The Book of Heroes

  “We would trip, fall to the ground, and be hit by the spinning spokes. The spokes would crush our bones, and we would return to nothing.”

  Meanwhile, the rotation of the Pillar of Earth would slow. This was because the Hero would use up all the stories within the confines of the Circle. A story devoured by the Hero would not return to the nameless land.

  “No matter how hard the nameless devout pushed, eventually, the Pillar of Earth would not move.”

  And that, the Archdevout told her, would be the end of her Circle.

  “The moment before the Circle stopped, the Pillar of Earth would shriek, singing its song louder than any song heard before. This cry is a message to those who live in the Circle that their world is ending. Some have likened it to the sounding of the angels’ trumpets.”

  In the end, once the Great Wheel of Earth had stopped spinning, the free-spinning Great Wheel of Heaven would also slow, eventually joining it in stillness. When that happened, those nameless devout who had not already been returned to nothing would be left alone here in this land.

  “Where they would wait for the next Circle to be born.”

  “What about the Hero?” Yuriko asked.

  “The Hero has already descended into the Circle. Should the Circle end, the Hero will end with it.”

  “And the Hall of All Books?”

  “It shall remain,” the Archdevout told her. As he spoke, his eyes flickered in the direction of the hall. Yuriko followed his eyes out into the void of night.

  The great silhouette of the hall was lost in the darkness. Only tiny points of light from the windows were dimly visible in the distance.

  “While we waited for the next Circle to be born, we would go into the Hall of All Books and take from there every last one of the carven books—they represent all the stories of the lost Circle—and we would destroy them, leaving the hall empty, awaiting the arrival of new stories whenever they might come.” So would her civilization disappear, and another civilization be born, the Archdevout explained. “That is the history of this nameless land where time does not exist.”

  But then—

  “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “Whatever you wish,” the Archdevout replied. “You are free to follow your heart.”

  She could return to the Circle, the Archdevout explained, and watch the Hero at work and be destroyed together with her world. Of course, that destruction would take time. It might not even come within her lifetime. It was more than likely that Yuriko could live out the rest of her days in relative peace.

  “The books in Mr. Minochi’s reading room said the same thing.”

  The Archdevout nodded. “Yes, that way is still available to you. What you do not see and do not know of does not exist, after all. You can forget about this land if you wish it.”

  “But I can’t forget about my brother.” Yuriko had meant to shout the words, but they came out weakly, no stronger than a sigh. “And I can’t forget all of you either.”

  How could she erase what she had seen, what she had learned? She could not. That was Yuriko’s choice. “But I can’t fight the Hero—the King in Yellow—either. I can’t save the Circle. I’m just a kid. How can I do something so huge? I just want to save my brother. I just want to see him again.”

  “Allcaste,” the Archdevout addressed Yuriko, bowing his head deeply and taking both her hands in his. “You speak of two goals, yet they are one and the same.”

  Saving the world is the same as saving my brother? That’s impossible. One was the destiny of, well, everything. The other was just a boy. How much more different could that be?

  The Archdevout squeezed her hands more tightly. “Think on this. Your brother has become the last vessel. Now, do you remember what the last vessel is?”

  “Yes, the last container for the power that the Hero needed to break free from its prison. The last drop to fill the chasm.”

  “If this is true, then take away that drop, and the chasm will not be completely filled.”

  Yuriko’s eyes went wide. “Take away the drop?”

  The Archdevout nodded. “Should you take your brother from the King in Yellow, then the Hero will lose power equal in measure to that which it gained from him.”

  So I have to undo what Hiroki did. He added the last drop. I have to take it away.

  “Should the Hero lose the power contained within the last vessel, it will lose its strength until it flows back into the greater story of its own accord. Once it has returned to the flow, the Great Wheel of Earth will pull it back here to the nameless land where it will return to being only a story—a very powerful one, but simply a story and nothing more.”

  “Is that true?” Yuriko asked, still unable to believe what she was hearing. “That’s all? I just have to take my brother away from the Hero and that will save the world?” It sounded too good to be true. Or rather too small an act to really make a difference.

  The Archdevout smiled. “Tell me, in the region where you grew up, what did they teach you about the value of a person’s life?”

  Yuriko was nonplussed. What kind of question is that? “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

  “Then let me ask in a different way,” the Archdevout continued gently. “In your region, what does one compare a person’s life to? What do they say a person’s life is worth more than, or worth as much as?”

  Yuriko thought a moment. “My teacher once said that a person’s life is more precious than the whole world.”

  The Archdevout let go of Yuriko’s hands and lifted one index finger. “So we might say that a human life has the same value as the world, yes?”

  Yuriko frowned. “Okay.”

  “Therefore it shouldn’t be strange to think that saving one person’s life could indeed lead to saving the world, should it?”

  Yuriko frowned again. I’m not sure I’m buying this.

  The smile faded from the Archdevout’s wrinkled face. When he spoke again, his voice was solemn and severe. “Imagine a world in which a single boy, by his own free will, does not hesitate to take the life of another. This is no different from a world in which one thousand men might take the lives of another thousand, or ten thousand the lives of another ten thousand.”

  Yuriko’s eyes opened wide as she looked at the Archdevout. The Archdevout met her gaze, unwavering. In that moment, it was as though a fog had lifted. Suddenly, things were starting to make sense.

  “We are one, but we are many. Many, but one,” Yuriko whispered. “That’s what you mean?”

  The Archdevout nodded deeply. “If you truly wish to save your brother, then you truly can save the world. Yet…” he stared intently at the girl, “do you know how great your difficulties will be in saving your brother? Do you know what great fears you must overcome along this path? In order to save your brother, you must meet the Hero. A single misstep, and you too will be taken and swallowed whole.

  “Though they do you credit, your feelings for your brother may also be your undoing. You may wander, despair, and fall into self-pity. For the Hero is very strong. It is a complete story, possessing unparalleled power. It can bewitch men and take them hostage. And the dark side of the coin, the King in Yellow, is always there.”

  Yuriko wasn’t the type to argue the finer points of things, but something the Archdevout said put a question she wanted to ask into perspective, and it came bubbling out of her. “You know, something always struck me as strange.”

  The Archdevout nodded lightly. “Yes?”

  “You all talk about the Hero and the King in Yellow as being two sides of the same coin, right? Which is just a way of saying they can’t be separated, right?”

  “This is true,” the Archdevout agreed.

  “Well then, why don’t people just look at the good side? At the ‘hero’ and not the ‘king.’ Then the King in Yellow won’t lead them astray, and they can just take the good parts of the story. You wouldn’t even have to imprison it.”

  People just
had to be careful how they handled the Hero, that’s all, Yuriko thought. Keep their eyes on the front and never look at the back.

  The Archdevout stared at Yuriko for some time. Yuriko stared back. After a while like this, the Archdevout sighed—a curiously human gesture. Yuriko wondered if it was for her benefit. “You are still a child. And while I admire your faith in humanity, you seem to misunderstand the coin,” he said, shaking his head. “It is a metaphor. There is no coin.”

  “I know, but—”

  “The Hero and the King in Yellow are one and the same thing, allcaste.”

  Two sides of the same coin, I know that! But there has to be a way…

  “Let me put it another way,” the Archdevout said, sighing again. “Were the nameless devout or the people in your Circle to see the Hero’s face, we would not know it. Nor would we know the King in Yellow. We would not be able to tell them apart.”

  “Well then shouldn’t we try to figure out how to tell them apart?”

  The Archdevout fell silent.

  Maybe I said too much. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to say your system here isn’t working, it’s just…” Yuriko swallowed. This isn’t making things any better. “Just, I don’t feel like I can really chase down something I know nothing about, let alone fight it alone.”

  Yuriko had meant it as a confession, but somehow it came out sounding more like a complaint. I’m even starting to get on my own nerves.

  But the Archdevout seemed to understand what she meant. “You’re not alone,” he offered gently. “The many books in the Circle are your allies.”

  But books can’t fight. They can’t hold swords.

  “And there are the wolves. They are true warriors, allcaste. They will protect and serve you until your mission is complete.”

  “But where do I find them?”

  The Archdevout’s sour face brightened. “They will find you.”

  There were many wolves within the Circle, the Archdevout told her. They were already aware that the Hero had broken its bonds and would be moving to discover who had become the last vessel, and where he was. “They will find you because in order to free the last vessel from the Hero’s enchantment, and thereby weaken the King in Yellow, they will need the strength of an allcaste who shares the last vessel’s bloodline.”

  “I can’t believe people would do something so dangerous like that just because they wanted to…” Yuriko began, then she remembered what the Archdevout had just told her. The wolves, like nameless devout, were inculpated. They too were doing penance for the sin of storytelling.

  That’s why they’ll help me. Until my mission is complete. My mission for one—getting back my brother—is also for many. Saving the world.

  “Come.” The Archdevout extended a hand to Yuriko. “Let us return to the Hall of All Books. We must show you the Book of Heroes.”

  “The Book of Heroes?”

  The Archdevout nodded as they walked down the hillside hand in hand. “In the Hall of All Books there is one volume alone that retains the shape it holds within the Circle. This is the book in which the Hero was imprisoned.”

  Though now that the Hero had escaped, the Archdevout explained, the book was nothing more than an empty cage, awaiting the return of its prisoner.

  “Until the blank Book of Heroes once again holds that story within its pages, it is called the Hollow Book. It bears upon its cover the same glyph that you now wear upon your forehead. And on the day that you release the last vessel, the glyph upon your forehead and its sister upon the Hollow Book will burn more brightly than ever before, and then fade.”

  “A great deal depends on me.” Through her glyph she was, in effect, responsible for bringing the Hero back to its prison. “Not only do I have to find my brother, I have to fix what he’s done, don’t I?”

  It was more of a complaint off the top of her head then a revelation sprung from deep thoughts. Partially, she was saying it to herself. Though when she said it, she couldn’t help but notice that the young nameless devout who was again following them as he had on the way to the hill broke stride for a fraction of a second.

  Yuriko felt suddenly embarrassed. He thinks I’m blaming my brother for all of this. He thinks I’m blaming him for putting me in this position.

  “If you find this path too difficult,” the Archdevout said quietly, “then you may remove the glyph upon your forehead and leave this place.”

  Yuriko walked toward the Hall of All Books in silence. She had reached the foot of that impossibly massive folding screen of a wall before she stopped and took a deep breath.

  “I will not run away from this.”

  Yuriko resumed walking, her pace faster and more determined than before.

  Telling her to wait at the Dome of Convocation, the Archdevout bid Yuriko farewell at the entrance to the hall. The young nameless devout accompanied her to the middle of the Dome, so that she wouldn’t get lost. When they reached the dais, the young nameless devout bowed and left, leaving Yuriko to wait by herself.

  Something odd had happened on their way to the dome. As they walked, the young nameless devout looked over his shoulder several times as though expecting to see someone following. Each time, he did it so quickly that Yuriko didn’t have time to ask him what the matter was. Still, it made her nervous.

  Now that she was alone, she grew even more nervous. What if something was there? Something waiting in the darkness. Why would a nameless devout act like that?

  A rat, maybe? Yuriko made herself picture it until she laughed. Imagine a rat being here. It’d eat all the books. That is, if they weren’t made of stone.

  Sitting alone in the middle of it, Yuriko felt that the Dome of Convocation seemed immensely vast. It seemed as though she could hear her own breath echoing off the ceiling high above.

  Eventually, she heard light footfalls approaching, and the Archdevout reappeared. Behind him came four devout bearing a large silver chest between them. The chest was covered with carved letters of all sorts on all six sides. It looks like a casket, she thought. The casket had four metal rings attached to the corners of its lid, two in the front and two in back, through which ran two long metal poles that the nameless devout carried upon their shoulders.

  The Archdevout joined Yuriko on the stage in the center of the dome. Meanwhile, the four nameless devout set down their burden and removed the metal poles.

  The Archdevout approached the casket and placing his hands together, bowed. Then he took a step back, knelt down upon the floor with both hands out in front of him, and brushed his head to the ground twice. Then he stood. The four nameless devout approached, one at each corner, and at a nod from the Archdevout, they opened the lid.

  Yuriko braced herself, but nothing happened. No lights streamed from the casket. There was no loud noise, no noxious plumes of smoke. The Archdevout knelt reverently, then walking on his knees, slowly slid up to the casket where he bowed a final time before reaching inside.

  He pulled out something small wrapped in dark black cloth. It was shaped like a book. The Archdevout shuffled back on his knees to his original position, where he sat, straight-backed, and began to undo the black cloth.

  “The Hollow Book,” the Archdevout announced simply.

  The black cloth fell away, revealing an old, leather-bound tome. It was large, very large, and yet surprisingly plain. Yuriko could see no markings upon it whatsoever.

  Maybe that’s because it’s blank? It must’ve been beautiful when it was still the Book of Heroes…Yuriko snapped out of her train of thought. Something was wrong.

  The four nameless devout who had carried in the casket stood motionless, rooted to the spot. They were staring at the Archdevout, who in turn was standing so still he might have become a statue. His eyes, almost hidden by his wrinkles before, were open wide, and his whole body was trembling. Yuriko heard a strange noise; his teeth were chattering.

  “What’s wrong?” Yuriko asked, taking a step toward him.

  “Stay there!”
the Archdevout practically shouted at her. Yuriko shrank back as though stung by a whip.

  He wasn’t even looking in her direction. His eyes were fixed on the empty book in his hands. His hands shook as he gripped it, and the jet-black cloth slipped and fell to the floor.

  “What is this?” Yuriko thought she heard him say, though his voice was more a moan than proper words.

  The Archdevout began shaking his head. He shook it several times, then let it sink down until his forehead touched the cover of the Hollow Book.

  Fear crept over Yuriko. Something’s not right. Something happened that he wasn’t expecting. She had never seen any of the devout look so flustered. Or show any sort of emotion like this at all.

  “Archdevout, what is it?”

  Instead of answering, the Archdevout and the four with him looked up, their faces taut and pale. They looked poised to run, like frightened rabbits, looking back toward the entrance to the dome.

  Something was very wrong. Yuriko stood, struck speechless at this turn of events. Next to her, the Archdevout shouted into the darkness.

  “You there! Show yourself!”

  Something in the darkness shivered. Yuriko blinked. She saw it again—a rippling in the gloom that gradually took the form of a small person.

  Black robes, bare feet, a youthful face. A nameless devout. But his face is different! He wasn’t old like the Archdevout, or like the four who had come carrying the caskets.

  “P-please forgive me,” the new arrival stammered. “Forgive me!”

  With great speed, the devout ran down toward the center of the dome and before Yuriko knew what was going on had prostrated himself before them and began bowing to the ground, begging for their forgiveness. Yuriko stood for a moment, wondering what that strange slapping sound was, when she realized it was the sound of his forehead hitting the floor.