes. W-wait, I mean...uhm...”

—

🌙: “Cyrus, between you and me, I want you to know that I would never look down on your reason to be who you are.”

🌙: “You make that choice, just as I made mine. You want to help, just as I want to for you. And you are here, just as I. If I was right about you, then why should I come to you in your darkest time? Do I have to?”

🌙: “I thought the same, you know? I don’t understand, either. I know you well since we met. There’s no reason that your god would’ve looked upon you like this and still abandon you!”

🌙: “And I think that’s really...stupid. Why did your god made you years of prosperity if he isn’t displeased with his chosen child?”

🌙: “Don’t you think it’s unfair that he abandoned you after he reap your reward? Don’t you think it’s unfair that he sent a man after your gospel spreads so strongly in six regions on this hill? Haven’t you ever asked yourself what if your god was the one who was at fault?”

🌙: “I want you to know that you need to look for yourself. We are wrong about everything, and we are not prepared for everything. The way we are given so many times and resources, wasted because we chose the simple ways...”

🌙: “And then, boom! He gave us five days! For what? What is his plan for you, Cyrus? Ask him!”

🌙: “I usually never said this to anyone, especially to a believer, because I’m a seeker who wanted nothing but truth. But you have to believe me. Because I’m doing this for the two of us...”

Never had the cleric felt better hearing her voice. This is why he loves her, for she knows where to move her heart to his ears. The cleric felt spirited again, as if ready to make himself a question to ask.

☀️: “Eve...” Cyrus whispers.

🌙: “Yes, Cyrus?” Eve blushes.

☀️: “Eve...”

🌙: “I know...I always think the same. Maybe we should—”

☀️: “EVE, WATCH OUT!”

BOOM! In a twist of a turn, the cleric quickly grabbed the librarian and dragged her away from the wall. One thunder struck through where they stood, banging with death. But they managed to evade it in time, hearing only the whispers.

“Woah! That was close, huh? I might have been awaken in another world, either way!”

☀️: “Wait, Eve, look!”

Before them, the wall from where they were working their way out carved a tunnel among the fallen rubble.