A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 27: A God’s Devotee

The guards had let them pass without another word. The talismans fluttered once as they crossed the threshold, maybe a warning, or maybe just the wind.

The city stood over them like a held breath, waiting to see if they belonged there. Humans lived beside the horror, yet the air was thick with the scent of warm crusts and sharp seasonings... Hope, the stubborn human hope.

As they wove through the marketplace, their eyes swept over it. Stone storefronts, painted a somber charcoal grey, displayed everything from fresh food to everyday wares.

​Near a jeweler’s window, a group of women lingered. Their eyes caught heavy gold necklaces and rings set with glowing stones that seemed to trap the fading light.

Over every entrance, thick roots spiraled up the pillars like frozen serpents.

People gossiped; their bartering filled the air. Suddenly a cat darted from a low roof, swiping at a startled customer’s hand. A clay cup fell from her hands, shattering against the cobbles.

Near a fountain, a woman sat with a cage of silent birds. They didn’t sing, just watched; a sign beside her said, ’Listen with your eyes.’

Then, a bell rang from a short distance; it was the shop’s bell.

A child no older than Hao Yu balanced on a barrel, juggling three small flames. The fire didn’t burn him. The crowd pretended not to notice. Of course, in a city where talismans covered every gate, ignoring a mystery was better than understanding it.

Hao Yu’s breath hitched as he stared frozen in awe at the juggler, a small gasp escaping his lips. For a moment, he forgot to be afraid. Xin Yi didn’t look. She just gripped Mo Fei’s sleeve tighter, her eyes on the ground.

”So this is South Cleveland.” Mo Fei’s eyes darted to the shops. ”It got more life than I expected.”

The children pressed closer to Mo Fei, overwhelmed by the noise, the smells, and the sheer aliveness of it all.

Lin snorted, ”First time in a city that’s not trying to kill you?” Her shoulder dropped slightly; she’d finally relaxed after ascending in this world.

”Killing me?” Mo Fei shrugged, ”Please, I’m the most hazardous thing in any city I visit.”

Zhuo tracked the cat with his eyes until it vanished in a narrow street, claiming it as its own kingdom.

Passing the grain merchant, Zhuo’s nose twitched. The scent changed to a dry, dusty aroma of hemp sacks and dried, concentrated fruit. ”Can’t we wait for... Like, a simple rest?” Zhuo said.

Jian Yue heaved a long sigh, ”I’d love to,” his hands raised in defeat. ”We don’t have money to buy anything.”

Zhuo’s eyes shifted to Mo Fei with a childish hope.

”Well, my pocket is as thin as the soles of my boots...” Mo Fei said while looking around.

There was a baker at a stall who caught Mo Fei’s gaze, listening to them, and then he quickly looked away. His hand moved to cover a loaf... a protective gesture? Strangers. Hungry strangers. Everyone knew what hungry strangers meant.

Then the baker’s wife emerged from behind the stall, wiping flour from hands that had seen decades of work. She watched them with the weary, calculating gaze of someone who had seen it all. ”You seem new,” she stated.

Lin met her gaze with a nod. ”We are.”

The woman nodded back; her eyes landed on the small figures of two kids holding Mo Fei’s sleeves. Then, to her husband: ”Give them the day-old loaves. The ones we were going to feed the pigs.”

The baker hesitated, but she didn’t repeat herself, so he moved.

As the baker wrapped the breads, the wife kept looking at them for any kind of suspicious movement. She glanced at Mo Fei’s dirty hands and at Jian Yue’s grim face. Then the wife spoke again: ”Could you tell us more about you?” She took a brief pause. ”Some kind of proof.”

Jian Yue raised his hand and slowly pulled back his sleeve. The ribbon on his wrist glowed with the same moonlit glow as Mo Fei’s, but under that ribbon was written, ’The Warden of Silence,’ and beneath it, embedded in Mandarin, ’The Page Turner’ (翻页者) and the number 7. (柒)

”We are ascenders, and we want pages for our Descent ritual.”

The wife stayed silent considering the words. ”So, you’ll want to go to the Temple of Bleakstone. North side, past the tanner’s row. The cultists there trade for old things. Pages, if that’s what you’re after, the ’Astral Cult’ maintains these countries.”

Jian Yue’s eyes narrowed; he had heard about that cult, but last time he didn’t visit it. ”And what do you want in return?”

The woman smiled, though not a warm one. ”Nothing. But the temple’s blessing,” she said as her eyes flickered to the children. ”You’re an ascender, so maybe you’re the type who survives.”

”And if we don’t?” Mo Fei asked, but she said nothing, just handed them the bread.

Hao Yu finally looked away from the juggler. He took the bread and held it like treasure. ”Is it always like this?” He whispered.

Mo Fei didn’t know if he meant the city, the food, or the fact that they were still alive. ”No,” Mo Fei yawned. ”Or probably.”

Hao Yu tore into the loaf like it would disappear. Xin Yi held hers, but not eating

She held it and stared at the bread longer. Lin who noticed it, just moved a step closer.

Zhuo held the bread and bit into it, swallowing a piece. It wasn’t delicious or luxurious, but it was enough to give them a little strength to walk.

Hao Yu, still clutching his bread, took a small bites, reached out and touched Mo Fei’s sleeve. ”Will there be more food tomorrow?”

Mo Fei looked down at him. ”Yeah,” then he repeated. ”Probably.”

”I like bread.” Hao Yu nodded, satisfied. In his world, ”probably” was enough. The piece of bread was a luxury to them. Mo Fei had a question, but he didn’t ask, waiting for the right moment. He knew that asking them in their current state wouldn’t lead them to answer.

Xin Yi, still not eating, suddenly spoke: ”I’ve never seen it so close, the soft kind.” She chewed the bread, the bite tasting dull.

After a while they finally moved, and Mo Fei tied the Glaive with the cloth given by the baker’s wife.

As they wove through the city, they noticed signs of the Astral cult. Symbols carved above doorways. Followers walked in gray robes, silently watching and guarding. Anyone who walked avoided eye contact with them.

Between them, a grey-robed figure stood at a crossroads, perfectly still. The crowd flowed around him, yet he didn’t seem to move, nor blink. His focus shifted to the crowd walking. The man watched the movement of their clothes and feet with the eyes of a falcon, keen and precise.

A gray robe passed too close. Jian Yue’s hand went to his blade as an instinct. The cultist bowed in an apology and moved away.

And Mo Fei, who had noticed it by now. Even without his Apprentice’s Eyes, he saw something was wrong with that cultist; his good eye caught something. There was no shadow to any of those cultists.

Mo Fei’s eye stayed on that man long after they passed. ”Did you see that?” he mumbled.

Jian Yue nodded. ”No shadow.”

”What does that mean?”

”I don’t know, but it’s not pleasant to know.”

The group left the marketplace behind and entered a neighborhood of silent households. It was utterly silent as if all of them were sleeping... and indeed they were. A marketplace, a fully alive place and then that society? Silent and sleeping.

Lin’s face held a hint of unease. ”This place... is awkward.”

”Or probably you are just into noise.” Mo Fei scoffed.

”I hope you had stayed deaf.” Lin’s eye twitched at his words.

The street expanded into an open field. The endless sky stretched like a blue blanket above the earth. The farms of blueberries cover the other side of the ground.

Scent of a sweet and intoxicating perfume, evoking a sense of summer’s beauty and the rural, quiet life of South Cleveland.

The soft thrum of their footfalls was the only thing that broke the silence; each felt heavy and muffled, paddling against the dirt that seemed to be lost in the vast open air.

In the air between them, their clothes rustle as if shivering under the weightless air.

A dog lay on the side of the path, its ribs visible. It didn’t move as they passed; nor it lifted its head. Its eyes were wide open, tracking them, but the rest of its body was perfectly still.

”Is it sleeping?” Hao Yu whispered.

Jian Yue just shook his head.

Then after a few hours of walking, the temple rose at the end of the street. Bleakstone. The name certainly had fit the place.

The stones were the color of bruised wound, and the windows were dark, but they were not empty. Something moved behind them. Shapes? Silhouettes? Archivists?

Jian Yue’s hand found his blade’s hilt and rested there. ”We’re here.”

The door opened before they reached it. No one stood there, onlh darkness, and emptiness... Just voices like paper rustling:

”The heart of the lord. The servant of silence. The keeper of the gate of heaven... and Lightless’s Apprentice’... Finally offering children.” A pause. ”The children remember what the adults forget.”

Mo Fei tapped his temple, and the world was chained by the silver threads. His eyes caught a single thread connecting to the voice. He stepped forward with a question. ”Who are you?”

A small silence occurred.

”A God’s Devotee.”