Chapter Text
For a city named after light, it was odd that it would be placed underground. Yet here you are, reading a tale taking place in the City of Ilona, or, as it is known in the future, the City of Tears. It was built as a monument to a glorious king who brought light to the intellect of bugs; it will be remembered as a shrine, mourning what once was and the sacrifices it took to preserve it. The king would disappear, and sacrifices fail to appease. All that will be left are tears, tears over the hints of what was and could have been, for all else will be forgotten to time.
Allow me to tell you a tale of what could have been in this grand City. Allow me to tell you a tale where a little knight did not fall off a ledge to an all-consuming abyss. Allow me to tell you a tale where a Watcher can see and reach out to those in need. Allow me to write a tale where at last, pain is undone, and knots are untied.
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It was raining, water pouring over everything and everyone not protected by a roof or tarp. The child didn’t care that the water flowed over one’s body, soaking one to the exoskeleton. The child did not know that the water slipped through the roof of the craven on the day the raging Infection began. The child could not know that all assumed the rain fell due to over digging the craven’s ceiling for taller Spires. How could the child know or care? How could the child when it had only entered this world six days ago?
The child could not tell you why all were concerned that the Lake above would flood the City below. The child could not tell you of the Infection, spoken of in hushed whispers. An Infection that robbed the body of its soul, leaving only a lumbering husk to attack in its wake. The child did not know of the newly made instinct to run when one sees orange. All that the child knew was that it had to flee the abyss, a blackness so deep that it would swallow all light, all color, all sound, and all being. Climb, climb higher to reach the top. No cost too great to reach up higher.
A few days ago, that was not what the child would think about. What the child willed. A few days ago, the child was filled with delight at conquering the challenge of climbing out of Birthplace. Delight at pulling oneself up the ledge instead of falling. Delight at sneaking through the Big Doors to Birthplace before they closed tight.
So quickly that delight was turned into confusion. The Sibling that reached the ledge first had turned back to gaze at the child, but didn’t go back to help the younger, slipping sibling from doom. The Great Light that called all of the siblings up from Birthplace had left, not hearing the silent pleads for help.
Now, the child didn’t know that those were what those feelings were called. The child, after all, was only six days old, abandoned to the cruel world while still in the egg. No one taught the child the names of these feelings, nor had the child put two and two together to realize what these feelings were.
Does one have a mind to think if one has no words to make clear thoughts? Some would say no if so. Those same feel no guilt over killing the mindless for that fact. But the potential to grow is forever there in a child, to be taught and to learn.
These last five days in the Raining City had taught the child a few things. Firstly, the vessel is a child. Secondly, the child is not supposed to be alone and lost. All the children that the vessel had played with over the last few days always had to go home, to the warmth, the dry, and family. At once, this is how the child knew the third thing. The child had climbed out of the Birthplace because the child was seeking Home, a place where one belonged, with warmth, lots of hugs, and someone to love you.
So the child explored, climbing higher away from Birthplace. The dark void abyss was not Home, though the child couldn’t tell you why. Just a deep feeling in one’s gut that spoke clear as the sun at day on the surface. Yet when in the Raining City, the child got lost. No matter how hard the child tried to climb, the child would not leave the Raining City. Yes, the child would get out of the rain, but never leave.
At first, the child didn’t mind. There was so much to see, so much to do. The child easily lost track of time while playing with the other children. But as the days dragged on, with more dead ends being reached, the child grew weary and frustrated still. All other joys and tasks were put aside, other quests ignored. Even the reason for such quests were covered up. Only the will remained to climb higher. Find HOME.
While the will could not be broken, the little body of the hatchling could be. No food, no drink, no sleep, none of these are needed for a vessel to survive. But for a child to grow and mature, they are very much needed. But no one had taught the child of these things. And with the body of the child not telling the child why these aching sighs screamed out so, the child ignored them all and survived. But the call to rest, that the child had to answer, even if sleep was never reached.
And here our story picks up, a child resting on a bench in the rain. A gray cloak hid the child’s arms, while little black legs hung from the stone bench. The child wore a white mask with two little horns curved upwards. The same mask had two large eye holes, allowing you to stare deeply into nothingness. There was nothing in the child’s mind, only the unbroken will to complete the quest. FIND HOME.
Such nothingness consumed the child so that the child didn’t notice that it had stopped raining. It took a calm, but firm voice for the child to even react. “Child.”
The child looked up at the voice. It came from a bug, tall and thin. The bug wore long blue robes and a white mask with a single eye. In one hand, the bug held an umbrella over them both, blocking out the crying water. “Child? Are you alright?” The bug asked, extending an open hand.
The child was too tired to even nod or shake the white mask with curved horns.
“Child, can you speak?” The bug asked, bending down.
The child shook the curved mask. For a vessel, there was no voice to speak or cry of suffering.
“Do you have anywhere to go? Any parents to look after you?”
The child had learned a way to answer that question, with a shrug.
The bug sighed and shook his own head. “Come. Let us get you a safe place to rest and food to eat.” The bug beckoned with his hand.
The child hesitated. Not at the stranger danger, for no one ever taught the child that. No, was this a command or something else? A vessel is built for commands, but a child can receive invitations. An inward feeling pushed the child towards this stranger, the same feeling that pushed it to the good children who would play with the child. Just as the child accepted the children’s invitations, the child now accepted the stranger’s invitation and stretched out their hand.
The two walked through the crying city, shielded by the bug’s umbrella. “I must admit,” the bug said as they passed some lunafly lamps. “I have been watching you over these last five days. A new child wandering through-out my City, but never any caretakers in sight. I believed that your parents would be at home or work while you were at play, but you never went home when all the other children did, simply wandered.”
“At first, I thought you were lost, so I sent out my servants to see if they could find out who your parents are and return you to them. But there was nothing to be found. It was as if they did not exist. But you exist, so they must as well. After all, it takes two to make one, so you had to come from somewhere.” The bug looked down at the child. “Yet it is as if you were born into nowhere and nothing.”
The child said nothing, for nothing could be said. How could anyone know of the Abyss down below the White Palace? Of the Abyss filled with a Sea of Void and the Skulls of Dead Children?
Neither of them, the child or the bug, could know what awaited them due to the Blinding Infection and Hollowed out Knight. For the plan to seal away the Blinding Light had yet to prepare its Three Seals. The Bug who reached out to the child didn’t know that he would be One of the Three sleeping eternally to hold back the Plague of Dreams. Sleeping to only hear an eternity of a child crying for its father for aid, forever unanswered. The Child didn’t know that it was abandoned for this plan, deemed unfit to seal away the Plaguing Light. This unnamed pain ripping the Child hollow would only lend the Child more determination to break kill the Three Seals and take the Hollowed Knight’s place. Or the same pain could turn the Child to deeper ground, unlocking the dream to ascend and consume the Blinding Light whole.
Despite their chance meeting today, both child and bug, Knight and Watcher, could still meet such fates. For both seek to reach out and undo the pain inflicted upon the kingdom. And yet, thanks to this day, a path so unexpected can be easily trod.
“I know that you do not know me, nor my City. We are only strangers to you in our masks and design, made only familiar due to your wanderings. You are a stranger to us as well.” The bug spoke. “But I know what you are, a child in need. Please believe me when I say that this City never lets one of those in need go empty handed.” The bug looked down at the child holding his hand. “As the City’s Watcher, I will see to it that you are cared for. If your parents are looking for you, we shall find them. If we cannot, then I will see to it that you are well cared for. For no child should go unloved, especially here in the City of Ilona.”
The bug lowered his umbrella, the two safe underneath a covering. If the child thought hard enough, perhaps the child would have realized they had stopped at the entrance to the Watcher’s Spire. But the child did not think that hard, only staring in amazement at the bug’s words.
“Welcome to my Spire, Child. My last name is Vigil, but you may call me Lurien. You shall be my ward for the time being, underneath my care and protection. If you let me, I could give you a name for us to call you by.” With practiced ease, Lurien closed his umbrella with one hand, allowing the two entrance into the Watcher’s Spire. Neither realized how the other hadn’t let go of their hand.
The gate to the Spire opened and the two, Child and Bug, walked through. The porter respectfully nodded to the Watcher and waved to the child. Curious, the child looked all around, eventually looking down at the floor. The child was standing on a stone cut with eight sides. The carved design on the stone was a clam shell, though the child wouldn’t know the name for the shell. What the child did know is that water was dripping from the child onto the carved shell, filling it up.
Two servants came forward; one took away Lurien’s umbrella and hood while the other wiped down the wet child. They were so good at their jobs that the servants soon left the two to travel deeper into the Spire. It was only when the child reached the end of the hallway did the child realize that meant going higher.
Lurien had them both stand inside a strange box before reaching up to a lever. Yanking the lever suddenly caused the box to lift up, taking the child and bug with it. Unconscious of the deed, the child gripped Lurien’s hand tighter but otherwise did not react to the sudden change.
“I have already begun the search for your parents, and unfortunately, I haven’t found much. What I did find…disturbs me.” Lurien looked down at the child holding his hand. “Child, there are many people in this world that care more about passing pleasure, reputation, and wealth than people or eternity. Those people go through any lengths to achieve pleasure and power, even casting aside their own family so they do not have to swallow their own pride. Whatever your parents have taught you, please know that there are costs too great. For a child to die just so one can live in comfort with pride, that is the greatest poverty and pain that the world has ever seen. And you should not be subjected to that.”
They exited out the strange box and walked down the halls of the Watcher’s Spire. Guards and servants would salute the Watcher, while many didn’t hide their coos at the child. Soon, the two reached another strange box and went inside. As it ascended, Lurien spoke again. “Those evil people would cast you aside for whatever reason they thought up, never once asking what you thought about living or dying. And yes, child, you do have a mind to think. You are not an animal relying on instinct and affection alone for survival, but a person with a great gift of rationality…”
The strange box stopped short, causing them to walk down a hallway to another ascending box. “I apologize, you would not know what rationality is.” Lurien said as they started climbing higher again, “You are given the great gift to know and understand. But what is it worth to know something is good, and be unable to do good? Yes, you have Will also. The great gift to choose and act for the good.”
This strange box took the longest ride of all to reach a stop. During the ride, the child could look out the window planes to see the city below. If the child could gasp, the child would at the great height that they both had attained. No vessel had ever been higher.
Underneath his mask, Lurien smiled at the child reaching out to touch the window panes despite the constant movement of the elevator. No other child he had seen brought up this high had been so brave when looking down at his City below. Their fears had driven out the children’s wonder and awe of the City, but not so with this little one.
At last, the strange box stopped, allowing Lurien and the child to get off. The Watcher brought the child into a room filled with hearty voices. Fifteen souls were already in the room, fifteen knights who served the Watcher and the City. Their large size, great strength, and blue armor made them stand out in crowds, allowing them ease to get to the threat and eliminate it.
Down a possible future, all fifteen knights here would stand at attention, ready to defend their leader and friend who would sleep eternally to seal away a foe no weapon can ordinarily reach. Here, so high in the Spire, all fifteen would stand dead, for not even death could keep these loyal knights from their posts. Here, the fifteen would stand at a testimony to the greatness of the City of Tears before it wept…and the foolishness of its king to keep it frozen forever.
In that possible future, the child left with the tossed aside nail of a knight, would climb the Spire to reach the Seal slumbering there; only to meet these Watcher Knights. Bloated, infected flies would break from the chandeliers to awaken the knights from their own death-sleep to defend the Seal. Six would answer the call from Hades. Six would awake, roar, and charge. Six, one after the other, not giving the child-self-made-knight a break. The child-knight would have to fight two at once, from above and below, from both left and right. So many tries would occur. So much frustration pent up in the small bug. So much that the child-knight would sneak over and drop a chandelier upon one of the knights in his frozen slumber, destroying the Infection within the light. Even then, that did little to stop the five remaining from wiping the floor with the child-knight. But determined this child is, and the child-knight would defeat all five and climb to the top. At the highest peak of the Spire, the knight would break kill the Seal, another step completed to fighting and finishing the Blinding Light.
But that possible tomorrow is not today; with luck, it would never be today. No, today is a day where all could live and be happy.
The hour that the Watcher and Child came off the elevator was an interesting one, for the Watcher Knights had time to themselves to relax and enjoy each other’s company before duty, training, or dinner called them away. As such, the Watcher and child stumbled upon the Watcher Knights at play. There was a group in the last throngs of an arm-wrestling match, another group playing with dice, others talking back and forth of “did you ever?”, and lastly, a group at storytelling. This group was the closest to the door and thus whom Lurien and the child got a chance to listen to.
“For forty days and nights it rained, covering the whole earth. Everything on the earth, bug, beast, and bird drowned in the whirls of the rising waters. Everything except those saved in the ark, those who trusted what was told to them despite facing all the ridicule.” An older Watcher Knight recalled to the listeners before him.
With a deep breath, the Knight was about to continue his tale when he noticed that someone had entered the room. “Watcher! Sir!” The Knight saluted, causing the knights at his side to stand at attention. The older knight bellowed out across the room. “The Master has ennntered! And with him a guest!!!”
At once, the hearty voices cut themselves off, their owners marching to greet the Watcher of the City and Keeper of the Spire.
Lurien slightly bowed in respect for the older knight. “Greetings to you, Hakim. I see that all of you are in good health.”
A knight at Hakim’s right laughed. “As if we are a bunch that falls right into disaster five minutes after you leave!”
Lurien chuckled. “Well Declan, there was that one time…” He trailed off, causing some of the knights to laugh. Declan himself was the loudest, despite another knight elbowing him in the side.
Lurien looked down at the child, still holding his hand. “Little One, these are my Watcher Knights, some of the best warriors in all of the kingdom. Due to their hard labor and great skill, the City of Ilona remains safe for all to walk its streets.”
“Watcher sir?” A knight stepped forward, a rich scarf wrapped around his neck. “Is this the child you have been watching over for the last few days?”
“Yes Wafai. This is the child.” Lurien nodded.
The now identified Wafai immediately turned around to his fellow knights. “Ha! You owe me 50 Geo! Come on, cough it up!”
Hakim whispered to Lurien. “You might have caused a betting pool over the last few days sir.”
“For what?”
“How long it would take you to have enough and bring the child inside the Spire. Most betted it would be a week exactly, a few that we would find the parents beforehand, while Wafai and Benji betted you wouldn’t last a week.”
While Lurien stared in confusion at the rumbustiousness of his knights, the child gazed at them all in wonder. The blue-armored Watcher Knights were honored as heroes that all the children looked up to in the City of Ilona. It was no different for this little one, for deep within this child knew that its heart was called to knighthood. If the child wasn’t so tired, the child would notice all the little details that the other children pointed out about the Watcher Knights. How Wafai wore a rich scarf in honor of his noble house; that Sir Caleb always carried one of his mother’s kerchiefs to remind him to work hard; that brothers Orde and Gladios had matching crests to show their family’s house; how Sir Liam’s helmet had little wings on the side; and how poor Sir Beor the Dented now had to wear dented armor as the blacksmiths got too tired of fixing it after every mission.
Too soon, Lurien took the child to the next elevator. As the box rose, Lurien spoke. “Upon knighting, every knight swears an oath to defend the weak and aid the needy. To answer every cry for help.”
The child looked down at the floor, for no one would come to help the child. After all, the child had no voice to cry out or even whimper.
Suddenly, the child felt a rub upon the back. “Little One. One does not need a voice for misery to cry out and tell its suffering. And your misery, child, is deafening.”
The box stopped, forcing Lurien and the child to walk across another hallway to reach the final elevator. It was short, allowing them to quickly start climbing again.
“You were not born to suffer Child. You were created and born for life and communion, not the nothingness that comes with sin and guilt.”
Neither of them, Watcher or Child, knew what the Pale King had done, what he would do, to seal away the Blinding Light. But like with all sins, they both felt the effects. The child being neglected and abandoned; the Watcher noticing his dear friend drifting further away.
The child glanced out to the window, finally realizing how high they had climbed. They were at the highest point in the whole city! Even the roofs of the other buildings and spires were below the two now. The child looked up and saw light. Very soon, they were going to reach the very top of the whole world! Did it mean? Could it be? That the child was finally going to find Home?
The box stopped and no other box would take them higher. “You have done well Little One.” Lurien said, dropping his hand to rub the child’s back. “You made it.”
As the Watcher walked out, the child remained in the box. The child truly did it; the child had reached the top. The child not only conquered the challenge but did it well.
Lurien, suddenly noticing that his hand was empty, turned back around. He called to the child, but the child didn’t hear him. All the emotions, all the stress, all the weariness that the child had ever felt in its six days of life rose up like a bubbling sea. As the child fell to the floor, the last thing the child saw was Lurien running back only for the sea of sleep to swallow the child whole.