"Woah! What a view!" She yelled.
On top of a hill, Frayfoil, Wailstone, and Crackore stretch like a new world for the three. It's all sand, no water, and the wind chimed through roof sheets as music from nature's will. For once, everything that had been set in their belief falls apart. Like truth, nothing is redeemable and comfortable anymore.
But the work is not over yet. One might have left homes for a sight, yet they do not open their minds when they see the clouds battle. No one is saved, but the remains of the town, for its history, are putrid. Patience is a persistence for the librarian.
"On a day like this, someone like us couldn't miss the chance to watch the world seep through a new age. Am I right, Charger?" Eve jokes.
"Meh, I would've been on the one doing it instead!" Charger replies.
"How about you, Cy?"
"Nothing changed about a man who kindly helps another. Shall we continue, my lady?" Cyrus teases.
"Sure...let us continue, dear friend..." Eve smirks.
One more desperation stands before the three wanderers, with one more revelation to teach the humans. Unveiled between bricks of soon-to-be-decayed houses, a woman stands perverted for a man whose hands are rotting on her skin. She holds her face up with a grunt, clutching her sun-like amulet as she prays for the sky in that disgraceful position.
She was a saint or someone as 'delighted' as Cyrus. Where there was once a light, she was also shimmering for him. But as the sun vanishes and the world turns cold and sandy, so does her place in the town along with others.
"Isn't that—Jessica?" Cyrus walks back from the alley.
"You know her?" Eve replies.
"Y-yeah! She helps me save numerous women from violence from men...W-why is she here...? And...who is that guy...?"
"That man has a big wallet. How many silvers does he have inside to make that bump?" Charger commented.
Her faith might be strong, but her will isn't. The man's wallet defeats everything she had been praying for, leaving her depraved for survival by any means. The cleric was not happy about her betrayal, but it's not like he could utter such disappointment.
She didn't wish to become like this—she only wanted to live like many women she had saved. But everything she had built in this town was ruined when she had to share it with those 'men' in the street. Now, she has only the silvers to catch in a quest against the undeniable.
"Oh, how unfortunate," Eve replies.
"Promise can always be torn when you met the wrong person..." Eve commented as she peeked through the alley.
"Sometimes, it could be because of a dime."
There is no reason to excuse here. The cleric sees only the true colour of this moment. These saints are not born to define but to accept the judgement from above. Clearly, the cleric was not the one to judge.
"I can't believe this...I..."
Cyrus was speechless, regretful, and defeated.
The sun has darkened, and the librarian won right before its light. As one minute passed, the man left with what he desired the most, while the woman left with what she craved desperately. The truth cannot be changed even if these wanderers have the power.
"Jessica, wait!" Cyrus rushes to her.
The cleric seeks redemption, trying to knot a bond through salvation, but he is no one to her anymore. The woman forgets about him like other men, and the cleric lies there to be a figure of falsehood. Here, the cleric stands double the defeat.
"Aww...why? I thought we were...I thought everything was...fine..." Cyrus sat pressured.
"Ugh, no. No! I'm not falling for this...I can help more women from here!" He stands up in denial.
"You're wrong, Eve! I can prove you!" Cyrus stands up.
The librarian finds it unamusing. Even in her righteous victory, the cleric persists in his pride. The cleric denies for a second time through his reasons. Those confident lips were what allowed him to take over the side of the truth.
"You may kill all men here if you can spare the women."
"But I suppose everyone is punished here, isn't it? Is that how judgment works? Everyone is guilty?"
"H-hey, you can't do that! She won fair and square!" Charger argues.
"Who are you to support her? Stand on your ground, Charger." Cyrus replies.
The victory disappeared in the hands of the librarian. Once again, the cleric won the game made to lift her up. As the holder of the truth, the librarian cannot deny his victory was proven. The Tin Man, however, has no words.
"Jessica..." Cyrus looks pitying at her.
"If we wanted to make a better world, then we deserve to have the old ones to be the survivor building it up instead."
"She could make a paradise from our rubble, but she can't do so if she was meant to die."
"For if we condemn all, we have nothing. And nothing is where knowledge is gone."
"Fair enough..." Eve closes her eyes with disdain as she walks off. She marked one point for Cyrus.
The sun has darkened, and the librarian won right before its light. As one minute passed, the man left with what he desired the most, while the woman left with what she craved desperately. The truth cannot be changed even if these wanderers have the power.
"Jessica, wait!" Cyrus rushes to her.
The cleric seeks redemption, trying to knot a bond through salvation, but he is no one to her anymore. The woman forgets about him like other men, and the cleric lies there to be a figure of falsehood. Here, the cleric stands double the defeat.
"Aww...why? I thought we were...I thought everything was...fine..." Cyrus sat pressured.
"Ugh, no. No! I'm not falling for this...I can help more women from here!" He stands up in denial.
"You're wrong, Eve! I can prove you!" Cyrus stands up.
The librarian finds it unamusing. Even in her righteous victory, the cleric persists in his pride. The cleric denies for a second time through his reasons. Those confident lips were what allowed him to take over the side of the truth.
"I helped women from where they were left. You assume that killing the town would save them? But you would've killed those who didn't deserve it, Eve."
"Kill all men and me in it, but only if you can spare the women for what I have tried to do for them."
"Yet I suppose everyone is punished here, isn't it? Is that how judgment works? Everyone is guilty?"
"H-hey, you can't do that! She won fair and square!" Charger argues.
"Who are you to support her? Stand on your ground, Charger." Cyrus replies.
The victory disappeared in the hands of the librarian. Once again, the cleric won the game made to lift her up. As the holder of the truth, the librarian cannot deny his victory was proven. The cleric was as clever as he made up.
"Jessica..." Cyrus pities with a tear before looking at Eve.
"If we wanted to make a better world, then we deserve to have the old ones to be the survivor building it up instead. She could make a paradise from our rubble, but she can't do so if she was meant to die."
"For if we condemn all, we have nothing. And nothing is where knowledge is gone. Let the town live for another day, so we can purge these men should we are all alive."
"Fair enough..." Eve closes her eyes with disdain as she walks off. She marked one point for Cyrus.
——————————————————————————————————————————
The sun has darkened, and the librarian won right before its light. As one minute passed, the man left with what he desired the most, while the woman left with what she craved desperately. The truth cannot be changed even if these wanderers have the power.
"Jessica, wait!" Cyrus rushes to her.
The cleric seeks redemption, trying to knot a bond through salvation, but he is no one to her anymore. The woman forgets about him like other men, and the cleric lies there to be a figure of falsehood. Here, the cleric stands double the defeat.
"Aww...why? I thought we were...I thought everything was...fine..." Cyrus sat pressured.
"Ugh, no. No! I'm not falling for this...I can help more women from here!" He stands up in denial.
"You're wrong, Eve! I can prove you!" Cyrus stands up.
The librarian finds it unamusing. Even in her righteous victory, the cleric persists in his pride. The cleric denies for a second time through his reasons. Those confident lips were what allowed him to take over the side of the truth.
"You may kill all men here if you can spare the women."
"But I suppose everyone is punished here, isn't it? Is that how judgment works? Everyone is guilty?"
"H-hey, you can't do that! She won fair and square!" Charger argues.
"Who are you to support her? Stand on your ground, Charger." Cyrus replies.
The victory disappeared in the hands of the librarian. Once again, the cleric won the game made to lift her up. As the holder of the truth, the librarian cannot deny his victory was proven. The Tin Man, however, has no words.
"Jessica..." Cyrus looks pitying at her.
"If we wanted to make a better world, then we deserve to have the old ones to be the survivor building it up instead."
"She could make a paradise from our rubble, but she can't do so if she was meant to die."
"For if we condemn all, we have nothing. And nothing is where knowledge is gone."
"Fair enough..." Eve closes her eyes with disdain as she walks off. She marked one point for Cyrus.
The sun has darkened, and the librarian won right before its light. As one minute passed, the man left with what he desired the most, while the woman left with what she craved desperately. The truth cannot be changed even if these wanderers have the power.
"Jessica, wait!" Cyrus rushes to her.
The cleric seeks redemption, trying to knot a bond through salvation, but he is no one to her anymore. The woman forgets about him like other men, and the cleric lies there to be a figure of falsehood. Here, the cleric stands double the defeat.
"Aww...why? I thought we were...I thought everything was...fine..." Cyrus sat pressured.
"Ugh, no. No! I'm not falling for this...I can help more women from here!" He stands up in denial.
"You're wrong, Eve! I can prove you!" Cyrus stands up.
The librarian finds it unamusing. Even in her righteous victory, the cleric persists in his pride. The cleric denies for a second time through his reasons. Those confident lips were what allowed him to take over the side of the truth.
"I helped women from where they were left. You assume that killing the town would save them? But you would've killed those who didn't deserve it, Eve."
"Kill all men and me in it, but only if you can spare the women for what I have tried to do for them."
"Yet I suppose everyone is punished here, isn't it? Is that how judgment works? Everyone is guilty?"
"H-hey, you can't do that! She won fair and square!" Charger argues.
"Who are you to support her? Stand on your ground, Charger." Cyrus replies.
The victory disappeared in the hands of the librarian. Once again, the cleric won the game made to lift her up. As the holder of the truth, the librarian cannot deny his victory was proven. The cleric was as clever as he made up.
"Jessica..." Cyrus pities with a tear before looking at Eve.
"If we wanted to make a better world, then we deserve to have the old ones to be the survivor building it up instead. She could make a paradise from our rubble, but she can't do so if she was meant to die."
"For if we condemn all, we have nothing. And nothing is where knowledge is gone. Let the town live for another day, so we can purge these men should we are all alive."
"Fair enough..." Eve closes her eyes with disdain as she walks off. She marked one point for Cyrus.
——————————————————————————————————————————
Their journey continues in the smouldering desert of southern Great Stone. The taste of misery and fact has never been this strong for the librarian and all her wisdom. But while they were wandering for chaos amidst the brown clouds, desperate turned from lust into greed.
"Spare water...please...spare water...water for me..."
"Oh, here you—" Cyrus offers for a hand
"Don't!" Eve slaps his hand, snatching the bottle away from his reach.
"What the...Eve!"
Beggars, the sweet sound of their wails as they have only a carpet to lie their foot, a tattered leather to cover their skin, and a dusty face from a journey no men had ever wanted to hear. For one to plea before the three wanderers, his fearful face almost caught the cleric's heart.
He didn't ask for gold—he asked for the taste of rain. The man has been awakened with a taste of drought on his tongue, and every water is polluted with sand. But as he pleaded for the cleric's mercy, the librarian knew he was filled with lies and deception.
"Eve?" The man looks in horror.
"Don't even think about it, Bernard. Get lost!"
"Fuck you, Ainsley! You can't just keep us all out like this!" The man ran off.
"Eve, he called you by your name!" Charger pulls his scrap away from the carpet.
"You know him?" Cyrus takes the water bottle from her hand.
"He's my neighbour. He's not poor, he just had to share his fortune with his wife after a divorce."
"He still could buy himself a lake. He just didn't want to."
Eve looks at Cyrus with a smirk.
"How annoying, isn't it? A helped man pretending to be helpless..."
The surprise is for everyone but the librarian. The man was no stranger, and he couldn't deceive the one trueness. She could've proven herself true before the cleric, but she knew this was an unfair game. One human cannot condemn all, the cleric said.
"Helpless or not. They're still humans, Eve. No one in this town deserves to be judged less than others..." Cyrus cleans his sandy cloak.
"I can tell so many things wrong about that idea."
"Well, I'm still certain with my points. Besides, what if you were wrong about him? About Bernard?"
"Maybe he was poor. Maybe he scrapping some tickets to leave this town but he can't because he had the lesser fortune when he shared that treasure with his wife."
"Sure, but it doesn't mean he deserves to earn that easily. Water doesn't come from a tree, and the tree needed it now." She drank one bottle for herself.
"Ah..."
"So, is that a game? Because I don't think I can see who's winning." Charger breaks the silence.
"No, only a break. Maybe we should go look for that commotion over there?" She pointed out to the east.
——————————————————————————————————————————
[Gold Hill Square]
The chanting begins—a plea for mercy from the sky. At the center of Gold Creek, where the statue of the Fire Son stands tall, men and women kneel before their god. Incense sticks burn at the statue's base, their oily scent rising to strengthen the prayers.
Even faith prevails in the last few chapters of Gold Creek. Perhaps it was the only thing that kept this town standing, but it won't save anyone else for what's coming next. But the cleric stands proud of his people, belittling the prince's warning and raising the tattered flag of hope into the desecrated town.
"What the..." Eve stops to pander.
"What is this? Why is this happening?" Charger panicked.
"There's a revolt here?" Eve stares confused.
"No, it's a mass gathering. People are here to pray for the Fiery Son!" Cyrus yelled.
At the centre of Gold Creek, hundreds of people gathered on the statue of a Fiery Son's blessing. While sand had already rained over their brownish-orange hoods, their prayers remained absolute and unbreakable. Yet there are those who had already wavered in faith.
The question remains. Should this faith endure through the coming cataclysm, or is it time for everyone to finally embrace rationality? No one can have their knee dusted forever and their back arched every day for a glimpse of a miracle. The three wanderers are a witness.
"Ugh, I can't do this anymore. It doesn't help." A man left the prayer.
"I prayed for him many times! Nothing for us!"
"The Fiery Son can have his offering when he gives us something!"
"Or maybe they are here to finally cut it out of their heads?" Eve utters.
There was a conflicted moment between a change of heart and an eternal servitude. One can guess which is happy for which. These prayers are kneeling against the law, embracing the sand on their faces in their foolish hope.
"Look at these people, Cyrus. They believed in the same thing as you did."
"But what happened next? What are they going to build in the next life? Another statue before their homes?"
"Isn't that you always taught them? Believe in the fire before anything else?"
"You've recite a scripture I would've thought you never did," Cyrus replies.
"But I can assure you, these people are aware of what they're doing. Sometimes, you just had to believe for the bigger right where you're standing."
But the cleric stands happily for all his children. Their words bring a smile to his glittered robe despite the sand severing the sun with them. In his words, faith is fair to all beings. A memory of an old life reminds everyone why the future must be held better, even in the most desperate time.
"This town was not built by ashes, Eve. It was made for the belief." Cyrus offers more water bottles for the praying men.
"The Fire Son is no mere deity. It was a symbol of hope..."
"Innocent women used to be thrown to fire back in 1775 for an accusation of witchcraft. Not just stick to a fire, but a bowl of hot metal."
"One of the women was pregnant when she was accused, and the Duke bats no eye even at the witness of citizens."
"So as she burns, so does her baby. An innocent soul who has no chance to live. Her birth was lies in a fire, perhaps the only sun he'll ever see..."
"That's the origin of Fire Son. And we pray that history would not be repeated for him..."
"For we take the fire this time,"
To hear such words from the cleric left the librarian once again perplexed in defeat. What she had expected to be a foolish sermon turned out to be a quiet acceptance—through redemption, trial, and mourning. This was no temple, after all. It was a statue in a desecrated town, surrounded by followers who now lay in its suffering.
"These people are not praying for the Fire Son's salvation. They are praying for his safety. The world won't end for them, not as long as they have a memory to it.
"Maybe the sand can kill everything here, but it won't kill the one person it was killed unjustly."
"The Fire Son," He raises his arm to the statue.
"Hrgh..." Eve slaps her face in shame.
——————————————————————————————————————————
So many steps have been taken, so many paths crossed, yet the librarian has yet to claim her glory. The cleric's victory feels absurd—lifted by the pride of his many followers and the sheen of his ever-glowing ideals. But the librarian hasn't given up. There is still one last sickness to confront before it spreads.
"Wow, that's like three rounds for us. And let's see...we've got..." Eve opens the paper.
"Ugh, three points for Cyrus."
"Yippee! Does that mean we can finally help people out of this town? Because I have a plan..." Cyrus pulls out his paper.
"Not yet! We have to play three more! Also, it's only two side of this city. We haven't yet visited the worse one."
"Like..."
"My hometown, Frayfoil."
"Your...hometown? Oh, you mean...you lived there?"
The name Frayfoil shook even the cleric's tense shoulders. It was a cursed name, one that uttered death and despise. Yet, from where the librarian sees it, those were her neighbours. A town downhill from the Great Stone and the centre of this land bore a life only the librarian can unveil for the storm to crush.
"Yep, and we're about to go on in to show you."
"No way! You didn't say anything about this! I mean, you did say an entire town..." Cyrus argues.
"But you never mentioned Frayfoil!"
"What's the matter, faithful one? Afraid you'll lose?" Eve teases.
"No? How am I supposed to be scared? Nothing about this is scary to me!" Cyrus brags.
"Then be prepared. Because we're about to go there privilege-style."
"Once I can find that scrap-head around...now where's he?"
"Eve! Eve! Eve!" The Tin Man yelled from a distance.
The librarian stands unchanged for her defeat, for nothing stops her even in a blindfold. With one sloppy slide from the East Wood, the librarian was ready to meet with the old wall of her past, searching for someone close. But their last round would've been swift if it wasn't for one thing holding their pride back.
"Charger? Where are you, my friend? Don't you know we were about to look for the Frayfoil?"
"Did you even try to play the game? We haven't heard anything from you."
"That's a problem we have, friend! We can't sail anymore! We can't!"
"What? Don't ridicule me right now, creature...!" She whispers.
"I didn't! I swear! I was heading back to the coast to check some of the tins when a few people with black hats came out of nowhere and took our boat!"
"The Tophats. Fuck!"
"Boat? What boat?" Cyrus looks in confusion.