Chapter 500 – A Quiet Day
Chapter 500 – A Calm Day
Frost, inside the domed office of the city-state’s consul, Tirian was standing in front of the mirror, carefully organizing the medals and ribbons on his chest.
The one-eyed face was still cold, even a bit appalling, but the brand new consul’s uniform and those shining medals had somehow transformed this coldness into a trustworthy majesty – at this moment, the city was in need of a majestic consul.
Tirian exhaled softly and turned his head to the other side of the domed office.
Two undead sailors were hanging the new city-state flag on the wall, and next to it, a single line of powerful text remained as deeply inscribed next to the front door as it had been half a century ago:
“Keep as many people alive as possible.”
Tirion looked at those words in silence for a long time before nodding softly and walking towards the wide desk not far away – there was still a short time before the official event would begin, and he could still take that time to remember, organize the process he would have to go through later, or calm his emotions.
The complex lens set placed on the desk operated on its own, and the surface of the crystal ball at the center of the lens set glowed slightly, Lucrecia’s figure emerging from the shimmering light and looking Tirian up and down.
“This outfit suits you,” said the sea witch in a black dress, “and it matches the eyepatch.”
Tirian tugged at the buttons near his collar and gave his sister in the crystal ball a sidelong glance, “You’re here to flirt with me?”
“I was paying a compliment with all my heart,” Lucrecia said with a serious look on her face, “You haven’t been this conscientious about maintaining your image in years – that rough and purposefully intimidating pirate getup doesn’t really suit you at all. ”
“I may have to maintain that image for a long, long time in the future, until a more suitable consul comes along, or father makes other arrangements,” Tirian paused at that, “sooner or later, I’m going to miss those days of freedom and spontaneity.”
“At least not today,” Lucrecia said with a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth, “How’s it feel to be about to be sworn in as consul of a city-state? I hear you’re going to be taking a parade afterward to present yourself to the citizens?”
“The parade session is to settle people’s minds and convince them that order has been re-established and that there are still people in the upper echelons of the city-state who are still taking responsibility – while I don’t really like the session, it has its necessity,” Tirian said, ” As for what it feels like to be a consul ……”
He paused, and after a moment shook his head and continued, “I don’t feel much of anything, as the handover of work and team-building on the part of the Council of State has long since taken place, and I’ve already been busy as Consul up to this point, and today’s so-called ‘swearing-in’ ceremony is just a public-facing ‘process’ only.”
“Is that so? Well then, good luck with the process, old brother,” Lucrecia smiled, suddenly calling her so by the same name she had used many, many years ago, in both of their childhoods, followed by a slight pause and a serious expression, “Regarding the things that father has commanded, how are you preparing for them?”
“I’ve drafted a few secret letters to send to the other city-states, but the specifics still need to be worked out – to convey a warning, to make them realize the gravity of the situation, and to avoid ambiguity, to avoid redundant or overreaction from the other city-states, frankly, this kind of paperwork can be a lot more difficult than bringing a fleet to work with the Deep Sea Scions or other pirates in a dry run.”
“If you ask me, just make it clear and serious, the people who get to be consuls are smart anyway, or at least they should have enough smart people under them that they know how to react, you’re just giving them a heads up, it’s not like you’re babysitting them to teach them what to do to set up an ‘early warning mechanism’ ,” Lucrecia said casually, “I’m already going to approach the Explorers Guild – ha, I wonder how they’ll react then.”
“A warning from the Lost Country Fleet, to the entire civilized world,” Tirian intoned, “The last time something like this happened was a century ago.”
“…… Yes, when father first discovered the border collapse phenomenon in the ‘Inner Realms’,” Lucrecia spoke quietly, “I still remember the church bells ringing then, and the newspapers in every city-state discussing the warning signs from the great adventurer Duncan Ebnomar.”
“All these years have passed, and once again he gazes upon the ‘borders’ of this world, and history seems to return to its origins-perhaps in some sense the Lost Country was never lost, and its century in subspace was just some sort of voyage in a wider dimension that we cannot yet comprehend, and now it is back, with the light of a new voyage, as the mad poet Putman left the line, ‘They could once have traveled straight ahead in one direction until they rounded the backside of the world and came back to earth at a breathtaking angle’… …”
Tirion recited the historically famous dystopian verse softly, slowly rising from behind his desk, the sound of a band already looming outside the domed office, and the sound of footsteps coming from the direction of the corridor – the time had come for the city to meet its new consul.
“Come on, old man – and don’t forget my Spirit World Lens.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll remember it this time.”
……
The cold wind blew through the sparse bushes along the road, through the dark carved fences, through the silent tombstones and the empty mortuaries on both sides of the path, and finally faded away in the depths of the cemetery.
Two figures were slowly walking through the path in the cemetery.
One figure was exceptionally tall and lanky, wearing a pure black overcoat and a wide-brimmed hat that was also pure black, and the skin outside of his clothes was covered with layers and layers of bandages, which was intimidating to look at.
The other was dressed in a plain black dress of a nun, blindfolded, with long brown hair falling down her back.
“I thought you would be attending the inauguration of the Tirian Consul, even if it is in this incarnation,” Agatha whispered as she accompanied Duncan slowly forward, “It will not be difficult to place you in a suitable position.”
“He’s in good shape if I don’t show up, he might get nervous if I do instead,” Duncan said, “I’ll just greet him from a distance when the caravan passes through the neighborhood afterward.”
As he said this, he looked up at the rather cold cemetery path and the empty mortuaries on either side of it. “…… kinda miss this place. As far as I remember, this place was originally parked full of caskets.”
“During the special period, we had to temporarily change the process of delivering the souls – the corpses during this period had to be sent to the incinerator as soon as possible, and the Silent Cultivators were directly beside the fireplace to do the soothing and bidding farewell for them, and this side of the cemetery instead seemed to be quieter.”
Duncan hmmmed, then stopped abruptly as he was nearing the end of the trail.
The rustic caretaker’s cottage appeared before him – and there was a special guest in front of the cottage.
A twelve year old girl, dressed in a thick white winter coat and furry hat, was bustling around in front of the caretaker’s hut like a tightly wrapped snowball, clutching a large broom almost as tall as herself as she struggled to clear the snow from the front of the house.
“Is that Annie?” Duncan asked softly with a slight sideways glance.
“It’s her – she comes over every day during the midday school break except for the days when martial law is in effect at the beginning,” Agatha said softly, “the caretaker here is no longer here, a new one has not yet been arranged, and the cemetery is temporarily under the the nearest church to take care of it on the side, and it wouldn’t hurt for her to be here …… so the church side acquiesced to her coming and going here as she pleased.”
“With your acquiescence, too?”
“…… Well.”
The girl sweeping snow in front of the cabin finally noticed movement in the direction of the trail.
She turned her head and looked in surprise at the two figures that appeared not far away, freezing for a few seconds before throwing the broom in her hand aside and running over happily.
“Sister Keeper! And Uncle Duncan!”
Anne happily greeted the two acquaintances in front of her, but just after yelling and as if she suddenly remembered something, she hurriedly re-straightened her body and looked at Agatha: “Mom said to call His Excellency the Gatekeeper, or the Archbishop ……”
“It’s okay, just call it what you like,” Agatha smiled and reached out to press Anne’s hat, “Cold?”
“Not cold,” Anne shook her head, and right after that she grabbed Agatha’s hand again, and with her other hand pointed to the cottage not far away, “Your hands are too cold, come inside and roast the fire – I’ve even made herbal tea! ”
Agatha subconsciously wanted to politely refuse, but she saw that Duncan had already taken a step towards that hut, and she froze with some surprise, and could only follow helplessly.
In the neat, plain caretaker’s hut, the fire was blazing, wood splintering in the hearth, and the tea cooker beside it was steaming, the heat carrying the crisp, bitter flavor of herbs.
Anne poured two cups of hot tea and slipped the warm cups into Duncan and Agatha’s hands, “This is for the church keepers who are making their rounds, they’ll be here in a moment, so it’s good to warm your …… hands if you don’t drink it.”
The girl seems to have realized only now that the “keeper sister” in front of her was already a corpse.
Agatha did not care, she said thank you, holding the cup in her hand has gradually started to heat.
“Is it warmer?” Anne asked again.
It was icy, the whole world was icy, the cup of tea was cold, as was the fire.
Agatha smiled gently, “Much warmer.”
Immediately afterward, she noticed Duncan’s behavior as he looked around from time to time.
“What are you looking at?” She asked suspiciously.
“I thought it would be a good ‘placement’ spot,” Duncan said to Agatha as he withdrew his gaze around the room, “After all, if it’s only to be used to ‘house ‘ an avatar, that house on Oak Street seems a bit of a waste.”
Agatha was stunned for a moment, gradually responding as a look of surprise appeared on her face, “Do you …… ……”
“The Lost Country is going to continue its voyage, and this incarnation of mine that remains in the city will need a place to be housed,” Duncan said lightly, “No need to fret about a new caretaker, it will save you a lot of work.”
(End of chapter)