Hero’s Downfall Report

47 – Of Men, Lions, Bulls, and Eagles (4)

As the evening descended with the earth spider, the three of them headed towards the market square.

People gradually mixed in between as they returned home, leaving a suitable distance between each other. Farmers finishing their day’s work, merchants hoping to sell more tomorrow than today.

Even the children who roamed the alleyways went home. Some were dragged away, their ears being pulled, but most of them stumbled through their words, saying, “Today was like this, and someone did that.” They stumbled and stumbled until they had said everything, like morning sparrows.

For those who had diligently lived through an ordinary day, evening was a time to cool off and a blessed time to fill their empty bodies and minds with rest.

But the old men of Masada were the opposite. Like plants growing in the night, bathing in the sunlight during the day, they spent the whole day accumulating heat and releasing it into the alleyways at night.

Greetings. Shouting. Arguments and curses. There was no one to stop the old men, and the old men didn’t care about anyone’s opinion. Instead, the people in the alleyways responded by roughly closing their doors and windows.

As if the elders were a lump of dirty oil or foam floating on a simmering pot, they were lightly pushed aside, out of interest.

The market square had now become exclusively the place of the elders. Their own square. Their own stage. Still, the old men were filled with anticipation for the soon-to-arrive special guests… They arrived. A young man and woman wearing brown robes.

The square was quite spacious and open. There were various things like stalls and crowded trees, rocks instead of chairs, but it was difficult for all three of them to hide near the gathering.

So Cain leaned against a large tree on the side street of the square, and Lily leaned against the wall of a building near the entrance of the market. It was as if they were monitoring all the passageways.

Maria was in charge of approaching the people gathered in the square. Cain saw Maria find a suitable place to sit among the elders without attracting attention.

Maria slightly bent her waist like a woman with a hunched back. When she coughed, the elders moved away from her and sat next to her. From what Cain could see, there were at least 60 to 70 elders.

As the moon revealed its form, people lit candles one by one, and Cain recognized the face of Paolo, who had delivered sharp sermons to them.

The plan was simple.

Maria would investigate whether there was any evidence of heresy during the sermon, and if there was conclusive evidence, they would arrest the two individuals after the people dispersed. If there was no evidence but suspicious circumstances, they would write a letter to headquarters.

Fortunately, the meeting was not expected to last more than an hour. The time for extinguishing fires for fire prevention was approaching, and if more time passed, it would become a restricted zone. Since the elders already walked slowly, they couldn’t prolong the meeting if they wanted to safely return home.

As the night breeze blew gently, uproarious laughter erupted among the elders. Despite being early summer in the southern region, the night was strangely nostalgic, extremely dry, and the wind seemed to blow because of that. Cain sighed and blew warm air into his hands.

The darkness grew deeper. It would be suspicious to stay in one place for too long. Cain walked towards the gathering of the increasingly excited elders. As if they were interested in loud noises and gathered together.

The voices of the young man and woman’s sermon became clearer.

“A shadow cannot stand alone. It always needs someone to be with.”

But shadows are everywhere. Whether it’s on the highest mountaintop or in the deepest cave. If someone stands there, the shadow is there too.

Shadows persistently follow people more tenaciously than conscience, more relentless than the enemy’s sword, and stickier than family love. However, the shadow itself is nothing. Without someone casting it, the shadow holds no meaning.

“It’s like you’ve created an empire.”

“Yes, cheers erupted here and there. Grandpa Vaulo even clapped his hands. A young man continued the speech.

“Shadows don’t create people. People create shadows. Shadows simply follow and imitate, never becoming masters. Shadows are servitude, shadows are slavery, shadows are confinement.

From Noble mtl dot com

You shed blood for the empire. You shed your own blood, offered your family’s blood, and prevented a single drop less of blood from your neighbors and the blood of your love. Tales of monsters wearing human masks are passed down through generations, like those seeds in the desert. You purified this cursed land with the blood of those beasts.

You are the light, you are the hope, you are the heroes.

But, how does the empire treat you? How do your neighbors treat you? No one looks at you. Everyone curses and mocks you. The empire, the Holy See, talks about peace!”

“Nonsense!”

Baulo shouted. People in brown robes glared.

“But what is peace? Is it peace to not speak of discomfort when something is uncomfortable? Is it peace to suppress the desire to kill an enemy? Is it peace to make everything I’ve done meaningless? Not arguing. Is true peace just putting everything in a box, sitting on top of it, and not quarreling?

Do you love this kind of peace? Can you accept this kind of peace?”

“No! Unacceptable!” The elders shouted in unison.

“Being ignored! Being hated! Being rejected! Is living like this in a place where no one recognizes you true peace? Did you live and fight for this kind of peace? No! You deserve better treatment than this!”

“Yes, that’s right! Obvious words!”

“So, heroes! Warriors! Let’s sing together. Let’s sing the song of the front line together. Let’s sing the hymn we sang to bind the lives and souls of those falling in battle to the afterlife! Let’s sing the Crusader’s song!”

A dissonant and somber song burst out randomly. People shouted without melody or rhythm. Imagining someone growing cold inside, sobbing.

In their youth, the cavalryman who waved a flag, receiving cheers and petals raining down, shook hands again, as if the moon were becoming a maiden that day.

The spear-wielding soldiers who faced the cavalry and pounded their shields against the ground, recreating the rhythm as they shook their hands, just like in those days.

“It’s too noisy!”

Someone who couldn’t bear it any longer shouted out of the window.

“I understand everything, but it’s too noisy!”

“That is the peace you all have created!”

The woman in the brown robe sharply exclaimed. The elderly who had been singing rose together. The anthem of that era, as if tightly binding their bodies, was raised as if flashing.

The elderly sang in unison, left foot and right foot, the flag-bearers moved forward. Officers to the side. Spear-wielding soldiers aligned in rows, shield-bearers closer together. As if the open window could be the fortress of the dissenter, the aging veterans surrounded the house.

Amidst the bewildered screams, a wind warning not to say such things extinguished the candles, but soon the wick ignited again.

“Someday! Someday, the day of realization will come!” a young man shouted.

“Someday, wings will rise from the shadows. The wings will overturn the world, awakening you to whose bodies you’ve been sleeping on until now.

When that day comes, at that time, even if you weep and scream, it will be too late! Repent! Repent! To those who do not repent, there will be only the hellfire!”

An uneasy energy spread in the square. The house that opened the window and shouted quickly closed it. The sound of dragging furniture and blocking the door was heard. However, the excited elderly, those turned back into soldiers, could not suppress their fervor, anger, and rage.

As if it happened by chance, as if it were a mistake, the elderly brought candles to the windows and doors. The sturdy wooden door, which had loved the respectable couple and their children, staunchly resisted to protect its owner, but it couldn’t prevent the acrid smell rising from the edges.

The guards saw that scene. Sounding the bell of alert, young soldiers rushed quickly.

“Disperse, disperse! You must not do this! Stop, stop!”

“You insolent brat! A disrespectful one who doesn’t even recognize his parents! Come here, you scoundrel! Do you even think about the fact that your mother generously raised and fed other people’s children with her tender back and blistered palm?”

But the guards were relentless.

“You must not do this! Call for more support! Hey there! What are you doing!”

The guards, with an intimidating attitude, twirled their spears. Threateningly tapping their helmets and slowly, but clearly, thrusting the spears through the gap in the elderly’s ranks. No matter how seasoned the veterans were, in an unarmed state, facing their neighbors’ children coming at them like this…

“How long!”

The eyes of the audience turned to the woman in the brown robe.

“How much longer will you endure? How long will you keep suppressing it as you have been all this time? Will you continue to remain silent for the sake of false peace, just like you always have, until this very moment?”

“No!”

Inspired by his words, Paolo rushed forward. He grabbed a wooden staff and shook it vigorously. The startled guards tried to remove his grip, but they couldn’t push back the other elderly folks who were joining in. These were not just guards; they were neighbors from the village, people older than their own parents.

“Oil! Bring the oil!”

Someone shouted. An elderly man who used to sell goods at the market picked up a wooden board. There were pottery jars and other items stored there for use on dark days. The jar seemed to be about half full of oil. Without hesitation, the old man sprinkled it on the door.

“As you sow, so shall you reap!”

“As you sow, so shall you reap! As you sow, so shall you reap!”

More guards gathered, but the elderly folks were determined. Inside the house, the cries of children could be heard. The elderly people sprinkled lamp oil on the closed doors and wooden window frames. Those holding candles took steps closer.

Thunk.

A finger snapped, and light burst forth among them. In the midst of the night, the moon itself seemed to shrink back in discomfort from the sudden, blinding light.

It was a light so intense that words couldn’t describe it. Guards, elderly people, everyone screamed and covered their eyes, crouching on the ground. The candles flickering before the brightness gasped for air.

In the midst of the blaze, Inquisitor Maria slowly pulled down her hood. Her flowing red hair resembled the feathers of an angry lion.

“If you are truly just and righteous.”

Maria shook her sleeves, and her outstretched finger pointed to a man and a woman in brown robes.

“Come forth, even before the light, and testify.”