Chapter 2:
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The wind, as always, carried the sounds of long lost souls. To the wind, these were memoirs to be carried for thousands of years. Those that died, must not suffer. Yet those that live cannot simply forget these changes. The wind will make sure they don't.
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Among those souls that the wind pampered, the one that burned the brightest was of the God of Happiness. After all, no one could forget that golden silhouette that even set the night sky ablaze, that turned the darkness upside down and harnessed the power to heal even the deepest of wounds.
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But most importantly, no one would forget that song that purified mortals through their very soul. Its melody played on the lyre traveled alongside the wind and enlightened all with its glory. Red roses bloomed across the land like swarming water and the seeds of happiness bloomed inside the citizens as if the god had cherished them with his own light and watered them with his own blood.
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The feeling of happiness had been divine, Vigre had heard. Even now, when most mortals had forgotten the feeling of Voikairy being carried by the wind across the lands, one certainly could recognize even the veinest of efforts.
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Vigre had been told that the god of Happiness was purple and gold. So gold it even dulled out the purpleness of the gown he often wore. Those narrow but beautiful eyes that held nothing but softness and sympathy, and those ever smiling sharp yet soft lips that only uttered the truth and nothing else. When one walked on the streets of the Capital called Shanghania, they’d often see a golden silhouette as bright as the sun pass by them with a frenzy of waist-long blonde hair.
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It has been ages since one saw those wisdomful eyes and the face with the right mixture of beauty, kindness and a parent-like hardness.
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Such memories swarmed through Vigre as he heard the song being played in the distance. It was by no means accurate, and yet, the song was by far the closest anyone has gotten to the original Vokairy.
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Vokairy, the tune often playing on the Lyre, the tune that had been forgotten, it reminded Vigre of the old times. The happier times. The sun had already started to sink and the surroundings lightened up dimly. It was the Port quo roses, they often glowed in the dark to help travelers locate the directions through the village.
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Amidst the dense forest with tall Port quo trees (whose fruits glowed the same way the roses did) perched on a stone bench was a man who had seen better days. He had somehow learned to play the tune of Vokairy on a flute with precision. Without knowing, Vigre moved towards the man as if being pulled towards the burning heat of the sun.
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The man’s eyes opened when Vigre unexpectedly stepped on a twig and an unpleasant noise rang through their ears. As the man stared at him, Vigre coughed and composed himself. He later smiled, seemingly understanding Vigre’s sentiments. But no one can truly understand them. Vigre thought.
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He smiled back at the old man “Is that Vokairy I hear?”
The stranger laughed “You seemed to like it”
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Vigre nodded, still smiling “You’ve got a good tune, sir” he said as a way of apologizing for disturbing him.
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“He was a beautiful musician, wasn’t he?” Even without mentioning the name of the person in question (or god in question in this case), Vigre knew who he was talking about. “As legend would have it” he continued “Flowers are said to bloom around him when he sings.”
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“You say it as if the god of Happiness is dead”
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He shook his head “I know not if the god is dead. I stand in no position to question either him or the circumstances. He’ll need a good enough reason to come back to the people who turned their backs on him” At his side, Shiwy made a sigh of approval.
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Vigre laughed “Perhaps. Even so, I think being able to play Vokairy at all is credible enough. In this land, where the god of happiness is gone, I think what the people need most is not the god himself, but a thread that will keep them tied to this world. Vokairy serves as that thread. I reckon it as a force that can unify people and grant them enough power to emerge through these circumstances together. That’s why, I think you have an amazing tune”
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“Are you a traveller?” After looking at the Keepsake at Vigre’s side he says “Ah! So you’re a prisoner. You’re a good child” He laughs “It must be tough for you. There’s a tavern at the end of the road. Go take shelter. Tell them that Shoang has sent you.”
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“Is Shoang your name?” After a nod, Vigre bows “Then I shall call you Shoang henceforth. I will be indebted to you for a while for lending me a shelter. Call on me if there is an end you cannot reach.” After a pause though, Vigre couldn’t help but add “But would there happen to be some books inside which I can read?”340Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Wk7XcnNP9
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“Yes indeed. There’s a library just beside the tavern. They lend books to all those who stay in for the night.”
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“They seem generous.”
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“Indeed. Lately we’ve been saving a lot of books about the god of happiness to remind people of the deity who had once protected this civilization. People can be easy to manipulate should they be presented with the right evidence. Just the way they had been convinced to abandon him, we hope we could convince them to join his side once again.”
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“I... cannot say if that will work. Guilt and sorrow has been eating on the people for a long time. Asking them to join his side again would be like asking them to forget even the tiniest amount of shame they have left. There exists a word ‘ego’ for certain reasons”
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“Humans sure are typical.” Shiwy said, crossing her arms mid-air “They make mistakes and refuse to accept it.” she hmphed “It’s frustrating.”
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“I cannot fully agree with their way of expressing guilt but I believe it is more complicated than it seems.”
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“It is a hard choice,” Shoang agrees.
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After expressing their gratitudes to Shoang for lending them shelter, both Vigre and Shiwy depart to the given address silently.
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The path ahead is a silent one. Vigre couldn’t help but look at the wings of butterflies that passed by them once in a while amidst the rear of the canopy.
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The blue glow from the fruits of the trees lightened up the canopy and mingled with the blue sky up ahead, where the moon seemed to greet them through the clouds. Below were the post quo roses which had a yellow tint to them.
`
They curved toward the seductive cluster of ivy in the distance, it’s leaves curving and artistically shaved branches that seemed to call out to travellers. The path glowed with subdued roses that were blown away by the wind.
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Vigre picked one up. There wasn’t much left of the roses, only three petals left for feast of the eye. It came alive in the caress of his hand. It’s Colors were a beautiful blend of strength and humanity, the feeling of peacefulness spreading where it’s glow encased him.
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The light of the rose glowing yellow in the dreadful abyss. His pupils dilated and the lower curves of his eyes reflected the glow. His eyes were a blue shade but, he noticed with fascination as he gazed at his reflection in the rose, that they looked almost golden. What a fascinating colour.
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Sounds of music flooded out from an open arena as they left the gloomy forest behind and entered into an open decadent village. Surrounding the arena were old-styled bamboo houses with bamboo roofs, built thoroughly for temporary use.
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Lamps were hung from the roofs of the neatly lined houses with a hook. The arena was big and donut-shaped with a huge cooking pot settled over a giant oven. It was double the size of Vigre and seemed to house some suspicious looking liquid.
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He could feel waves of disapproval leaking from Shivy but she (thankfully) remained silent. Around the pot, a group of villagers danced with odd tribal music playing in the background.
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Vigre sighed and walked over to the house Shoang had mentioned with Shivy following in the shadow. The house was of the same built like the rest of the village and was guarded by a female digging into a bottle of (supposedly) alcohol.
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She finished it in one quick motion and wiped her mouth clean. As they both neared she gave a hearty laugh and said “you two! Over here. Ah! A prisoner with a keepsake. Haven’t seen those in a while”
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“Your fascination sure surprises me.” Vigre said. Shivy, on his side, looked completely riled with how loud the guard was.
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The guard laughed again “Why worry. Keepsakes are good at their jobs after all.” A drowsy laugh “after all, if you happen to” a hiccup “steal anything I’m sure the keepsake will…”
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“Uh…is she asleep?” Vigre questioned as the female who had been leaning on the door of the house sagged on the ground, her legs sparse on the stairs of the house.
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Both Vigre and Shiwy turned to each other. “What do we do now?” He asked.
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“Push this wringing mortal aside and step into the house, that’s what we do” Not surprising.
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“Hold your horses. It’s the night before a festival, our people are only enjoying a vacation. Shoang sent you, I’d wager.” They both nod. on their side is a female with a fair showcase of muscles and brute strength.“Here's the key, you can have the house for the night. I’m Val by the way, and this woman here is Cecilia. If there is anything you need, do come to me. As our guests, you are free attend the festival, if that is what you wish”
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“Ah…no. We’re fine.” Vigre gives an awkward laugh remembering the suspicious soup in the pot.
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…
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Vigre wasn’t surprised when he found that the bed in the old hut only looked regal for the sake of it. It was an uncomfortable pellet of cloth stuffed together to give it shape. Neither was he surprised when he awoke in the middle of the night due to nightmares. He thought he’d had his fine share of surprises already and there wasn’t much left in this world that could surprise him.
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Turns out he was wrong. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for this sort of a situation. There was a loud pounding on the door, stricken and desperate. Screaming his name, seemingly pronouncing it wrong. Although his name was Vigre, it was pronounced more like Vir-eh.
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He grumbled and dragged himself off the bed like a cluster of hay, drowsy with sleep and barely holding himself upright. With fascination he noticed that although it was way past midnight, the village outside was quite noisy.
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Upon opening the door, the panicked face of Val was revealed. Her hair was a mess, as if she had run straight to his house as soon as she woke up. Her thick mascara was spread all over her eyes and although Vigre hadn’t seen her wear makeup earlier, somehow her face looked as bare as it could be.
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Behind her, the village was in tatters. The large pot they had seen before was now empty-and just as broken. It’s shattered pieces, now dust, lay on the ground, way past repair, and blood spreading around some of the pieces that had been perhaps stepped upon by feet desperate to search for shelter. On the far end of the arena, there lay an unmoving body of an old woman along with the terribly sorry state of the make-shift houses.
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They were only bamboo after all, loosely woven together to simply shetler them and give them a sense of security. They served no grander purpose. The lamps that were hung down from the roofs of the houses had fallen down and shattered, oil leaking from them. There was noise, and yet there wasn’t a soul to be seen.
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“Vigre, you need to leave” Val said. She sounded perplexed and helpless. Rubbing a sleeve torn at the seams over a thin streak of blood flowing down from a cut near her eyebrow.
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“What’s wrong?” Vigre asked, not in the slightest baffled by current circumstances. Although he felt unprepared for what’s to come, he didn’t think it was anything that couldn’t be controlled. And although there were people who were clearly dead already, he knew that nothing could be done about it. Thinking too hard would only fuel his helplessness.
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Val gritted her teeth in agitation. “It’s beyond explanation, Vigre, I-“
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“Is that the smell of corrupted spirits?” Shiwy inquired, flying to his side rubbing her eyes. She seemed to have woken up due to all the noise. Vigre felt sorry, after all, it has been a while since she’s been able to get a decent sleep.
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She turned to Val, having been way quicker than Vigre in adapting to the situation. “Primitive mortal, what’s the situation?” Vigre couldn’t help but give her a look of amusement. It was quite intriguing how this little thing who looked way beyond mortals commanded all life forms and looked down at them when it reached her interest. Though, he knew, this surely wasn’t a time to be amused.
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Val sighed. “Corrupted spirits are possessing the people of our village.”
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Taking a look around, Vigre said “They seem…quite ferocious.” After a while, Vigre motioned toVal “come with me…I might know something”
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…
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They searched around the village and apparently the library was the only building that stood upright through the testaments. It seemed to be the only well developed building in the village. Unlike the make-shift bamboo houses, the library was made of bricks painted a creamy white.
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On the inside it housed huge shelves with thousands and millions of books. Vigre had to refrain himself from screaming “treasure!” From the pointed look Shiwy gave his way, she seemed to know his heart well. The shelves were made of mahogany wood embossed with golden designs.
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Above, tons of chandeliers hung, shrouded from the danger that loomed outside. The ceiling was lined with chandeliers that seemed to cover for the lack of lights. A huge, three story long staircase began at the other end of the hallway, spiralling up the never ending library.
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Vigre didn’t want to wreak havoc in this treasure dungeon but a shrill cry from outdoors spurred him on. “Push these shelves aside” Vigre said as he began emptying up space in the cavernous library. Soon they had cleared the lower floor entirely — at the cost of their sanity.
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The library had been transformed entirely from a treasure dungeon to a masquerade hall. Vigre guessed it must have been some sort of a safe house before.
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Now only one thing was left.
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“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” asked Shiwy, roused by Vigre slicing at his wrist with a knife without preamble. Drops of blood dripped on the floor and a thin streak of mass was visible through the scab on his hand caused due to repetitive cuts to draw blood for rituals performed in short intervals.
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“I’m making a blood pentagram, of course,” Vigre explained. Shiwy looked despondent at the revelation of the earth-shattering news, as if Vigre had stepped on her very foundations.
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“You are not allowed to make those. As article 5000 states, you are not, and I repeat, NOT to use any sort of rituals that call upon the magical foecé.”
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“Listen immortal prison guard, this is a life and death situation. If you want to live; adapt. Unless you’re fine with limping around like a Zombie.”
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Shiwy crosses her arms “it is most surprising that a mere mortal should have the nerve to speak to me in such a scornful manner. I might as well have vapourized you had it not been for article 6540 that prohibits keepsake from any-”
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“Now, ladies, let's not fight shall we.” Vigre interrupts.
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“Is the blood pentagram complete?” Shiwy ‘hmphed’ in the background.
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“Not entirely. The arrangements sure are complete but we need to attract the corrupted spirits to us” He say.
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Upon seeing Val’s confused look Vigre explains “It’s a known fact that after someone dies, their body releases energy, mythically speaking, it's called a soul. It doesn't have a physical form and can’t withstand Litch’s power anymore, thus comes the need to ascend. But when it comes to magic borns, this same energy is called a spirit. Spirits are highly affected by the nature of magic their owner uses”
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“Those who use magic of a darker nature are more likely to become corrupted souls. Unlike elemental magic which comes from nature itself, dark magic originates from the residue that is left after we use magic. Although human nature is by no means consistent, it certainly is disastrous. Too much exposure to it causes pure spirits to become corrupted. These spirits then possess innocent people and suck on their life energy to strengthen themselves. By creating this blood pentagram, I’m feigning my lifeforce to attract these spirits, but as I said, these spirits do not have a physical form. To truly capture them, we must first confine them in a vessel and then destroy them.”
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“And this vessel you speak of...”
“Is a human body of course” Shiwy explains on my behalf.
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I nod “If you could get a human body to us, we might be able to save your village from further casualties.”
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“But” Val says, “Where do I get a dead body from?”
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“There was one outside in the arena.” Vigre says remembering the limp body of the old woman he’d seen while crossing the arena.
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Val’s eyes were as round as the moon “But-But that’s the village elder’s body. I can’t do that.”
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“That’s ironic since I remember you telling me that you didn’t wish to limp around like a zombie” Shiwy says, crossing her arms and looking at Val through the corner of her eye.
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Vigre sighed. “A dead body is a dead body, no matter who it is” Before Val could rebel Vigre explained further “It might sound wrong to you but this extermination will not harm the Village elder’s body.”
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With reluctance she agreed and left.
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“You sure master the art of rubbing salt in someone’s wounds”
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A small smile plays on her lips “‘Tis necessary for survival.”
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Vigre chuckles and gets busy with completing the blood pentagram and lighting up the candles. He hadn’t been lying when he said that spirits can be corrupted if their owner uses a darker kind of magic.
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But he hadn’t been entirely honest either. The truth is that dark magic is not much different from elemental magic, however it was the perception of the people of this world about the darker power that found home within. Dark magic is forbidden because it not only uses the residue left by elemental magic, but it also hurts the user's body.
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The magic Vigre had used to draw the blood pentagram was dark too since it sucked energy from his own body, but it didn't pose him any threat thus he was allowed to use it. Dark magic uses the life force of its users to create magic, however, in Vigre’s case, who was an immortal, his life force would never fade since he would never age at all.
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After Val came back with the dead body, she was taken away by Shiwy so the spirits wouldn’t attack them while Vigre exorcised them.
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Soon after they bid Val their farewells since its was going to be long before they could all see each other again.
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