She smiles at him, as if she knows everything in his mind.
They both stand before the entrance, watching the golden doors intently as it swings in a turtle's pace, an audible clicking reverberating through the mountaintop.
"Let's step in." She leads a confused Feng Huan into the spacious temple. As soon as the two step inside, the heavy doors close behind them. The air is dense with energy, and their breaths are visible in front of them.
Feng Huan follows her closely; he feels like a child again, following his mother everywhere. She doesn't seem to notice as she strides ahead, but her pace slows down for him to catch up. He looks over at her, but finds no recognition in her eyes. His heart sinks slightly.
The sound of footsteps grows louder as they walk further and farther along. Feng Huan's hand instinctively shoots forward, clutching the fabric of her skirt, and he squeezes it tightly between his fingers, causing her steps to quicken.
They walk through the golden gilded hall of the temple, and it feels as if it is larger than it looks from the outside, a force is acting upon the expansion of this temple. It seems to be expanding outwards.
There are statues lining every wall, and the floor beneath them has been polished to such a high shine that Feng Huan can see his reflection clearly. At last, they come to a stop in front of an altar decorated with gold.
A figure dressed in pure white sits on it, their arms crossed in front of them. They are holding what looks like a mirror, looking directly at them, as if judging their intentions.
Feng Huan swallows hard, and he takes another step toward the altar.
He stops, when a voice calls out, "Stay where you are Domplumo." Feng Huan looks at his companion who has spoken. He takes another look at the humanoid figure in white sitting on the golden altar.
Her hair is as pink as the cherry blossom, and her face is serene. Her thick eyelashes decorate her creaseless face. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is in a tight smile. But her expression tells him everything he needs to know. It is not happy or pleasant in any way; it's just… there. A permanent grin plastered on her face.
"You do realise, I am in charge here?" The figure says without opening her eyes.
His heart pounds against his chest, and he nods his head slowly. "Yes, Ma'am."
The figure finally opens her eyes.
They are a deep purple colour that glimmers with some kind of light.The woman's eyes move around, examining her surroundings. Her expression never changes.
"What do you want? You've already entered my temple." She speaks in a calm tone, and it is almost intimidating. Feng Huan looks at his companion. He sees nothing but confusion and shock written all over her face.
He shakes his head, trying to shake away the feeling.
"Please, Ma'am, we're here to ask for help!" He says firmly. The figure looks back at the mirror that she dropped on the ground beside her.
There are strange markings all along its surface, glowing faintly and making it shimmer. The mirror is shining brilliantly. The light is clearly visible, but not blinding. Feng Huan and his companion stand still.
"What are you to ask of me?" the figure asks in an ethereal tone.
"Give us guidance, mother!" Feng Huan's companion falls to her knees. Her violet eyes glistened with a sheen of tears. Her sickly pale face turning up to the bright figure on the altar. The figure simply scoffs.
"I don't remember having a daughter such as you."
The temple's lights suddenly go off. And a strong wind blows them both to the exit. The area shrinks and they are pushed out. The gates close abruptly, and its colour now looks faded. They are back at the entrance.
They are once again back on the mountain path from the veranda.
"Is that your mom?"
"I'm fine." his companion slumps her shoulder. She starts walking down the mountain path back to the overlooking verandah. Back on the wood and marble verandah, they both find a bench and sit down in silence.
The wind blows her hair to her face as they look out to the valley below.
"I turned my father into a duck." she says after a short silence. Her face is back to the emotionless slate from last night. 'It's hard to tell what she's feeling… It might be better if she just told me again.'
"How do you feel?" he asks.
His companion just clutches her stomach. He chuckles under his breath, the serene air on the mountaintop caressing their faces as it blows south.
"No, tell me how you actually feel." he repeats himself.
"I'm really sad."
"Now try telling me, without saying it." He puts a hand on her shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, his companion begins talking again.
"I… I feel empty."
The words come spilling out of her mouth. They sound like a whisper. She stares straight ahead. Tears gather in her eyes.
Feng Huan reaches for her hand and gives it a soft squeeze. "That's a step,"
He looks straight at her, the morning breeze slowly stilling, preparing for the transition to the afternoon, as the sun inches to the centre of the sky. There is a pause between them.
And Feng Huan hears it too.
In the distance, there is a noise. A small chime ringing through the air.
He watches as his friend stands up on shaky legs. She wipes her face with the sleeve of her robes, as if to erase the tear stains.
Feng Huan has long figured it out. If the Duck is the Demon King, who else but his immediate family would live in his castle? As if reading his thoughts, she says in a whisper, "We can't stay here."
He watches as she turns to him with red rimmed eyes. He holds her gaze.
"Where should we go, then?"
The woman lets out a huff and walks toward him, leaning down and holding his hand, tracing his knuckles with her soft thumb. "Don't go Domplumo. Don't leave me." she says, not looking at his eyes.
Feng Huan smiles at her in response. He knows. He knows about how she misses her dad so much and the longing that consumes her. He can't blame her for wanting to lay down and rest. To forget all of this and just rely on others.
…
Tucking her to bed, he left the sleepy princess alone in his… their room. He exits the room alongside Rong and the Demon King and they head to the library, wherever that is. He walks the long halls until he reaches the winding stairs.
Exiting into the town, Feng Huan is bombarded with the sight of a long line of men and women in chains, wearing ragged clothes and are dirty and exhausted; a group of armoured men standing in front of them, arguing loudly.
'This must be their prisoners.'
He pushes through the crowd of people who've gathered; pushing past them and making his way up to the top, and finds a large open space, surrounded by tall pillars supporting the dome.
On each side are rows upon rows of wooden benches lined against the pillar and the ceiling. In the middle of it all is a podium, and a lectern on the left hand side. The men and women are led to a tent pavilion posterior to the podium, away from sight.
Feng Huan follows the group inside, and he notices two young ladies, who are standing guard outside the tent, and he makes his way towards them. They are dressed in identical attire; a pair of black dress uniforms that have been worn since he first saw this troop yesterday.
It is only after a while does he realise that it must be one of those who was supposed to take care of him and his companion while they're here, he hadn't realised they were also his guards and escorts.
He feels Rong tugging his sleeves. He looks back to her as she puts her palms together and opens it. She does that over and over again until Feng Huan realises that he forgot about visiting the library.
Feng Huan puts a hand on her shoulder, causing the little maid to look down to the ground.
"We need to do something about this injustice." Feng Huan looks over her shoulder. "We must find like minded individuals."
Rong has no idea what he's talking about, so she shakes her head. Fearing that she will fall asleep, Feng Huan grabs her hand and pulls her behind him.
He approaches the two female soldiers stationed at the entrance of the tent. One of them notices him approaching. She gives him an apologetic smile before returning to her post. The second one doesn't bother to acknowledge him.
Feng Huan clears his throat and waves at them. The soldier facing the podium turns around slowly and raises an eyebrow at Feng Huan. She wears a thin veil over her mouth.
"Do you need anything?"
"We wanted to know why the citizens are suffering."
Her expression changes, turning into a more curious one.
"Citizens?" she crosses her arms, her eyebrow raised. "Those people that were brought in earlier by a troop. The leader seems angry and aggressive." Feng Huan continues to say, "And you're not the only ones who will suffer."
The soldier looks at the crowd again, shaking her head slowly.
"I see that you are mistaken Regent of the Demon King. Citizens? They are not citizens. Men from the capital will soon visit this little Republic. What will we sell them if not slaves?"
The woman unsheathes her scimitar, its curved blade gleans in the morning sun. Its edges are still stained by blood. She points it at him. "We breed them so they multiply, then we sell them off to the merchants passing by to the Capital. That is what feeds you, Regent."
She smirks maliciously. "As far as I am concerned, these poor unfortunate souls are no better than the animals. And if not for our king, perhaps we demon worshippers would have already been wiped off the map. This country may be small, but we are independent."
She sheaths the blade back to her buckle and looks behind him to the sleeping duck on Rong's bosom.
"Have a good day, Regent." She looks at him in disgust as she turns around and walks away. Her rigid back facing him.
Once the soldier disappears from his sight, he takes another step forward and peers through the opening. The other three prisoners are now lying flat on the floor. Their hands tied to the pillar.
Feng Huan sighs. He grabs Rong and exits the back area to the front of the podium. A crowd has gathered in the square, well around 40 people. Only less than half of them look like they're from here.
Most are men, dressed in tattered cloth. Many of them walk with slumped shoulders as they shuffle past, looking downcast. The ones who seem to be the leaders, stand tall and proudly. Some have deep voices. They speak quietly to each other in low voices and keep glancing at him.
They look well armed, with knives and long swords. There in a corner of the square near the wooden shacks that surround it are two individuals in front of a noodle stall. The man in black is eating while his companion is staring at her feet, lost in thought.
Feng Huan approaches the table, the people walking past stepping aside.
"Do you know anything about the slave trade in these parts?"
The two of them look at each other. The woman in the red figure hugging dress speaks up first.
"We are on our way to the capital." she says, not looking at his eyes as she produces an airy whistle.
"So if it isn't too much trouble, please let us continue. We don't want to be late."
The man in black glances at her. "Why would you get yourself involved with such things?" His voice is deep and resonant, as he asks the question.
'They talk as if I'm gone.' Feng Huan's face is ashen as he walks to the library.
Entering the library north east of McCready he is amazed at the contrast between it and the rest of the town. It is well furnished with mahogany and oak, with shelves filled to the brim with various books.
The spaces in between the bookshelves are occupied by a bright torch nestled on a metal nest, acting as a shield containing the fire. Feng Huan points at a table and tells Rong to settle down.
Looking around he sees a door to the far left corner of the spacious room of books he is currently in. He walks towards it, the melody his foot makes as it takes a step on the shiny floor reverberating around the room.
The door has a bronze plaque on its face, the edges glinting with a metallic shine, catching anyone's attention to those who look. Feng Huan knows this might be the room where the woman from the meeting is residing in.
He slowly opens the door, the inky smell filling up his sinuses. The room is dimly lit, to the point where he can barely see anything. However, he is able to make out a form laying on the bed across from him.
At first glance, she appears to be asleep, but when he walks closer, he notes her breathing. The sound she makes isn't exactly gentle or quiet. Each breath sounds heavy, as if she's in a nightmare.
He walks at a large pace, trying his best not to make a sound. He is sure to be gentle as he reaches to her face at a gradual pace. Slowly he reaches his fingers towards her nose. He stops short, not wanting to wake her.
The moment his fingertips touch her face, she gasps awake. The light from the flame throws her contours into sharp relief, her eyes wide in surprise, the pupils dilated as if she had just woken up from a hazy sleep.
"You've come, Domplumo." she yawns as she looks at the clock on the wall as it strikes thirteen.
He doesn't answer. Instead he stares into her eyes, studying their color. She is probable to have green eyes, but her pupils are too narrow, so dark that he cannot really tell any colour of them.
She stares at him with a hint of a smile. Her eyes move away from him briefly, towards the window at the end of the room.
"Am I that pretty?" she blushes.
"Ah… yes." Feng Huan stutters. He doesn't expect the words to come out of his mouth, but the words he hears coming from her lips surprises him even more.
Her eyebrows rise slightly at the response, then she sniggers.
"You have quite a sense of humour." She looks at him. She sits up and adjusts her clothes.
"I'm pretty old." she says as she stands up and sits on her desk, her hair falling to her waist, as long as his arm. Her chestnut brown curls are parted on the top, exposing her bare neck. The silk dress is loosely hanging on her body.
She brushes the loose strands of her hair that are covering her chest with her right hand. As she does so, she lifts her head to meet his gaze.
"How many years do you think I have been around?"
"I would guess that you're in your thirties." Feng Huan replies, avoiding eye contact. She laughs.
"A lot older than I look." she sighs. "If only you could see me in my youth, my husband…" she trails off momentarily.
"I remember having a daughter." she says, taking a sip of her tea. Her fingers move around caressing the pages on the book lain on her table. The pages are so thin that Feng Huan can see light pass through it and still outline what's behind it.
"There are a lot of things we thought we remembered but are now forgotten. I called you here so we can have a… Refresher of some sorts." She shows a soft smile, her fingers brushing against the pages. "It's almost time."
"What do you mean?"
"My memories are fragmented." she admits. "It was the curse of immortality, wasn't it?"
"This is the goal of the Cult. The pursuit of immortality." she says.
"This valley is part of a dukedom to the east. We pay tribute to their Duchess. Every year they visit. That is in a few days." She closes the book and puts it away, revealing a map showing the wider world.
"As you know, we only have two exports. Stone, and Slaves." She points to a place at the center of the country. It is represented by a star in the map's legend, a good one thousand kilometers from here.
"The Duchess pays well." She flashes a sly smile.
"Slave labor costs money." Feng Huan reminds her.
"Yes, and yet they pay well. It's a pity. If there were more in our land… Well, it wouldn't be such a bad idea to bring the slaves back." she leans forward to whisper in his ear.
Feng Huan looks away, unable to reply. The woman in black moves close to him again, her lips brushing against the side of his ear.
"What will happen to you when they find out you got the key to the temple and planned to free all these people?"
He looks around the room.
"They'll take you here to the Capital to torture you." She says, her finger not moving an inch from its position on the map.
"You have a lot to learn Feng Huan."