Chapter 24: 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.

  Then the gate swallowed them inside, and the city breathed.

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

  As they wove through the marketplace, their eyes swept the market. 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 by 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.

  The hum of people gossiping and bartering filled the air. Suddenly a cat darted from a low roof, swiping at a startled customer’s hand. A clay cup tumbled, shattering against the cobbles, but the sound vanished into the crowd's roar.

  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, from a short distance away, a bell rang, not of a temple but of a shop charm.

  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 cover every gate, ignoring a mystery was better to understand.

  Hao Yu's breath hitched as he stared frozen in awe at the juggler, a small gasp escaping. 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 the first time she'd 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 sighed, “I'd love to,” his hands raised in a shrug. “We don't have money to buy anything.”

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

  "Well, my bank account is as thin as the soles of my boots…” Mo Fei said and looked around.

  There was a baker at a stall who caught Mo Fei's gaze and was 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.

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  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 said. Not a question

  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. She didn't repeat herself.

  He moved.

  As the baker wrapped the bread, the wife kept looking at him for any kind of suspicious movement. She looked 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… 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 Silent Pages,' and beneath it, embedded in Mandarin, ‘The Page Turner’ (翻页者) and the number 7. (柒)

  “We are ascenders… and we want pages of ‘descent’ ritual.” The wife stayed silent considering the words.

  “So you'll want to go to the Temple of 'Bleakstone.' West side, past the tanner's row. The archivists there trade in old things. Pages, if that's what you're after, though the "Astral Cult" controls these countries.”

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

  The woman smiled. It wasn't warm. “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, 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,” he said. “or probably.”

  Hao Yu tore into the loaf like it would disappear. Xin Yi held hers, not eating, just holding it and staring at the bread longer. Lin noticed that it was like a fly caught in amber. Lin didn't say anything, just moved a step closer.

  Zhuo held the bread and bit into it, swallowing a piece. It wasn't enough but enough to give them a little strength to walk for a while.

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

  Mo Fei looked down at him. "Yeah," he said. “Probably.”

  “I like bread." Hao Yu nodded, satisfied. In his world, “probably” was enough. The piece of bread was a luxury to them but also a question to Mo Fei, which 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 never seen it so close, the soft kind.”

  No one knew what to say. And she chewed the bread. The bite tasted like nothing.

  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 southern cult. Symbols carved above doorways. Followers walking in grey robes, silent, 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 like water around a stone. He didn't move. Didn't blink. Just watched, his focus shifting to the crowd walking, watching the movement of their clothes and feet with the eyes of a falcon, keen and precise.

  A grey robe passed too close. Jian Yue's hand went to his blade, an instinct, not an intention. But the cultist didn't react. Didn't even look. But Jian Yue felt something brush against his mind. Curiosity? Or something he couldn't comprehend. He said nothing and walked faster.

  And Mo Fei, who had noticed it by now even without his eyes, saw something was wrong with this cultist; his good eye caught something. The shadow of the cultist didn't move; there wasn't even a shadow in the first place.

  Mo Fei's good eye stayed on the cultist long after they passed. “Did you see that?” he whispered.

  Jian Yue nodded, barely. “No shadow.”

  “What does that mean?”

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

  The group kept walking as they 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 society? silent and sleeping.

  Lin’s face held a hint of unease.

  “This place”.. a silent place with an unknown fear. “It's awkward.”

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

  “I hope you had stayed deaf.” Lin didn't look at him.

  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; it didn't lift its head. Its eyes were open, tracking them, but the rest of its body was perfectly still.

  “Is it sleeping?” Hao Yu whispered.

  No one answered; they just shook their heads.

  Then after a few hours of walking, the temple rose at the end of the street like a question no one wanted to answer. 'Bleakstone.' The name certainly fits the place.

  The stones were the color of old bruises, and the windows were dark, but not empty. Something moved behind them. Shapes? Silhouettes? Archivists? They didn't know, but they didn't want to know either; knowing more about these meant knowing less of themselves.

  Jian Yue's hand found his blade’s hilt, didn't draw it, but just rested there.

  “We're here.”

  Then.

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

  “The thief of motion. The servant of silence. And the keeper of the gate of heaven… And the ‘Architect’s Apprentice’…and 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.”