“I’m impressed with how little they pretended to stay focused…”
The amphitheater had cleared itself out of everyone except the Major, Sihvan, and a still soundly sleeping Raime. The aforementioned professor was on the other side of Raime, whereas the Major hadn’t moved from his seat since the class had ended. Sihvan was visibly weighing if he should wake them up or not. The Major wouldn’t have hesitated as much, but the call wasn’t his to make.
“At least… at least, they’re not snoring,” Sihvan continued, talking more to himself than to the Major.
The Major recalled the others he’d seen asleep, due to his side activities as a night nurse. All of the Cors couldn’t help but snore, as he thought was natural. The Major would never let this information leave his pipes, but the Capitán snored the loudest. However, this one barely let out a wheeze, even to his acute hearing it was hard to tell they were even breathing. Sihvan hadn’t even been whispering and it didn’t disturb them in the slightest.
“Well,” Sihvan sighed, “I’m sure if they came here they’re still looking forward to coming back to the museum but…”
The Major silently held his gaze, he sensed that in the professor’s internal conflict, he was looking to him for an opinion, someone else to deliberate in his stead. The Major had nothing to give, and felt a void where an expected initiative might have been. Had they wanted them punished? Given grace? Either or, his immediate restraint showed that much like Sihvan, the Major didn’t want to be the one to make the call.
“I’ll run along ahead of you then, you stay here for a bit in case they wake up.”
Why did it feel like he was the one getting punished? The Major had become used to playing caretaker around Armageddon and Willow but he had known this one for mere hours. The professor must’ve sensed some frustration seeping out of him because he only left him a sly smile, turning back to leave the amphitheater. The Major hadn’t intervened, throwing a complaint felt pointless, even with a clear goal in mind he was still at the mercy of Sihvan’s goodwill. In his absence, his eyes fell back on Raime, still comfortably asleep. What were his options about this? The Major doubted, where he to shout as loud as he could, that this unbothered interloper wouldn’t wake up. Did he need to use such brutish methods? Wouldn’t one touch of his hand be enough? Sihvan hadn’t attempted the action himself, he had clearly been unprepared for a situation like this.
As the Major kept mulling over ways to hasten the process, Raime shot up in a loud gasp. The Major saw them blink repeatedly, look around and finally crossing his eyes, stumbling backwards out of their chair in the process. This whole reaction again felt unnecessary. Unlike in the cloister, Raime got up quickly, nonchalantly dusting themselves off, generating much more particles around them than what the Major expected. Was there any point in predicting what this one would do next?
“So,” Raime said, hands on their hips, “What’s up.”
The Major whistled and stood up, making them flinch, even if they tried containing it. Raime shuffled out of the row they had both sat on.
“What is up is we will be late if we do not hurry.”
“Yep, right behind you.”
Did the Major even sense a hint of embarrassment from their voice? Not enough for his taste, he couldn’t know what Raime did in their own time but coming to Sihvan’s class only to promptly fall asleep was insulting. At least the Major felt like the professor should’ve felt this way, but his reaction hadn’t been motivated by anger. Still, he had ended up punished alongside them, forced to straddle the last of the attendees and only hope they could make it in time to catch the green line. The Major could have taken a sprint, and the timing wouldn’t have been an issue, but he had to keep the pace to make sure Raime would follow and they were not helping him. Walking out of the main wing, Raime was periodically slowing down to look around, for no apparent reason, which increasingly annoyed him. In that moment, the Major remembered their accord was not yet in play, as they hadn’t entered the museum, and so he turned around swiftly and leaned down to face Raime.
“It would be greatly, greatly appreciated if we hurried along, if you don’t mind.”
Despite keeping the sentence gentle, the Major had deliberately lowered the tone of his voice to mark the importance of his words. He could see the intimidation had an effect, the human wasn’t used to his presence, and he was intent on making sure they didn’t get too comfortable. The last thing the Major needed was a roaming Willow, this time from the Hull, getting in the way of his search.
“How about we run then?”
Despite growing pale and their visible discomfort, Raime had managed to crack a shaky smile. To satisfy his frustration, the Major had halted their progress, and so they ran.
The both of them had managed to catch the aerobus, the Major’s presence swiftly emptying most of it to leave a lot of free seats for them to choose from. As a matter of habit, the colossal frame went to the back, where he would take the least amount of space. Raime took a seat a few rows closer to the center, laying their legs down to take advantage of the uncontested space.
“I don’t even remember the last time I took the bus…”
The Major couldn’t remember if he ever took the aerobus without the Capitán. If he hadn’t been accompanying her, he could manage any distance faster than any vehicle in Last Kunlun. Whereas being around her was a privilege, chaperoning Raime still felt like punishment for something he couldn’t figure out he’d done. This one kept throwing topics of conversations at him, unphased by him being unwilling to respond, clearly intent on not keeping the voyage silent.
“Did I ever take the bus? Well at least once, hey, did you know I got abandoned on an aerobus?”
“How could I have known?” The Major replied, the topic suddenly too heavy for him to blatantly ignore.
“I dunno, I supposed the Cors have some kind of register for that kind of thing.”
“Not even City Hall would bother with keeping track of all children that have been left behind.”
“Even now?”
The Major looked at them, turning his head instead of just keeping them in his periphery. The odd rebuttal inadvertently made him focus on the conversation. Was this a smug smile he could see on their face? Such an uncouth question, if the Major had been theoretically capable of birthing children, this would have been a terribly inconsiderate question to ask.
“Do you think…” Raime continued, not letting the Major answer, “If the Stillborn were to be reversed, somehow, people would still leave their kids behind?”
Logically, the Major could guess, but he figured Raime wasn’t truly asking for his opinion, so he didn’t voice it and went back to ignoring them. His attention went back to the outside of the bus, even if he hadn’t been searching for them, the Major couldn’t escape the eyes of everyone who glanced at him in passing. As they left the Minnow Gardens to enter Byzance, the streets got busier, the imposing architecture of the district proudly directing them towards Kunlun Plaza. However, this was not their destination. His spine still crooked, the Major slowly made his way towards the doors of the aerobus.
“This is as close as we will get.”
“Out now. Got it, got it.”
Out of the aerobus, they both went back to running without question. Even intentionally slowing down, the Major still strode ahead of Raime, who otherwise didn’t struggle keeping up with him. The usual frightened stares from passerby the Major was used to seeing whenever he would break into a sprint in the streets of Last Kunlun were now replaced with a unique blend of confusion as it probably looked like he was in the process of being chased by a nobody in a suit. The Major couldn’t force himself to find the situation insulting, every face around him, while swiftly coursing through the streets of Byzance, showed something new, amusing. A few faint whistles came out of the joints underneath his shoulders.
Introspection. Actualization.
They finally reached the edge of the district, the Helix hill standing behind the museum. The ornate doors were still closed, not welcoming their efforts to be on time. The Major’s core was cooling down, the exertion was light and he could only feel it slightly turning and shifting in his chest. As for Raime, the Major had seen them sweat much more staring directly at them than they currently were. They were in much better shape than he’d imagined, were all the people of the Hull much more sturdily built? Or was this the result of intensive training? Regardless, they had kept up and now they couldn’t have been too late. Just as the Major took one step leading up to the museum, the small door to the side opened, leaving way to a bright eyed Sihvan.
“What would I do if you weren’t always on time… Come on in then.”
The Major exerted himself to not let out a whistle of satisfaction. He could feel Raime shifting on their feet behind them. The sentence had been aimed at him, and they probably still felt some amount of guilt after crashing down during Sihvan’s class. The Major would not intervened, the burden will weigh as it should.
“Did you sleep well?” Sihvan snickered as Raime made their way inside.
“I’m so sorry… I should’ve just waited outside.”
“Hey, it was a new experience for me, usually if people get bored they just leave to go sleep at home. I admit I left the final say to Major because I just didn’t know what to do.”
“Won’t happen again.”
“I sure hope so, even at this point, there is a minimum amount of etiquette to follow in Universalis, hm?”
Raime nodded sternly. Uninterested in their emotional resolution, the Major’s attention went again to the inside of the great ornate doors, still as tightly shut as they were yesterday. The day before, he had expressed, openly, that he had wanted to see them open, that he would take on the task if given permission. Would he ask? The six fingers of his right hand stretched and clenched into a fist, in a cascading motion. As the small door went shut, darkness enveloped them.
“Now we head for the first floor, watch where you walk.”
They both silently followed Sihvan, their trust in him, or maybe just their respective curiosity, guiding them through the darkened halls. Through another set of black glass doors, the group reached a separated stairway, brightly lit in white. The narrow windows the Major could see from the bottom of the stairs were boarded up as well, which made the wall lights reflect strongly upon every surface. The stark difference in lighting made Raime blink heavily. Even if not as affected, the Major’s lenses abruptly adjusted, shifting their vertical axis. Sihvan didn’t seem intent on explaining the odd dichotomy as he headed up the stairs.
“What’s with THIS light show?” Raime asked, still squinting their eyes.
“Hm? Oh, I guess I really ended up getting used to it,” Sihvan said, stopping halfway up to the first floor, “It’s an… initiative from my predecessor. What we handle, what’s left in this place is fragile. If not encased in glass books would turn to dust, if not hidden from the Sun’s light colors from murals would fade…” he laughed to himself, “Before I came here, even the stairs were pitch black, but that’s just asking for people to get hurt, right? There’s nothing to protect here, so it’s best if anyone coming to the museum can climb up and down without tripping.”
The Major noticed it again, the rare white lights that illuminated them were of the same hue as the garlands that adorned the statue of the Marrow Tree in the cloister, the very same as the Sun’s. A surprising choice, given how diligently boarded up the entire museum was, one could expect them to embrace the full spectrum of colors the Sun didn’t allow under its gaze. This choice could have played a part in the museum’s severe lack of popularity. It seemed that even though Sihvan wasn’t responsible for most of these structural decisions, he hadn’t decided to strip them apart completely. They reached the first floor, stepping back into the dark.
“My eyes are gonna get sore at this rate,” Raime said.
The Major detected more humor than a genuine complaint but this could still be read as one. Flimsy eyeballs.
“The whole presentation,” Sihvan continued, seemingly unbothered, “Is my design, the projectors, the spotlights of warm lights. If it were only up to my predecessor, this entire building would be darker than dark, letting nothing spill through. But that would be a dud of a museum, don’t you think?”
After numerous mention of the character, the Major tried to recall if the previous curator of the museum of Mythos was someone he’d been aware of. The attempt to find a face to match the role didn’t bear any results. Was he still alive to begin with? The sudden empty space in the Major’s cognitive space wasn’t important. He was here for a reason and that was not to make small talk.
“Now, enough preambles. You two came here seeking something, “freak shit”, was it? Vague as it is, I can offer a glimpse into the depths this planet has seen. I don’t know if you’ll both find what you’re looking for but, regardless, I think this is something worthy of being seen once. This is why I maintain this place, even now.”
Even as his lenses adapted, the Major still walked carefully. Sihvan’s mention of how brittle everything around him was spiked his sense of carefulness. Shoulders in, head low, movements stiff and precise, so as not to bump into anything. Sihvan had never made a comment on his size, nary a warning for him. The Major would respect this untold trust, and he would listen, as he always has. The first floor couldn’t be distinguished from the ground floor except for what adorned the walls. Where down below, there were glass cases of varying sizes, and altars supporting them, the hall they were now crossing had great murals spanning across the walls. Sihvan hadn’t stopped at the first one, instead continuing confidently deeper into the building. The Major could see Raime had noticed as well, they kept walking but here and there, they’d try to squint out a detail of the passing murals to not much success. The Major couldn’t make out much himself, the material was of stone and not cloth, that was as much as he could discern. The sparse and feeble orange lights keeping the halls from absolute dark only accentuated the shadows cast against the murals. The etchings were also too subtle for him to comprehend what he was looking at. Maybe not all of these would be relevant for them. To think Sihvan’s predecessor was intent on keeping everything around here in this state. Who would they be for? If not for Sihvan, no human nor myrrh would ever be able to see the details of these pieces again. The professor stopped, once again reaching for a tablet on the wall, but this time reaching for a small remote after tapping on the device. His hand passed lightly over the remote’s surface, as if to familiarize himself again with the controls.
“Questions later by the way,” Sihvan whispered.
The both of them nodded, even though Sihvan probably wouldn’t have been able to see it.
“One millennium ago, Jiù ēn came to this system, they had followed a beacon, a pulse of intent ringing far into the stars. They answered, as is their design, landed on this planet and offered a bridge to and from Sol for those who were graced by their hands. The bridge was formed and well, you’re now both familiar with the rest. But what was it that called to the sky? What had Terra felt, before their touch? Why did this planet needed to be granted salvation?”
Sihvan activated the remote, shifting a spotlight to illuminate the mural next to him. Finally in full view, the Major could understand how he had struggled to understand the shapes presented to him in the dark. For how big the mural was, spanning almost as tall as the ceiling and longer than all of them put side to side, it was detailed as if it was carved with a needle. The main piece of the mural was impossible to ignore. The Marrow Tree, as they had seen in the cloister, was depicted in full bloom. The Major assumed it to be so, as unlike the statues in Last Kunlun, the tree on the mural wasn’t only a concrete white, its branches, wavering upward like flowing water were accompanied by a rainbow of colors, culminating in a halo of gradients embracing a deep yellow star, above the tree itself. There were even more details, hidden to the side of the roots, figures with antlers, crowns and capes all looking up towards the tree. Raime’s surprise made sense, looking at this mural, it was hard to imagine this was a sight that had truly taken place.
“An excerpt from the Old Sacraments of Earth says; “Thus bloomed the Marrow Tree, the eternal flora, untouched by time, so that the earth might mend its wounds and usher in another day, for whoever was left to see it.”, this is an interpretation, not directly related to this mural. This one and all the others you will see today were etched by one person, in the short time between the Marrow Tree’s bloom and Jiù ēn’s arrival. They aren’t signed, have no descriptions and thus the veracity of their contents isn’t infallible. However due to the obviously exhaustive nature of what it portrays, and the sensible time frame of their creation, I have, and all others before me in this museum, decided to take them as fact. The Marrow Tree still stands, Jiù ēn openly bowed in reverence to its design, that is proof enough for me to show it to you both today.”
The Major heard Raime gulp, they had crossed their arms, slightly biting their bottom lip. An attempt to prevent them from blurting out a question perhaps. His attention went back to the mural, it was still complicated for him to conceptualize this odd tree truly existing. The Major trusted Sihvan of course, but hearing him just now sounded like the professor was trying to convince himself as much as them.
“Raime, parts of what you’ll see today will feel familiar, but I want to emphasize that the story that had been read to you as a child is incomplete. You will recognize some faces, but the story that had been written after Jiù ēn’s arrival is based on only three of those murals. You can begin to understand why the tale is… convoluted, to keep it polite.”
Sihvan’s hand pointed upwards, to the yellow star above the tree.
“Before we move on, we can appreciate what our Sun used to look like, when it still had some juice in him. I believe none of us here ever saw it any other color than white, hm?”
The Major and Raime both nodded. As Sihvan activated his remote once more, and the spotlight slowly moved to the opposite wall, the Major felt the Capitán’s presence to his side. He swiftly looked at nothing, and then back, mentally reeling in the confusion. Neither Raime nor Sihvan seemed to have noticed. He turned around with them, this mural was harder to make sense of. Abstract shapes, separated by different color schemes, looked to be in opposition of each other. To the left, deep oranges draped under soot blacks weaving into each other fluidly. To the right, the same rainbow of colors that decorated the Marrow Tree’s branches, however they were orderly arranged in angular shapes, taking full extent of the three dimensional aspect of the mural to pierce deeper and grow bigger out of the stone. No arms to brandish weapons, no eyes to glare at each other, but both assortments of shapes were not paired harmoniously. Was it an obvious guess from him?
“From the pages of the Marrow Tree’s tale, “The Dark and the Light, the immutable Nothing against the unyielding Everything, forgetting old adages and unkept promises, devoured each other, stuck in a never ending dance, threatening to rend all around them asunder.” It gives them personality, don’t you think? Looking at this mural for the first time… I assumed it to be a representation of forces of nature beyond anyone’s control, but maybe it was less complicated, or more complicated depending on how you see it. Either way, they were the catalyst, the final ultimatum for humanity and from their defeat, their subjugation, or their banishment, the Marrow Tree bloomed. With Dark and Light running rampant, Jiù ēn would have never crossed Sol, and we wouldn’t be where we are today. You might have noticed I’m going backward with this story, this is intentional, I trust this won’t be too difficult to follow than if I went in chronological order. There is only one mural left that made up the tale of the Marrow Tree, the one about who stood against these insurmountable forces.”
Back on the opposite wall, closer to where they’d come from, another mural lit up. Would that truly be convenient placement? Unlike the shapes of the last mural, this one depicted a few human like individuals. The Major wasn’t confident about his assessment due to the artistic depiction, but he at least knew none of them could have been myrrish. They had the right amount of limbs to be human, that was the least he could interpret, but their faces were all obscured, not showing any traits on their visages. The four of them didn’t appear glorious, as the Major expected them to since Sihvan introduced them only as those who faced annihilation. From left to right, one was hooded, slightly hunched over, their cloak hiding their face under darkness, the most unremarkable out of the bunch, except for what appeared to be a cage containing a lone flower, strapped to their back. One was standing proud, their shoulders square and their hands raised into fists, boasting an intricate vest represented with subtle gemstones carved into it, their face was covered by a great cross, the horizontal line blocking their eyes. One had its face covered by a gaping maw, the shape of a diamond, this pattern repeated over their body and a half broken halo decorated their head. The last one especially, caught the Major’s attention. This one was crooked, their limbs ever slightly stretched out that they looked unnatural, their whole body was covered in the same wavy branches of the Marrow Tree, culminating in a helm doubling as a crown. The four of them weren’t sculpted to be presented doing anything in particular, they were all facing different directions, especially not towards each other. Much like the mural with Light and Dark, their group wasn’t arranged in harmony, forever remembered in quiet dissonance.
“Terra’s last knights, Raime can probably recognize them, but their names speak from themselves. The Flower Knight, the Nail Knight, the Lunar Knight and the one who defied fate.”
“The Marrow Knight,” Raime whispered.
“Easy to recognize, aren’t they? I wish we could’ve known anything from them, their names, their goals, their wants, why weren’t they depicted hand in hand against the flood. All we know is they were all human, no matter how unfamiliar they may look here. It’s… hard to call it a war, this cataclysm that befell humanity is one of unimaginable scale. This conflict between Dark and Light, it spread throughout the entire planet, data recovered from before Jiù ēn turned completely blank, as if it had been erased from existence itself, papers found had their writing turned into unrecognizable gibberish, even to the most talented interprets. If these four hadn’t intervened, the whole planet, maybe the entire system would have been lost. But how did they come across the strength to stand up to such unthinkable power?”
Back to the opposite wall, the spotlight changed once more. This time, the mural was smaller, focusing only on one center piece. The Major saw Raime’s eyes light up, the mural in front of them depicted the aforementioned Lunar Knight, with the diamond shaped depression in place of a face. Above them, what looked like another astral body. Unlike the Sun, it was gray and covered with craters, tied to their body with filaments. The Knight themselves was reaching out to the moon, arms outstretched. Veneration? The principles of faith had long left Last Kunlun but the Major was sure he had seen this kind of prayer before. Around the edges of the mural, scales like mosaics of varying sizes replicated the cold colors of both the moon and the Lunar Knight.
“The Knights, were each granted with an opportunity. We cannot know if it was a gift or a curse, but it gave them, ordinary humans that would have otherwise been crushed beneath the tide, the chance to make their stand. You remember the calendar on the ground floor? Humanity of old measured the days between the Sun and Terra’s moon. This one that the Lunar Knight reaches out to. As to where it has gone between now and then, the murals don’t give any insight, maybe its remnants are here somewhere on Terra, your guess is as good as mine. Raime’s surprise yesterday didn’t come as a shock, the tale of the Marrow Tree mentions the Lunar Knight but mistakenly assumes the Knight had been tied to Ares’s two moons. If you followed well, you’d remember this mural wasn’t discovered when the tale had been written. But here they are, in symbiosis with Terra’s moon, to stand against fate.”
While Sihvan was talking, the Major heard Raime exhale from their nose, hard to know whether the resolution of their previous query was satisfactory for them. As for him, it felt like he was inching closer. Powers defying rules of causality, in the hands of ordinary humans, even in tales old of a thousand years, resembled the anomaly he had stepped through in the underbelly. Holding on to that trail, Sihvan stood in the middle of the four murals, while three were still darkened, he clicked repeatedly on the remote and the spotlight divided itself into four, keeping one on the Lunar Knight and lighting the other murals in turn.
“The Nail Knight, embraced by fire, tied to themselves by the anchor buried in their skull. Reaching ever higher, burning ever brighter, to stand against fate. The Flower Knight, burdened by the unknowable, draped in their own shadow. Incomplete and unprepared, yet marching on, to stand against fate.”
The Major and Raime looked around, following Sihvan’s words, in complete silence, absorbed in the sudden cascade of information. The final mural finally lit up, prompting them to turn around one last time, and the both of them froze.
The mural showed the Marrow Knight, their armor of branches twisting and expanding around them. A sea of hands and mangled faces, swarmed from under them, reaching desperately to hang on, their limbs contorting in grotesque angles upon contact with the Marrow Knight’s body. Their own crown had grown larger, its branches reaching higher and weaving in and out of itself, still hiding their face but letting through an unsymmetrical assortment of six eyes, looking up at them. The eyes, misshapen, grossly protruding out of the helm, shone under the dim light, reflecting subtle and complex carvings, showing every detail of the fragmented irises. Under the ever slightly flickering spotlights, surrounded by shadows, it was as if the knight’s eyes individually peered through the Major’s body, following the rhythm of the wind coursing through his frame.
This couldn’t be more specific, it was as if the Major was looking at the underbelly again. This was it, this was it. He couldn’t restrain a whistle that startled Raime. They were also visibly taken aback by the graphic display and he couldn’t blame them. Noone would have to be subjected to seeing this aberrantion once they were done. Now that they were on the right track, the safe future of Sihvan, Raime and the rest of Last Kunlun was all but guaranteed.
“From the excerpts of the Old Sacraments of Earth; “Thus rose the Marrow Knight, so that humanity might take its final step.”, and so they rose, to stand against fate.”
Sihvan clicked once more on the remote, focusing the light only on the Marrow Knight’s mural. He cleared his throat and looked to study the reactions of his audience.
“Good enough for “freak shit”, hm?” Sihvan said with a satisfied smile.
Raime nodded slowly, their lips pressed tightly against each other. Their curiosity seemed to have been sated, if not sobering them up completely.
“It is more than I could have asked for, professor, thank you very much for your time,” The Major said, bowing to Sihvan.
“Oh my, oh my, you’re doing too much, it’s my pleasure, really!”
Leaving the spotlight to their idle stance, they all headed back down to the ground floor, Raime staying uncharacteristically silent while the Major and Sihvan exchanged more words. The Major kept them in his periphery, but aside from grimacing from the stairs blinding lights, they just kept their hands in their pockets, looking to the ground as if it had any more answers to give. Well, now that this ordeal was over, they never had to cross each others path ever again, whatever personal mission they had been on when coming to the museum of Mythos was not his concern. The Major was tasked with making sure people like Raime could continue roaming endlessly around this city, in search of their heart’s desire.
“There’s still a ton more to see here, even if it isn’t as impressive, you’re both welcome back any time! See you tomorrow, Major?”
“I will be there.”
Shooting a final thumbs up, the small door closed behind them and they were both left once more on the museum’s steps. Sundown was well on its way, and the night sky was beginning to take its place, lights were lighting up in the street and noise all around him grew louder by the minute. Raime went to a pillar close to the great doors and sat against it, looking straight at the Major. Were they jealous of his overt satisfaction? Had they been looking for such solace? For shame, maybe they should take Sihvan on his offer and scour the museum some more. The Major began walking down the steps.
“What are you gonna do now?” Raime attempted.
It was not something they needed to know. It was not something he would decide.
“I still have much I need to do, you as well should keep going forward.”
“Then why don’t we help them?”
From behind the pillar Raime was sitting against, the Capitán stepped out of the shadows. Raime had been startled by the sudden appearance, but the Major saw the exact instant where they realized who was now standing beside them, their face replicating the sheer terror he had seen when meeting him for the first time. The Major couldn’t restrain another whistle from his neck.