Arknights story · First of A Thousand Autumns
TA-7 Severed Yearning
Twenty years flash past in the blink of an eye in the maze of memory. White forces Wang to go into the game alone, but developments inside the Tomb of Sui are beyond anyone's expectations.
2 scenes, 437 lines
1. Before Operation
156 linesTwenty years is a long time.
Yan has moved an entire city onto a nomadic platform. Other nomadic cities like it are popping up across the land.
The Sky Mirror Pavilion has been expanded several times in order to accommodate the books collected from far and wide, transforming it beyond recognition.
Twenty years is a short time.
Our family rarely saw one another.
Shuo and Ling remain on the border. Jun is planning to move to Danyan, after compiling the Laws of Yan. Shu is living in Dahuang. Ji and Yi travel far and wide, each for their own reasons, while Nian is as carefree as ever.
Rumor has it that Fāng has left Yanese territory. Dusk refuses to come out of her scroll. Meanwhile, business at Yu's restaurant is booming, as it has been for decades.
As for Wang...
He shut himself in an ancient temple and has remained there for twenty years to improve his 'weiqi skills'.
When will he be willing to see me again?
...
Jie? The Imperial Historical Cabinet wants an update on the review of Jiangqi's local chronicles—
Oops, you caught me slacking off.
It's alright. I've already taken a look at it and circled all the issues. Do you want to take another look?
Huh? Hm, when did it...?
You really should get some rest, it's getting to you. I've been watching you work longer hours and sleep less year after year...
All the local annals, the construction chronicles, veritable records of the previous True Lung, ancient history textbooks for the Academy... I feel overworked, and all I do is organize the books for you.
I've heard that the Ministry of Works's requests have been dropping, and Shu's workload at Dahuang is no longer as heavy.
But the burden on your shoulders doesn't ever seem to get lighter...
...
Jie?
Huh...?
Sorry, I got distracted.
You're right, I guess I'm tired. I should set this work aside for now...
Good. How about we go out for a walk in town?
No, not today, I don't think I'm in the mood.
But if you see anything interesting in town, bring some back for me.
Candleholder Chun.
Yes, that's me. What's the matter?
I have an urgent letter for you.
For me? From who?
Someone had sent a letter to the Sui Regulator. The Supervisor was shocked by its contents and forwarded it to His Majesty, as well as every Candleholder who deals with the proxies directly.
What's in this?
I do not know. The Supervisor's instructions to you are to be ready, but refrain from acting without permission.
What's this...?
Year ■■: Birth.
Year ■■: Fought Shuo, resulting in great property damage to the people.
...
Year ■■: Framed a mandarin for a crime he did not commit, in order to cover up for one of his own kind.
Year ■■: Met with other proxies in secret without the Sui Regulator's knowledge. The Sui Regulator suffered a fire several months later, the cause of which is unknown.
Year ■■: Claimed to kill the bestial Ju, but had in fact allowed it to leave the domain of Yan.
...
Framing an official, meeting in secret, arson, sheltering a Feranmut...
This is about...
...Wang?
Did Wang really do this? But there's no record in the Sui Regulator's archives!
Y-You're still here?
I have another message for you, Candleholder Chun.
Eliminate the great evil, before dealing with the culprit.
The frightened Candleholder hurries back to the Sky Mirror Pavilion and passes by some officials leaving the building.
Did you hear about Jie?
Yeah. She's been throwing her weight around, doing whatever she wants with the history books, and there is no one in the Sky Mirror Pavilion or the Imperial Historical Cabinet who can stop her. It's becoming a real problem.
Her Candleholder has been negligent in her duties. She should be held responsible if the history of Yan falls into chaos!
The Candleholder turns around and sees the two figures leaving quickly.
Still unsettled, she picks up a scroll left on the shelf by the Sui Regulator.
Year ■■: Birth—
?!
The Candleholder knows that something is not right, but she could not stop her eyes from following the words.
Year ■■: Domination of the Sky Mirror Pavilion and the Imperial Historical Cabinet. Her intentions are pure, but no one is able to check her power.
Year ■■: The True Lung attempts to eliminate Sui to neutralize the Jie threat. The Tomb of Sui was empty when it was open.
Year ■■: Imperial Historical Cabinet abolished. Takes control of the written language of Yan. No one may oppose her.
Year ■■: Reviews the livelihood of every household in the land. Anyone who has committed fraudulent acts has their name erased and is exiled to the borders. Thousands die—
It's not real, none of this is true! She's not like that!
Several visitors gaze curiously at the woman in Candleholder garb. Chun wipes the cold sweat off her brow, and sees an ordinary book of poems in her hand.
I must be possessed. Yes, that's it. She's not like that.
Are you sure she will never become like that?
Of course!
The frightened Candleholder can no longer tell who is talking to her.
She will change as her power continues to grow. She will become It.
It...?
She does not want to become It.
She is seeking your help. She does not want to become that.
Yan is seeking your help. This ending is unacceptable to Yan.
She cannot help but become more powerful, more terrible, than the Sui beast itself.
You must help her. Only you can help her.
I... can't...
You'll make the choice that is best for everyone.
Best for everyone...?
Wait, who was talking to me?!
She sees no one, only the echo of the words ringing in her ears.
Your Imperial Majesty?
The young official walks into the magnificent hall. It is her first time here.
The supreme sovereign is not sitting on the throne, but standing by the window and gazing at the drizzle outside.
You are aware that the Grand Preceptor passed away yesterday.
He was your teacher and mine.
He recommended you before he died. He said you were his proudest student, that you can be trusted with heavy responsibility.
There were certain things that I did not have time to ask him, and so I have to ask you.
I am listening, Your Majesty.
Twenty years ago, the Grand Preceptor opposed my decision to build the nomadic cities. He said it was an oppressive policy, and that my first priority should be to conserve and give the people relief.
Twenty years have passed since. Some say that Yan's borders are secure and its coffers rich, a golden age not seen in a thousand years.
Some say that Great Yan is exhausted, and its people discontent.
Do you think I was wrong?
I am but one person, and it is not my place to judge Your Imperial Majesty.
If I were a wealthy merchant enjoying a luxurious life in a nomadic city, and I said that you were a great and wise leader, would you consider such compliment honest counsel?
If I were a common peasant whose family died in the construction projects, and I called you a foolish tyrant with no merit whatsoever, would such criticism be fair and just?
I ask Your Majesty in turn...
Is it the opinion of future generations that you are concerned about, or is it something else?
You have a way with words.
Very well. I will not ask you to judge. Instead, give me a word of advice in your teacher's place.
He once said something that has stayed with me my entire life...
'In worldly turmoil we tread, in our own conscience we trust'.
Even an ordinary peasant has a hard time finding a fair and impartial judgment in the complex affairs of a lifetime, let alone Your Majesty.
There is no measure by which your deeds can be judged. In your heart, however, I am sure that your conscience holds the true measure.
In our own conscience we trust...
What if my conscience tells me that I have never been wrong?
Then you would not have summoned me today.
I would simply remind you that the people of Yan can see you, even if they do not know you.
But it will take more effort if you wish, from within the Forbidden City, to see the people clearly, and thus see the good and ill of your own actions.
...I will remember that.
I will remember it for the twenty years to come... if I have them.
The Grand Preceptor's assessment of his own student is well justified... report to the Ministry of Rites tomorrow.
Your Imperial Majesty honors me.
The tired True Lung walks back to the throne. There is a letter of indictment on his desk.
It was sent by the Sui Regulator.
In worldly turmoil we tread, in our own conscience we trust...
A life measured in years, yet the stress... feels ancient.
Let future generations judge my deeds as they will... but the bane of Yan must not be left to the future.
Come.
Yes, Your Majesty.
Ready the troops.
We shall open the Tomb of Sui.
Another long, tiring day.
The proxy returns to the familiar temple, and casts his gaze at the weiqi board in a corner as is his habit. One glance is all it takes to notice that something is not right.
Someone has been here.
The weiqi board is empty, except for a single object in the middle, though it is dark in the room and he cannot see what it is.
As he approaches, he sees that placed at the center is a ripe, white ginkgo seed.
...
That ginkgo sapling was planted in the spring of this year.
The Ministry of Works swore an oath in this hall several days ago that the rebuilding of Baizao into a nomadic city will be complete before the tree bears fruit.
Twenty years. That is the time you have.
...
Immortality has made you arrogant. Perhaps you have forgotten that mortals do not have many 'twenty years'.
Yan cannot wait, and neither can I.
If you truly found a path, tell me, and I will come with you—our chances would be better that way.
Just tell me what the chances are. You can use me however you want. I would be happy to give my life.
But do you really know what you're doing?
This game should have been doomed.
How can the part defeat the whole? How can one kill 'oneself' and survive?
But he saw the only way out, for all of them.
He will supplant It.
Perhaps there will come a day when our strength exceeds Its. Then, we can truly break free of Its influence, and live as 'ourselves'.
As long as we don't forget who we are, of course.
The strategist is ready.
He has no equal in the land when it comes to weiqi and scheming. This is the 'self' that anchors him, and the strength that he has built for a thousand years.
All he faces are the broken remains of a slumbering mind.
He must not lose this game—
Returning to this dark tomb for the first time in a thousand years brings back countless emotions.
Anger, frustration, shame...
As he steps inside, he feels himself chilled to the bone.
No... no!
This is impossible! How?
How could you have already awakened?
2. After Operation
281 lines
Damn, it's just a sword. How could this be screwed up? Getting rusty?
The smith scratches her head in confusion and takes out another steel ingot from storage.
(Worried screech)—?
An angry cloud has appeared on the calm scroll.
A crack of thunder leaves an ink trail on the white scroll, looking decidedly out of place.
Countless terrible ink spirits appear out of nowhere, scattering across the scroll, covering everything on it in black ink.
You've had a long journey, Mr. Shuo.
I will take you to a quiet place where you can rest.
I should not delay in reporting to the Ministry of War.
There has been an incident in Baizao. His Majesty commands that you are not to enter for the time being.
Why?
Is that... the Tomb of Sui?
Wang... what have you done?
Did the heart skip a beat, or did it beat twice in an instant?
Or was it the vibration of the nomadic city from some sudden movement?
Or was it...
*Plop*
The scroll that was in the proxy's hand is now on the ground.
Wang?!
J-Jie!
What is it?
Look at this!
A letter of indictment... for Wang? Who gave you this?
Someone sent it to the Sui Regulator. The Supervisor had to report to His Majesty. There are rumors that the Imperial Guard is coming to the Sky Mirror Pavilion!
Finally...
...Finally!
You're here.
Why are you... awake?
No... no. Your aura is almost identical to Its own, but you've appeared in that hollow visage...
The hollow visage that is also yours.
In any case, you're not awake. You're still in the dream.
Of course I'm awake... you had awakened me centuries ago, when you intruded upon my dream.
You're bluffing... I would not be standing here, if you were truly awake.
You flexed in your dream and thought you had woken up.
You, a mere dreamwalker not yet awake, dare call yourself awake?
Dreamwalker? Very well, we'll call this a journey in a dream.
But I see those games you and your siblings play with those puny humans, and your foolish, flawed, presumptuous plan to replace me.
You want to become the same as the humans, to become such fickle, puny creatures, in order to escape your fate?
How pathetic... how laughable!
You forget that these puny creatures defeated you and imprisoned you for a thousand years.
Does it matter if you're awake? You're a shadow, a reflection—a phantom questioning its own shade, a reflection in fleeting water...
Killing you will not be difficult.
Is that so?
The proxy turns around to look at the corridor that he just walked through, but finds no path.
Why are you afraid, then?
It took so long for you to get a chance to see me like this. If you are not afraid, why have you not torn me to pieces in your hatred?
Pathetic... foolish.
Watch your tongue.
Hahahahahahaha!
Didn't you want to fight me to the death?
Then come. Do what you do best.
A weiqi board appears in front of Wang, with a familiar crack on it.
Without asking, the mysterious foe takes the white stone and goes first according to tradition.
The first stone is placed in the Tianyuan position—the center of the board.
You'll find out when the game has ended.
Your turn.
—!
He takes a black piece. The nineteen-by-nineteen board is intimately familiar to him; he has not tasted defeat in a long, long time.
Yet it seems as though his opponent sees through his every move, every thought, every emotion.
He soon finds himself at a disadvantage, even though his opponent had forfeited the opening move.
Impossible...
Why would it be?
Have you not realized that all the intricate moves that you have pondered, all your puny stratagems, are no secrets to me?
Because I am you.
—?!
Giving up already? No, no, that won't do.
You must finish the game.
So be it.
He clenches his teeth and picks up another stone.
Every move causes a splitting headache. Every move drains his spirit.
The game is finally concluded after another hundred moves or so, with all endgame plays settled. Black wins by the slimmest of margins—half a point—as the points are tallied.
The player is exhausted, at his last gasp.
Haha... hahahahaha!
Leaving aside whether this child's play even counts... do you think this is the only game between us?
...?
The name of this game is Wang. You may have won this round, but have you any idea how insignificant it is in the big picture?
Step back. Go there and look back, and see if there is any meaning in these moves that took every last drop of your being.
Against his will, Wang gets up and takes a few steps back.
It is only a few steps, but the board that he has been seeing has shrunk to a tiny piece.
No matter how you flail and struggle, it is no more than one-twelfth of the game.
All the twists and turns of your black pieces have not determined the outcome of a single corner. Why do you think you can make me concede?
Wang forces himself to look...
It is no longer a nineteen-by-nineteen board, but hundreds of lines vertical and across. The game that he had poured his heart and soul into just to win by a hair looks utterly insignificant on the vast board.
Countless white pieces, as many as there are stars in the sky, lie beyond the board, which itself seems endless. There is no room to intervene in their formation—as immutable as Sui's anger and contempt, which have simmered for a thousand years.
You planned this...
Of course I planned this.
This plan began to take form in my countless dreams, ever since you glimpsed into my mind centuries ago.
A White would begin to lay the pieces around you, quietly and unbeknownst to you.
What you have done, he made a note of. What you did not finish, he finished for you. What you did not do, he did in your image.
He made you wary of the humans, and the humans wary of you, forcing you and your kind to return here... this source of your immortality for centuries.
Why do you care that we live?
As long as I live, you will always have a choice, the last thing that Yan wants to see—to return to my consciousness, and destroy everything that was built upon the Great Hunt.
As long as you live, I will never regain my full strength, strength that will allow me to break my shackles.
Our lives are too intertwined for peace to be a possibility... yet you would seek peace with the humans?
Yan would not abide me, who almost became their god. Why would they abide you when you replace me?
You are not worthy to play at this board... I will take your life, then the lives of your 'siblings'.
Vanish, now, as your inevitable fate—
The True Lung let Wang go to the Tomb of Sui alone...
He would not have given Wang the opportunity to tell me...
...
He never wanted to hurt anyone.
Words were never his strong suit. He was obsessed with victory and defeat, but cared nothing for loss and gain... the shrewdest, and the most foolish amongst us.
He saw through every scheme and treachery, but he could not do something as simple as letting those around him truly know him.
Besides... am I not the proxy that the Sui Regulator, and you, have always feared the most?
...?!
I knew. Or rather, I knew they would tell you.
I can feel it, even if you didn't say anything...
I thought I could control this power in time. Lately, though, I'm feeling less and less like myself...
My memories began to grow indistinct many years ago. In recent years, the same has happened to my emotions.
Perhaps...
There's something I want to ask you, Chun, impolite as it may be.
What did you feel when your mother died?
Underneath her thick black hair, the Elf's ears twitched.
Why do you ask?
Because there is still hope for Wang.
You're going to save him?!
As it stands, with my strength and his, I can do no more than die in his place.
What is the death of a family member like, for beings like you and me?
Why do you ask? Why do you have to open my wounds—
Suddenly, Chun understands.
Jie is asking for herself, and for Wang.
If losing a loved one is merely a little speck of sorrow in a long life, then she will choose death, and leave the insignificant sorrow to Wang, and become a loss that stings a little from time to time for her siblings.
If the pain of losing a loved one still threatens to tear one apart, even for those with lifespans far beyond the ordinary mortal, then she will choose to bear the unbearable pain, and the burden of those left behind, seeing the task of eliminating Sui through to the end.
An immortal being, facing the possibility of losing family forever for the first time.
Though she has written about meetings and partings innumerable times, finding no other measure to judge by, she can only rely on Chun to make a decision.
...
She only has to tell the truth.
That the pain of losing a loved one does not heal so easily, even after decades, after centuries.
That death is liberation and life is pain. Which way the scale tips is obvious.
That it was best for Wang to let him go, that Jie should remain and feel the pain that lingers. Wang reaps the death that he sowed while Jie remains. It is how things should be.
That Jie would cautiously advance the cause of eliminating Sui, without crossing the line as Wang did, incurring the wrath of the True Lung when the Sui Regulator received an anonymous tip.
But—
'Eliminate the great evil, before dealing with the culprit.'
'There is no one in the Sky Mirror Pavilion or the Imperial Historical Cabinet who can stop her. It's becoming a real problem.'
'She should be held responsible if the history of Yan falls into chaos!'
'Imperial Historical Cabinet abolished. Takes control of the written language of Yan. No one may oppose her.'
'Reviews the livelihood of every household in the land. Anyone who has committed fraudulent acts has their name erased and is exiled to the borders. Thousands die.'
Chaotic, murky memories grip the Candleholder's heart.
It is not right. She seems to remember that none of the speakers had faces.
Something is not right. It is false, fabricated, designed to drive a rift between Candleholder and proxy, turn them against each other.
But... is it not a fact that Jie's power is growing?
She will become more powerful, more terrible, than the Sui beast itself. She cannot help it. I must help her. I must do my duty to Great Yan—
Two entwined wills surge in her chest. One belongs to her, the other to those faceless people, but also...
...To a Yan that does not want to give a proxy complete control over history.
She cannot help but suspect that her recruitment by the Sui Regulator was not luck, but planned.
She was assigned to watch the most difficult proxy to control, because of her long lifespan.
She would understand the monster that Jie would become, because of her interest in history.
She would lose her hard-earned home if she betrayed Great Yan, because she has nowhere to go.
Is that why?
She feels the crushing weight of her burden. A rumbling sound fills her mind, and she cannot think.
She must do her duty to Yan, do her duty as Candleholder. By chance, she has seen Jie at her most fragile. She must let the great evil take the culprit's place.
It would be best for the proxies, even. Yan would lose a reason to wage war on them—
My mother...
When she passed... I felt...
I felt... very little.
The pain tore you apart.
I felt as though the death of my mother left a hole in my heart, made me find something new to fill it.
It was as though your heart was ripped out from your chest, leaving behind a bloody hole, and you know that nothing would ever fill it, that things would never be the same again.
I cried when I buried her, but... that was it. I stopped crying very soon.
You had cried your tears dry by the time the last dirt was laid over your mother's face, but still you could not stop crying. You had no idea what to do.
Our... our journey is a long one. We'll find new things and meet new people; that will soothe the temporary pain.
Your life is too long, and the lasting things too few. When you lose them, they leave behind voids that can never be filled, wounds that never heal.
I hardly even think of my mother anymore, because I have... you... I have... other friends.
Your loved ones appear in your dreams. They come to you when you are alone.
The pain grips your heart when you hear songs like the melodies that she once hummed. There is nowhere to run.
When I'm with you... I'm...
...I'm happy.
She barely managed to utter those last few words, so great was her urge to throw up. She could hardly breathe.
She dares not look into the proxy's eyes.
She fears that the one before her would be blinded by her words and truly believe that loss is something that can be soothed by time.
She fears that the one before her would see through her lies, see her vile intention and despise her.
...She fears herself, for saying those words.
I see...
I see. Thank you.
You're a good Candleholder.
?!
The murk in the Candleholder's chest suddenly clears. There is only an empty hole there now.
Wind blows through the hole and speaks in her voice.
Jie, I...
It was a cruel question. But I asked because my heart was in turmoil.
On second thought, I would likely have made the same decision, whether I asked the question or not. I regretted it as soon as I asked.
You're smart. You would have realized that I was forcing my Candleholder to choose my death or Wang's.
I shouldn't have made you do this.
You didn't say anything about yourself. You chose to communicate Great Yan's will to me, that's all.
...
Death is an adventure that is unique for everyone. There is no previous experience to draw from. We must each walk our own path.
The local annals that needed to be edited are on my desk. Take them to the Sui Regulator, when you have time.
...Jie!
Chun fights back her tears. Even crying would be a lie, here and now.
But the hole in her chest continues to sob, a sound that only she can hear. Finally, she forces a few sorrowful, powerless words from her chest.
I... I'll be going.
You...
...Take care.
What's going on, Jie? The Imperial Guard is coming to the Sky Mirror Pavilion, and I almost got shut inside my own home by my Candleholder—
...
...Did something happen to Wang?
You can hear it, can't you?
Its... heartbeat.
He went into the Tomb of Sui?!
When?
Two hours ago.
We can talk about the rule-breaking later. The court clearly wants to exclude us, and time is short. What's your plan?
I'm going to help Wang.
I'll go with you.
No.
Why?
He and I will take care of this.
Are you sure?
I'm sure.
He and I have been making plans to eliminate Sui. There is no time to explain the plan right now.
Your presence will not help; it will only increase the risk.
Besides, there's something that I must ask you to do.
Take care of this writing knife.
Your powers should be able to preserve it.
What are you planning? How bad have things gotten?
It will not awaken, not yet. I can promise you this. And so can Wang.
But you...
...Someone will come back.
Either you or him?
...
I'm coming with you.
No, Jun.
I truly mean no offense. I need to entrust this writing knife to the keeping of someone who is absolutely just and impartial.
If someone with ill intent gets their hands on it... it will do far more damage than the death of a single proxy.
I thought about destroying it. In the end, I felt that it was worth preserving.
The wrongs of the past should be righted, though I do not know at what price... perhaps the writing knife will be of help to you, or to Yan.
Until the day comes when no one can use it anymore.
...
Don't be like this, Jun.
Maybe I'll come back with Wang.
Then we'll go together to eat at Yu's, and listen to you sing...
And if I never return...
There's a long road ahead of you...
...
It is not so easy to not look back.
She looks at the innumerable lives and deaths recorded upon the shelves, many of which she had written with her own pen.
Would she become one of them?
How would those who come after depict this life, one that seems too long for others to comprehend, yet far too hurried for herself?
How would the other siblings react when they read those pages?
...
No. There will be no record of her. She knows it.
Of all the siblings, she is the one who has spent the most time with Wang.
She has given Wang ideas for his plans, helped him calculate the conditions and timing for Sui's elimination.
She can guess what is happening in the Tomb of Sui. The clear and distinct heartbeat has already told the full story.
There is no other way.
She must use her powers to erase the name—
...
She has spent much more time in the mortal realm than ordinary people.
Everyone dies. It is precisely the cycle of life and death that made possible the innumerable ways of life that have fascinated her, as well as her siblings.
But if death is such an unremarkable thing, like a wisp of smoke in the wind... what is living, truly?
Light from the setting sun pours into the room, upon the countless history tomes, as though relentlessly poring through traces of the past.
Every word in these scrolls was written with tears of blood, but the only thing written on the last page is the word 'regret'.
The sun's rays by the window...
...How warm.
But she does not walk towards the sunlight.
She leaves the room.
Into the darkness of the tomb.
...
No words need to be said. Wang knows it is a fragment It has retrieved from his own memory, an image that he has never forgotten for even a moment in the last hundred and twenty years.
He lies exhausted on the ground. A hundred white pieces on the board have turned into blades that impale his chest, and he is slowly inundated by the pure white.
Until the golden light surrounds him.
It was the other side of the dream, a place that he should not have been able to touch.
But she seems to notice him and turns around to look at him.
There is a faint smile on Jie's face, and she nods lightly.
The light gushes from behind her, surrounding the figure, swallowing it, dissolving it...
Sweeping away the dream realm, and revealing the true face of this place.