The sound of a book opening echoed throughout the area. Eden stops dead in his tracks, but instantly bolts to turn around and face the shopkeeper.
“Wait! Would you happen to be-” Eden begins to say but cuts himself off. The shop is gone, and all that stands there is a field of long grass. Any evidence that there was ever something there, let alone a whole building, is nowhere to be found. It was like the whole experience was a mirage or dream of sorts.
Could that have been a dream or something? But it felt so real, too real to ever be a mere dream. Plus, I still have this. Eden concludes as he looks at the old book he got. The mere existence of the book proves that the events were not made up in Eden’s head. Eden shudders a little at the confirmation as he walks to the vine orb.
What that thing said is far too similar to what that shop said on the first floor. Is he Steve Morality? No one else talks about shopping with morality from my knowledge. But could the creature have done that to mess with me? It had an uncanny amount of information about me, and since it is an outside merchant it is highly likely that it went to Elderwood, so it is possible it heard of me from someone. I did mention morality back then, and though that place surely is not all that special, the merchant seemed almost surprised by my talking of him. Wait, what if that merchant was a spy of sorts? He could have relations to Cosmos for all I know, and Cosmos is for some reason keeping tabs on me. Eden ponders on, but given the current information he cannot confidently conclude anything. Before any more ideas pop into Eden’s head, he reaches the vine orb. He enters it through the usual method and goes to man the helm. He selects the spot where Eden started at, which now that he is not located there he can see the name of the place: “slave district”, and the vine orb brings him there. A spark of anger fills Eden, but he calms himself down. The anger he feels however does not truly leave him.
So they really did see us as slaves. In hindsight this realization should not have taken this long, but I suppose it is better late than never. Eden concludes while he sits in silence. While waiting, Eden collects his thoughts and starts to try to connect the dots, however mismatched they may be.
So the shopkeeper is certainly suspicious, no doubt, though I cannot claim that he has done anything wrong. It is even less likely that he has anything to do with the war that I think is going to happen. He seemed more interested in that book and talking like some kind of god then being in combat. Wait a minute, now that I think about it, everything of note that was stocked in his store has something to do with books, or more accurately writing techniques. The shop had “tension”, there was the gun labelled “chekhov's”, the coat with "foreshadow" and the copper slab “irony”. All of these are related to writing. But what does that tell me: nothing! Waste of a thought Eden! No matter, the shopkeep cannot be my focus right now, especially with how little I know of him. I need more on Cosmos and the wood spirit kingdom, but there is only one man I can ask; Plantus, but who knows if anyone is keeping tabs on him. I cannot ask him outright, but rather dance around the information I want just in case someone is listening in. I wish I could trust you more, Plantus. I am sorry for using you. Eden rambles on in his mind, but puts his body in a prayer stance to apologize to Plantus, though this apology will never reach him.
Eden looks around him, in the mostly empty room, and touches the spot where he was cut. He stares into his memories, and refocuses his mind. He revisits the memories of what has happened to him while in this place, damned the whole way through. He lingers on the worst parts of his time in the kingdom, but this only hardens his will rather than causing it to fall.
But there is something that is more important than apologizing right now. Well, I guess this falls under the category of an apology, just not a worded one. I hope this is what you would have wanted, Tanker. Eden prays as he waits for the vine orb to reach the fields. After a few minutes the vine orb lands in the field. Eden walks outside of the vine orb, and upon checking the map the time is 2000 or 8:00 pm. It would seem as though Eden spent far more time in that creepy shop than he ever realised. But Eden places little thought on the matter, rather he rushes out of the vine orb to find Plantus, or really anyone if he is not around. Luckily for Eden, Plantus is only a couple dozen steps away from where he landed.
“Oh hey, Plantus!” Eden yells out as he runs over to him. Plantus turns himself to face Eden before responding.
“Oh, Eden. It seems you are back, a little earlier than I originally expected. Though I guess that is a good thing, as you need to pack the things you want in your inventory for early tomorrow. Your house, along with the others, in the residential district has been set up.” Plantus informs Eden.
“The house? Oh I forgot about that. But what do you mean I am back earlier than expected? Everything besides a shop in the wanderer’s district was closed.” Eden tells Plantus, who looks very surprised at this development.
“No, are you sure of that? The shops do not close till 210- sorry, 9:00 pm at the earliest unless some kind of event is going on. Were you sure they were not just being rude to you? I know most wood spirits do not have the best of opinions on humans.” Plantus questions Eden.
“No, there were hardly any wood spirits in the shopping district past 6:00 pm, and when I went to the wanderer’s district only one of the shops was open. Unless my eyes have deceived me, there was basically no one around past 6.” Eden answers Plantus, who is snatching his chin in confusion.
Clearly what happened at the shopping district was not normal, or at least the closing times were not. But what could have caused that? Did the shop owners not want to deal with me that badly? No, humans cannot possibly be hated that much, right? Eden wonders.
No one was in the shopping district? That almost never happens unless it is a holiday or we are at war. The next holiday is in a few months, so unless Cosmos is doing a draft or some sort of summons in response to “A Legacy’s Myth”, then something is wrong. Plantus realises. The two stand in silence for a few minutes. In Eden’s case he is lost in thought, but for Plantus he does not want to interrupt Eden’s thoughts, but soon he loses his patience and tries to reinvigorate the conversation.
“Ahem! *Cough, cough*! Anyway, I have to go right now, so I will see you tomorrow at your old work time.” Plantus informs Eden, who has just broken out of thought and fully registered that Plantus is still here.
“Oh yeah, that works. See you then!” Eden tells Plantus as he floats off. However, once Plantus leaves sight, Eden remembers something and smacks himself in the face.
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Wait, shit! I was going to ask him some questions. No, actually it is probably better I ask them when he is doing the house stuff, to sneak in important questions with more menial ones. Plus, I have something I need to discuss with Old Man anyway. Eden reasons to himself as he walks into the small house for perhaps the last time. But Eden feels no sadness from this fact, as he simply did not care much for the home itself, but rather what he obtained from it. He looks through the small halls of the house, as hollow as can be. The house was empty of any form of care or life before Eden entered. The hallway was cold and felt overly long for the first time ever. None of the doors were open, and the usual signs of a person being present were not there.
It would seem as though Old Man is not home right now. He is likely turning in his cotton for the day. I guess I will have to wait till he gets back. I need to talk to him about what I have learned today, both the information and the realization I have had. Eden concludes, as he walks into the cold kitchen. The signs of drinking still linger within the room, and there is a faint smell of liquor in the air. Eden pays it no mind however, and rather grabs a stool. He brings it out of the kitchen and into the hallway, right before both of their rooms. He grabs a book from his room, but rather than the normal forging book he has been reading, he grabs Truth in Hypocrisy. He flips through the pages of the book, skimming through its words until he sees something that could give him some sort of idea, or a plan on what to do next. He finds a section on what he wants rather shortly.
Hypocrisy is both a virtue and a sin for a leader. But one thing must be made clear to all, and that is Hypocrisy is a trait all shall have! No man nor beast is free from its shackles, so it is best to sharpen those chains into a weapon rather than hide them. I dare say one should be proud of their inconsistencies! For imperfection is what makes the man a man! None should be ashamed of their hypocrisy, but that does not mean you should not challenge others. A hypocrite fits best in the role of a revolutionary after all. Those who know the true value of hypocrisy are those who are not meant to hold power for long, but rather challenge the power of all who hold any!
Eden stares at these words for a while, reminiscing on memories soon to be forgotten. But until then, Eden looks into the abyss, and the abyss accepts him like a brother.
About 30 minutes later
The door to the home opens out, revealing Old Man. He looks a good bit tired and smells of sweat. His face is tinted red, and he is heavily breathing, though weirdly no sound was made from this action. He has a small pouch in his hands that jingles. It would seem Old Man got himself a little bit of gold, more than he ever has before in fact. He does not notice that Eden is there for a few seconds, and gets surprised once he sees Eden sitting in his way to his room. Of course, this surprise is not at all evident on his face.
“May I ask why you are blocking my path, Eden?” Old Man questions Eden. The hitherto motionless Eden throws the bag of gold that he got from Old Man to him. Old Man effortlessly catches it.
“Would you have some time to talk real quick?” Eden asks back to Old Man. Old Man sighs.
“Fine. Come on to the kitchen.” Old Man tells Eden as he walks into the kitchen. Eden follows after, bringing the stool with him along with putting away his book. Even with Old Man being tired, he is still far faster than Eden, so along with the time spent dragging the stool slowing him down, Old Man has already poured a glass of lemonade and sits down before Eden gets to the kitchen.
“So what did you want to talk about, Eden?” Old Man asks Eden. He takes a sip of his drink right after.
“As you are aware, I went to the shopping district. Given how I gave you your money back, I assume you can conclude that I did not buy anything.” Eden starts off with, receiving a nod in agreement from Old Man. “But this was not done because there was nothing I wanted to buy, but rather the shop owners did not let me. I only really got to talk to one of them, but luckily she had some good information. She confirmed the military importance of cotton.” Eden informs Old Man, who seems to not fully believe Eden, but after examining Eden’s confident look, goes along with it.
“So it really was true then. It would seem you hit the mark on your idea, but I am still left with a question: what now? What do you plan on doing with this information?” Old Man asks Eden.
What am I going to do with the information? I never put all that much thought into it, did I? No, there is something I need to do with this information. There is something I should do, for all those who have suffered due to my passiveness. Eden believes. He takes on an even more serious look and faces Old Man dead in the eyes.
“I am planning on causing the defeat of the wood spirit kingdom..” Eden declares. For the first time, or at least the first time for Eden, Old Man falls into true shock. The lemonade glass falls from his hand, and shatters on the floor, but no one pays it any mind.
The boy lost it. This is not something he would ever do. He is far too foolish-too innocent for him to ever make such a play. This is not a move Eden would make, but one I would. Old Man concludes. He regains his composure and stands up. He quickly walks over to Eden at a speed Eden could never catch while running. Eden feels a sharp pain on his cheek, that of one being slapped. No sound echoes out from the impact, but it is clear as day that Old Man smacked Eden.
“Eden, do not talk about things you lack the commitment to fulfill.” Old Man calmly orders. Eden faces Old Man, steadfast as a boulder, and talks.
“Old Man, I believe you have a flawed impression of me, either that or what I mean by my words. I am not saying to run the streets red with blood, I am not cut out for that kind of battle, nor do I have the strength to win that kind of battle. I want to hurt the wood spirits in the resource department, with as little casualties as possible, but I understand the value of killing one for a thousand. I am not a killer, or at least not now, but I have realised that the good wood spirits are far in the minority, and that it is best to take the risk of hurting them to hurt the majority. I may not want to see their life end before my eyes, in fact I want no one to see that if it is unnecessary, but that does not mean I will forever put up with oppression!” Eden yells out. Old Man stands there stunned, not truly knowing what he should do. But after a little while, he comes to a conclusion.
“May I ask why you want to go through with this? How much thought have you put into this?” Old Man softy asks Eden.
“I have not put nearly enough thought into this as I should have. I should have come to this conclusion, hell at least thought about this far sooner. But I realised something, the man who sits on the sidelines knowing they could do something is just as guilty as the one who committed the act. Tanker got killed, countless others as well. I almost got killed today by a wood spirit shop owner. They sent us here, calling it our punishment, but in reality it is just for cheap labour. And while I do not wish to kill anything, the hunter who goes after two hares catches neither, I may have to kill for the sake of us all. But, I do not think I, nor any of us, are ready to fight. If only I thought of this sooner, and agreed with you when we first met, Old Man.” Eden declares. Old Man looks down for a little bit, before putting his hand on Eden’s shoulder.
“I get where you are coming from, Eden. But I must ask you to hold off, at least until we talk to the others and until you make some more concrete plans.” Old Man tells Eden, who agrees with his eyes. Old Man takes his hand off of Eden, and walks past him.
“I am sorry.” Old Man says as he walks out of the kitchen. Old Man does not stop there, and he walks outside of the entire house. Eden stands in the kitchen in silence for a few minutes. He does not think. He does not move. He stands there like a statue. But after what feels like an eternity, Eden begins to go back to his room for perhaps the last time. When he enters his room, he begins to take all of the books that are readable, along with a few other things, such as the alarm clock. Eden lays on the cold bed, and falls asleep.
Old Man walks outside of the house, moving slowly along the stone wall that cages them. He feels the grass brush against his feet and ankle, and the soft dirt, almost mud, as he sinks into it. No sound is made from anything Old Man interacts with.
It is funny, so funny indeed. I have changed more than I ever realised. So as Eden it seems. If me and him from the first time we met saw how we were today, they would think they were looking at the other person. They say evil corrupts, but none seem to point out how justice does as well, regardless if it is misguided or naive. The boy should not follow the path I tread. He should have stuck to his lofty ideals completely, and not compromise them like he is doing now. Oh if I were still a monk, I would be praying to Buddha for Eden’s sake. Old Man believes. He looks at the stone wall, reaching the skies, covering them too.
“But I am not one to leave my fate to the man in the sky. I am one to believe in the man who I have every reason to trust. I shall make sure you keep your innocence, my boy, in the only way I know how.” Old Man whispers to himself. He suddenly strikes the stone wall with a blow faster than a bullet. His hand was flat much like one would do for a chop, but he only hit the wall with his middle 3 fingers. The stone wall does not crack, but rather a part he touched vanishes into rubble. The strike looked like one a power tool had done, as it was a perfect circle, 1 ft (30.5 cm) in diameter, and 3 ft (0.91 m) in depth. No sound was made from the blow, nor from the destruction of the stone. It was as silent as can be, as silent as an assassin.
