A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 25: Continent of Misfortune

The city of ’South Cleveland’ was more like a cage. The humans couldn’t dare to escape it.

In the entrance, a large gate was covered in mantras with papers glued to the walls.

Zhuo’s eyes widened in awe. ”Look at the gate–”

Lin followed his gaze, mantra, and paper talismans, layers of spiritual protection built up over years like a torn tissue, but the walls had marks as if something had been scratching them. ”They’re just afraid.” She murmured.

A stale scent of flour and rice water filled the air. The sound of shuffling in the streets and echoes of footsteps showed a large crowd. People walked: merchants, mothers, and children, but no one’s feet moved outside the gate, not even slightly.

A tower was built in the center. It seemed like a large tombstone, thrusting into the endless sky.

Then from a temple of a God, a bell rang, signifying the beginning of the day, a way of ignorance to any terror. The bell rang again and again. Zhuo counted it; his eyes shifted to the direction.

”Why it is taking so long?” Zhuo’s voice was a little worried, followed by Jian Yue.

”He should have been here by now.” Jian Yue’s eyes narrowed, looking for any signs of Mo Fei. ”Zhuo, can you see his motion?”

Zhuo shook his head; he focused but saw no lines of familiar motion. Lin’s fingers traced the fabric of her Hanfu.

”Lin,” Zhuo whispered with another small yawn. ”Uhm, so why don’t you use your authority? We can take Mo Fei here.” Lin stared down at the ribbon on her wrist; her voice came as a sigh.

”2 hours are left for my scar to heal.” Zhuo tilted his head, confused. ”Using it now would tear the wound open again.” Her eyes fixated on the gate.

Jian Yue took two steps back, his hand resting on his blade. ”I’ll go and find him.”

Lin’s hand rose, stopping him. ”No, if you are thinking of going to the continent of Misfortune.”

Zhuo ran his hands through his hair. Lin’s eyes snapped to him. ”Stop that, Zhuo. Manners.” Zhuo froze. ”Sorry.” He scratched his head and remembered his mother, who used to say the same thing.

Jian Yue cast a brief glance his way once and then continued. ”You mean wait for the confirmation of the pages?” His hand moved away from the hilt of his blade. ”But you know that Mo Fei can be there.”

”But what if he isn’t?” She said flatly.

”Something must have happened to him, Lin.”

”Oh yeah, that stupid probably got killed saving someone.”

”The border of Misfortune isn’t somewhere you get ’lost’; you either find a way in hours or never.” Jian Yue’s voice turned serious.

”You don’t have to say that.” She said, crossing her arms.

”What if he can’t use his eyes and there are no monsters but gho–”

Lin cut Zhuo off and pinched the bridge of her nose. ”Zhuo, stop; you aren’t making it any better.”

Jian Yue sighed at her words, her voice trying to sound calm, almost trying to reassure herself.

”As for checking up, just in case... I’ll go too.” Said she.

”Can I... come too?” Zhuo whispered, expecting her to accept, but his hope vanished soon like a retreating wave.

”No,” Lin said without hesitation, but that time Zhuo felt that this ’no’ was softer. ”You’ll stay; don’t move from here.”

Zhuo nodded.

Jian Yue and Lin disappeared.

Zhuo watched them go. And for a long moment, there was nothing but the rustle of leaves, the distant chime of the bell, and the weight of a city that refused to look at what lived beyond its walls.

He turned back to the gate. To the talismans. The people walked and chatted, but never ever looked that way.

***

In the forest Mo Fei was still running. A dull thread in front of Mo Fei, his feet changed direction before suddenly something snapped, a few drops of blood from his nose and mouth.

”It’s been 19 minutes, damn it... DAMN IT!”

He closed his one good eye. His hand clenched the temple; using it more would lead to another memory loss that Mo Fei didn’t want.

The boy tugged Mo Fei’s sleeve. ”Are you okay? There is blood.” Mo Fei wiped his mouth.

”Fine enough to run.” The girl only stared at him.

”Kids, you can see them right?” Both of their fear-tainted faces looked at me and nodded. ”Then you have to tell me where they are.”

The girl didn’t say anything; just for a few seconds she stared at the tree at something crawling. ”We... have been here before.” She muttered, Mo Fei’s good eye looked around. He noticed the crawling termites on the tree, and behind him, the church loomed. His breath caught in his throat.

What the fuck...

The time was 6:26. Time had moved further.

”A maze?” His stomach churned; the church was behind him again, the same termites crawling. He hadn’t moved at all; he’d been running in place for twenty minutes.

Mo Fei’s thoughts flickered... that spirit didn’t kill because he wasn’t in their territory?

A few screams came out, shaking Mo Fei’s bones. Not a child’s scream, but something that had been screaming for hours, maybe days or years.

He stared at the direction of the scream; it came from the garden of another house. Both of the kids gripped Mo Fei tightly.

”One or two memories can’t be that bad to lose.” He tapped his temple, and the choice was decided: survival over memories. Blood retreted in his eyes. Another 19 minutes; he couldn’t waste any seconds now.

He saw seven dull threads around him; above him wandered spirits. One half-eaten through its stomach, another had no sides, and one had a broken spine.

Mo Fei swung the Glaive and cut through the dull threads. With a clean strike, he severed two of them.

Both spirits screamed out of their throats.

Other spirits disappeared. His eyes narrowed; the threads were still there. His ankle tightened. He quickly lifted his feet and smashed down on the hand of the spirit that tried to catch him.

He jumped back, but those spirits caught the kids who clung to Mo Fei desperately with watery eyes, but the spirits couldn’t move more than two feet.

Mo Fei clenched the dull thread tightly; the souls began to suffocate under that pressure, their jaws opening, letting out a guttural whimper.

”Don’t waste my time!” His Glaive moved, slashing the threads. His other hand pulled the kids.

Ghosts’ form unraveled edges, dissolving into mist. The children closed their eyes, holding him tighter than before.

”They’re gone?” Both of them spoke.

Mo Fei nodded. Three threads, three souls. The Glaive drank them all.

”Lightless path...” The same mixed voice of children came from behind him; the copy stared at him. ”You are walking on a road with no destination.”

”What?”

The spirit wearing the faces of kids went silent.

”M-Mei, where. Is Mei–” The girl spoke from behind him in a staccato manner. The faces of the spirits tilted.

”Mei? You mean your older sister. She is dead... in a few minutes.” Her hand held Mo Fei’s sleeve tightly, quivering.

The third thread was Mei... ’I might have failed.’

Mo Fei’s stare hardened.

”You have no connections with this world any longer; why does this place even exist?”

”I wonder that too.” It shrugged, a human gesture that seemed horribly out of place.

Mo Fei glared at the thread of the spirit, his hand raised to chop it off, but suddenly the same intestine came from deep within the forest, holding his wrist. The same sticky, warm feeling.

”Many ascenders come here for the scattered pages of Authority, but you had different reasons.” Both replicas raised their voices and said in a raspy tone. ”You must be an amateur.”

”You talk too much for someone that should be sleeping in a grave.” Mo Fei pulled his hand harder, and the intestine stretched, same as before.

”Try running then.” The replica of the boy’s body stretched. The spine lengthened abruptly, reaching toward the kids.

Mo Fei moved without thinking.

The Glaive came up and caught the wrist of Spirit; the impact shuddered through his arm.

Mo Fei’s vision flickered. Three minutes had passed and sixteen minutes left.

With a push, Mo Fei shoved back the spirit, buying a second. His free hand touched his temple, and the kids held him tight, trying not to fall from the movements.

The world turned silver.

Threads scattered everywhere. Between them he saw the bright thread, but it was slowly dimming. The spirit followed his gaze.

”Yes,” it whispered. ”She is still there.” The replica’s hands moved toward the church’s garden. ”But even if you make it, there is no saving.”

Mo Fei ran toward it anyways.

The replicas collapsed into each other, skin folding into another, faces wrinkled. When things stopped, an old man stood there. Half his teeth were gone. The rest were broken; it made a clattering noise like someone whimpering in the cold.

The air curdled. One moment the path was clear; the next, the spirit stood there, its nerves knitting together with the sound of a snapping dry branch. It appeared in front, and stretched its body, like a trampoline base.

The ground trembled. A small hand grabbed his ankle; his eye quickly stared down. It was a child’s hand. Dozens of small hands reaching up to pull him down. Mo Fei’s eyes darted between them.

”They all wanted to be saved.” Another whisper from the spirit. ”They all thought someone would come... their hope died with them.”

Mo Fei almost sank to his knees, his Glaive almost falling. The girl held it before it could fall from his grip.

Mo Fei’s hand found the haft. The threads were dull; they had died but didn’t move on.

He swung, bringing the Glaive down at the ground with a crushing force; he aimed the devastating blow at the ground beneath them. The Glaive bit deep; he cut off the hands before stumbling back.

A heavy silence occurred as the spirits sank. Behind the spirit, Mo Fei saw the thread connecting to someone.

His eyes saw a clear vision: another girl wearing the same colored ribbon as the smaller one. She was older, around sixteen perhaps. Mo Fei found his throat getting bitter from the sight.

Her head had a big cut that was bleeding, and her one leg was missing, breathing barely. His hand rose to touch his own chest.

’You can’t save three people drowning with just two hands.’ His glare hardened at the spirit.

Mo Fei channeled all his strength into a horizontal slash, aiming to take the spirit’s leg out. The spirit was amused by the sudden attack and disappeared inside the trees.

Then the face appeared in the tree: first the skull, then it formed nerves, then muscle made of wood.

”You’re already too late,” it said, not cruel but tired of existing... ”She’s gone.”

The thread had gone dull a few seconds ago.

Mo Fei looked at the kids behind him, at their faces streaked with tears waiting for the news that they already knew.

8 more minutes left to escape now... Only 8 minutes. He had two children to lead out of the terror.

He held the kids on his sides. Then he ran, but he observed that time; he memorized the path. He turned left at the twisted oak. Then right at the stone that looked like a kneeling woman, a statue that went in such a terrible state to even be recognized... Then he rushed straight through the place where the trees didn’t grow.

His Glaive moved, slashing down every dull thread that came into his view without mercy.

When the familiar sight of the haunted town came, he breathed relief; he was close to escape now.

The girl stumbled from his hand. Mo Fei caught her without stopping. The boy’s grip on his sleeve didn’t loosen.

A small weight fell from his pocket. The locket. The one he’d carried since World 2,

It hit the ground with a soft thud.

”Wait–” the boy was already there. Quicker than Mo Fei could react, the child scooped it up and clutched it to his chest.

”Pretty,” the boy whispered. His eyes, still wet with tears, looked at the locket like it was the first beautiful thing he’d seen in years.

Mo grabbed him without stopping. ”Keep it for now. But if anything falls again, don’t even look back to see.” The boy nodded and held tighter.

The threads of Jian Yue and Lin blazed at the edge of the forest. He followed them, dragging the children through the underbrush.

Another thing snapped in his head; he knew he had forgotten something...

Splash.

The blood fell, but didn’t retreat this time.