Chapter Nine: The End of Kindness

I reached my hand into the aquarium to catch the blue fish—“Shan”—it bit me viciously, severing my finger. My blood dripped into the water, and I saw the black fish open its mouth, drinking my blood.

I grabbed the blue fish, hacked off its head with a dagger. Even headless, it still trembled. Suddenly, a fish bone shot out of its body, stabbing into my eye. The pain made me scream, my vision blurred, but I still mixed its flesh and blood together and fed it to Dalia.

Dalia began to cough. I heard her heartbeat again.

The fish flesh had worked!

I gently patted her cheek, calling, “Dalia! Dalia!”

Her lips had turned black. In a faint voice, she asked, “Why… why save me?”

Outside, people were making a commotion. I didn’t know what they were celebrating.

Orchid spoke: “Longinus, Longinus, I know what kind of person you are. I watched you grow up. You have your ambitions and your means—I know, I’ve always known. I see everything. You aren’t a rigid or stubborn person. Come out of the room. Try to accept us, and you’ll see—your ambitions are already fulfilled. With us, you can become the Sun King.”

But you are not Orchid. And you are no Sun King.

Orchid continued: “We have always been criminals, for we live underground, shrouded in darkness, hiding from the great sun. Now, I have corrected our wrongs. Of all of us, you love sunlight the most. Don’t be so obstinate. Take the first step—join us. Then, the kinship, love, and power you desire will all be within your grasp.”

Aurelia spoke softly: “Longinus, my poor child, you are more self-abasing than anyone, and stronger than anyone as well. We can all see that you’ve always envied Mercy, because he always surpasses you. I remember clearly, once, you stole a toy that belonged to Mercy and hid it in your room. You soon grew tired of the toy, yet you kept it as a treasure. Because you saw it as a victory over Mercy, didn’t you? Your low and cunning nature is plain to see.”

They began to torment my mind—one praising me, another condemning me. The blue fish’s bone, like a centipede, rampaged within me, gnawing at every bone, while their words were daggers, plucking at every nerve. Under this double agony, my other eye, too, lost its sight.

I stood, groped forward a few steps, slipped, and fell into the aquarium.

Water roared in my ears. The tank was filled with the stench of dead fish. The water was colder than I’d imagined, yet my fear of the fish overwhelmed all discomfort.

The black fish was coming; it would devour me.

No—it was only a fish. If it dared touch me, I’d skin it alive.

My palm burned as I touched gritty sand and sharp stones. I realized I was no longer in the water, but on the ground. The air was sour and sweet, like the stench of rotting sweet mushrooms. I heard only the wind, and within the wind, faint voices brushed my ears.

I listened closely—they were voices, but not those of the “Sun Kings.” The speakers were very far away.

Blood streamed from my eyes, but it tasted not like blood, but like fish. The blue fish brought no more pain, though fear remained.

Though I could not open my eyes, I saw my surroundings as if the impressions drilled directly into my mind, projected onto my soul.

Fish shadows swam toward me. I tried to dodge, but they were like ghosts, passing through my body, leaving no physical pain.

But on my soul, they left brandings.

I saw one fish transform into a human figure with wings and a spear, shouting: “Let me charge ahead! Show no mercy! The enemy is many, but we are fearless and unyielding! Defend our honor!”

I saw another winged one kneel, weeping: “Ah, my poor brother, the symbiont of my soul! Someone, help him! They slaughtered him!”

I saw a crowd of winged beings, heads held high, shackled and wounded, walking along a road strewn with thorns and bloodstones. They said: “Though we are defeated, we do not fear punishment, for our light guides us, for we were once the most radiant beings in the world! The dawn walks with us!”

I saw the winged ones trapped in cages, crying out: “Where is he? He is not here among us! Did he betray us? Did he make a pact with them in secret? No! Impossible! He must be imprisoned elsewhere!”

The winged ones wept and argued, and then vanished—replaced by fish, black fish.

I regained consciousness, lifting my head from the sand. I saw piles of things that looked like human statues—but soon realized they were not statues, but bodies—corpses, dried out like firewood.

They were those winged ones; all of them had died.

I was on an underground cliff. Below, a vast city—or labyrinth—spread out. The earth had been split open, carved into endless corridors. Once-grand towers and buildings had collapsed into ruins. Tall black stone walls encircled the labyrinth. The wind, like the whispers of the dead, blew through broken walls, telling ancient, desperate tales.

Did the winged ones build all this?

I leaped from the cliff, but found myself swimming through the air like a fish. I drifted above the labyrinth and realized the winged ones wouldn’t need such a maze, for they were like swimming fish, able to fly straight to its depths.

I saw a towering obelisk, covered in inscriptions. I immediately understood them—the script was ancient Sumerian, from one of humanity’s earliest civilizations.

It described a ritual: people mutilated themselves, deprived themselves of their five senses, to seek the wisdom of the dead. They believed that through this, they would be reborn as guardian spirits after death. This giant underground city was left by the ancients—did they attempt to coexist with the dead here?

I wanted to stay, to avoid those Sun Kings. Or perhaps I was dead, and this was the afterlife?

Dalia was still above. I remembered—I had saved her! Perhaps the Sun Kings’ song still tempted her to open the door and merge with them.

I had to leave—quickly—and bring Dalia here.

Even if I was dying, I had to save her. I must save Dalia.

Guided by the obelisk, I reached the heart of the labyrinth. There, I saw a kneeling giant statue with a fish’s face, lifeless eyes covered in scales.

Suddenly, darkness spread around me, and a fear so deep it chilled my bones engulfed me. The blue fish’s bone burrowed ever deeper, tearing at my insides. I was in such agony I could have gone mad.

A deep, chthonic voice asked, “What… do you desire?”

I asked, “Who are you?”

It answered:

“I am the first light.
I am the origin of sin.
I am the evening star at dusk.
I am the lord of darkness.
You summoned me; I answered your call, thus you are here.
Now, tell me what you seek.”

I said, “Save… save Dalia. Take her somewhere safe. I ask nothing more…”

It was silent.

Phantasmal black fish appeared around me, more and more, denser and denser. The darkness grew blacker, the abyss deeper, the cold more biting.

I realized the statue had sealed a pact with me, and now it would leave this place. A storm of darkness descended from above the labyrinth, sweeping me into the air, tossing me helplessly.

...

I was back in the room, but Dalia was gone. The “Sun Kings”—my former friends and kin—had broken in. They were still singing, encircling the dark room, watching me.

Watching the aquarium.

The Sun Kings became many people. Orchid walked toward me and sighed. “I have never understood you. Where is Dalia?”

Was it all a nightmare? But even a nightmare would be better than this.

I shouted, “You swallowed Dalia!” The thought gnawed at my heart and tormented my soul—or perhaps it was the blue fish’s bone at work.

Orchid shook his head. “We didn’t. She isn’t here.”

Suddenly I stabbed my dagger at Orchid, but he caught my wrist, frowned, and flung me aside. I crashed into the aquarium, and as the glass shattered, water gushed across the floor. I stared, afraid I would find Dalia’s corpse inside, but she was not there.

Orchid said, “Where did you hide Dalia?”

He was mocking me. He had already absorbed Dalia, yet pretended innocence to torment me—giving me hope, only to make me more afraid.

Orchid said, “Let me be frank. The serpent blood in your veins is troublesome. Some among us do not wish you to join us—they think you’re disgusting.”

I looked at each of them—their flesh and blood shifting constantly between liquid and solid, like scraps of kitchen waste all mashed together.

Orchid said, “You are not worthy, like us, to become an immortal Sun King.” He picked up my dagger and stabbed at my head. A powerful will to live made me dodge, but Orchid’s sword bore his intent, which became an iron cage, trapping me.

The dagger came for my eye, but suddenly, the black fish bit Orchid’s hand. I saw his fingers severed, vanishing into the black fish’s maw.

Orchid screamed in agony. The Sun Kings looked around in terror. Mist rose from the aquarium’s water, filling the room. The black vapor shrouded us. In the darkness, it was as if we were under the sea, and the black fish swam through us like the savage creatures of ancient Amazonian tales.

The fish swam faster, began tearing into the “Sun Kings.” Their song ceased, replaced by desperate pleas and wretched screams. Retribution—retribution—these self-proclaimed radiant beings, only darkness could judge them.

I felt no pity, only exultation as the fish killed Orchid, Aurelia, Sarah—every countryman, every kin.

Perhaps I too would be devoured by the fish. But I did not care. Death was not frightening. I would rather die than become one of those “Sun Kings.”

Only death can oppose life; only darkness can oppose light.

Let me vanish in the darkness.

I remembered—I’d never told Dalia I loved her.

Perhaps I truly didn’t.

So be it.

——

End of this volume