A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 13: The Choice to Hell

All four of them stared at the two paths.

The right path led to Trasia. A soft warm light, tracing the edges of the exit. That path was a world of walls, masters, nobles, and slaves. A dozen known varieties of suffering.

While on the left was a dead path. The light came within the path, flickering, a showroom of forgotten things. It promised nothing.

Han, a man who had seen too many roads that ended tragically. His eyes narrowed at the paths. ”That way would lead us to the Overseer’s palace.” He didn’t look at them and continued. ”He will not spare us.”

Elara rubbed her arm with her palm. Her eyes locked onto the path of Trasia.

Mo Fei listened with his one good ear; he couldn’t hear, but he watched their faces closely.

”We will go this way.” He said, pointing toward the path to ’Trasia.’ He decided that not because it served him perfection, but because if he had to drink poison either way, then why would he drink it from a dirty, uncleaned glass?

They stared at him. Their faces painted with different shades of the same fear.

”Why?” Elara breathed. She stood ten paces away from them.

Mo Fei gave her a ridiculous look. He couldn’t hear her fragile voice. Elara shook her head and gestured with her hands. ’Why?’

”Because,” Mo Fei paused. ”If both paths are poison, let’s drink the one we can.” Mo Fei took a step toward the golden light.

Han’s stoic eyes searched Mo Fei’s face. ”Do you believe that meeting the known devil is safe?”

”I believe... though we don’t have any options left, right?”

He didn’t wait for agreement. He had chosen that for himself. To follow was their decision. But he knew the choice was obvious.

A heartbeat later. They joined him: Grig, then Han, and then finally, with a soundless sob, Elara stepped forward.

”This is the first rule I have ever authored for myself: When all choices are hells, choose the one whose devil you can look in the eyes.”

When they entered the cave. The air changed into a warm, sweet, and melodic scent of amber.

”Hmm, interestingly, it’s a comfortable place.” Mo Fei muttered.

Han looked around at the polished walls. They were filled with honey-colored ambers, and insects were sealed within them. ”We are in a temple. The Forsaken Chamber of Gods.” Grig’s footsteps paced in a circle. He had heard about that temple before.

”If this is the temple, then we are on the outskirts of Trasia,” Grig said, his voice calmed. Mo Fei couldn’t hear clearly, but a few words had hit his ear: ’Gods.’ Mo Fei’s eyes landed on Elara, reaching out her hand toward the warm amber, but quickly retreating from it.

”What does that mean?” Mo Fei asked.

”This is the temple of thirteen Gods. One of them had been forgotten; people pray to Him, but they have forgotten His name.”

A God that had been forgotten...? Could it be that ’He’ was the creator and also the Architect?

Twelve Gods were still out there, causing his own beliefs to break apart. He had thought that only ’Architect’ was behind it all, but his purpose of pursuing ’Him’ would not be that easy.

Mo Fei’s eyes landed on his ribbon, glowing with the same moonlit, faint silver glow of the letter 肆 (4). It had been a while since he looked at it. Everything he had believed, was that really a truth? What if those ribbons weren’t tied to the ”Architect” at all? What if he was pursuing the wrong person?

A few meters away. Thirteen vast gates loomed over the temple. Shadows of the gates, towering over the stones.

Grig broke the silence. ”Why are we standing here?”

Mo Fei gave him a dry look and said a witty remark. ”Obviously, to admire the so-called beauty of a temple.”

”I never heard this tone before from you...” Grig said with a half-hearted curiosity.

”Long time to know me; you may hear this again if the situation is light.” He said flatly, thinking of something. Elara’s lips stifled a small, soft laugh. Her eyes softened in the comfort of that place.

Han also chuckled lightheartedly for the first time. He had gotten moments of freedom once again, and then Han spoke.

”Mo Fei, that’s light of you.” He moved his hand toward the way. ”Let’s get going.”

”It’s better at least.” Grig and Han supported Mo Fei as he walked. His sides throbbed in pain, wincing with every few steps.

As they stopped near the gates. Mo Fei placed a hand on the cold iron door. He pushed open the door, but it was shut tightly. Mo Fei braced his muscles and pushed again; nothing happened. In the end, he sat on the stairs.

”I should have gone to the gym. Now I’m crying over no strength.” He mumbled, leaning against the stairs.

”Should we open this?” Grig asked.

”Not necessary,” Han answered.

”Let’s take a rest then.” Elara joined in.

”Grig, you should break your chains now.” Upon hearing that, Grig nodded gently. Han came forward to help Grig.

Just at that moment, a thing fell from the ceiling of a temple. Mo Fei quickly stood up, his heart racing from the familiarity as he quickly ran toward it. They were surprised by the sudden action but followed him.

As Mo Fei reached the thirteenth gate on the ground. He tripped on the ground, falling near the thing.

There was a feather, not just a feather, but a ”Ji Yu” feather. He pounced at the feather, grasping it in his palm. It indeed was ”Ji Yu.” He clenched it tightly, but nothing happened. He didn’t burn.

He tilted upward. For a second, he saw a shadow with countless eyes. It dissolved with a smug grin.

Imagination? No... In these words, even imagination meant something.

Then his eyes lay on the ground; a few meters away, a page was pinned on the ground. That page was new, maybe from a modern era.

In perfect curves and beautiful handwriting. It was written:

”The Forsaken Chamber lies behind the sealed heart. Your choice will be long-lasting. If you want to survive, you must choose an ’Authority.’ Open any door and do the ritual.” — Jian Yue.

And at the bottom in slightly messier handwriting, almost as if written in a rush. ”I’ll explain everything once we meet...”

”Choose one authority and do the ritual...?” He looked at the thirteen doors. The names he had read before in the world two’s pillar.

The gate in front of him said. ’Lightless’ The same name Yan Gu had been chanting.

Be Lightless... Be Lightless.

”Who is speakink!” He looked around. Han, Elara, and Grig were staring at him confused.

The voice was in his head.

Give your light... Give your light.

Be Lightless... Be Lightless.

Mo Fei swallowed the thought. The voices kept whispering in his head. He took a step forward. The voices lowered, then he took another step. They lowered even further. His eyes fixated on the door of the Lightless.

In archaic Mandarin, beneath the door was written.

’The Authority of the Lightless’

’The Embodiment of Spirits and All Worlds.’

’The Ruler of Light.’

......

......

......

.....

And other sentences were too abstract to understand.

”Grig, Han. I need you to open this gate. Could you help me?” He turned to face them.

Grig and Han exchanged a look. That was beyond breaking chains or fighting monsters. That was touching the divinity, a path toward it.

”Are you certain?” Han’s voice gradually lowered. ”We are just humans; looking at the divinity could kill you...”

”I’m certain,” Mo Fei said.

Grig cracked his knuckles. The sound got swallowed up by the dense air. ”I believe in your strategy. A gate is a gate. Tell us where to push.”

Han heard it, though he still hesitated. The path of divinity was simply a vow to kill the God. Yet he accepted, and they positioned themselves at the vast iron-bound doors.

”On three, push,” Han commanded.

They pushed the door with all their might. It groaned first before opening slowly.

An echo of deep THRUM passed through the door, through the stone, and their bones.

The massive gates unfolded. The gate completely swung open, receding into a vast room.

Mo Fei staggered when his head started to ache; a few drops of his blood fell on the ground. The wound started to ache again.

”Mo Fei!” Elara called out. ”Your wound is opened!”

Mo Fei didn’t look back. Ahead of them, the room was silent. In the center was a single well, but it wasn’t filled with any absurd liquid. It was empty, not deeper than half a meter. Beside it was built a sacred altar made of smooth stone.

Over that altar, a double-edged Glaive rested. Both blades were sharp. It looked new, as if rust never reached it.

Mo Fei’s eyes locked on the Glaive. What could be the ’Ritual’?

Han, Grig, and Elara stood at the threshold. Elara stepped forward, trying to enter. She couldn’t move ahead, an invincible wall stopping her. Her hand hovered at the strange thin wall.

”What do I have to do?” The Glaive... He had to use that? But how? His body shivered when he felt a cosmic gaze watching his moves. He looked at the ceiling; no one was there to begin with.

He glanced back at his companions. Their faces were etched with fear and worry. He looked at the well again. His blood continued to drip out, but he wasn’t feeling pain.

Blood...blood...blood.

The voices whispered.

Mo Fei reached for the Glaive, knowing there’d be another cost, like the last time. But that was the path he chose. To not just suffer the rules, but he’d see them. And if he could see them... perhaps he could use them. His fingers closed around the cold haft.

The ritual has begun.