Chapter 37

Draft

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You realize you're shaking when Lemuel kissed you.

Did you start shaking when he touched you, or did you find yourself shaking after he kissed you? You don't quite know. Your body is shaking, your teeth are chattering, and you're more cold than scared. The flames in your bones receded, the december chill reappeared, and your sweat-soaked fabric and hair began to cool, shrouding you like a cloak. The arm you used to hug Lemuel trembled, as if you had lifted something too heavy, you couldn't stop it.

The weather is so cold, the liquids exposed to the air quickly became sticky and frigid, such as sweat, such as blood. The blood that Lemuel rubs against your face is also losing temperature, only the area covered by his palms are still as warm as ever. Your hands are no cleaner than his, ink and blood (and perhaps brains) are strewn across your hands and sleeves. You look down uncontrollably, the corpse at your feet horribly dead.

You killed him- it's only now that your mind registers this clearly.

You've killed countless demons, and they're all evil beasts, not people. Now you've killed for the first time a servant of God. This sin is monstrous and unforgivable. Lemuel lifts your chin again, preventing you from looking down at the corpse of your work. His palms are warm, his lips soft, and some kind of scary but charming flame is beating inside his red eyes. You close yours, as if you've just woken up with Lemuel in some precipitous morning, even with the greatest willpower, it was hard to immediately move on.

"I'm fine." After a few minutes, you say with difficulty and push Lemuel, "Leave here, there might be reinforcements."

Lemuel lets go of his hand and looks at you inquisitively, this time you acted carefully according to the Holy See's the operating mechanism. If no signal is received, there'll be no large-scale blockades. After all, most of the search this time is for purpose of casting a wide net. The larger the net, the sparser it is, there's always a way to leave. Lemuel listens intently, nodding frequently, and finally he suggests that you should deal with the corpses.

"Don't be too careful, as long as there's enough time to let us go far." Lemuel narrows his eyes and twitches the corners of his mouth, "Just fertilize your garden."

That smile is rather cold, but at the same time calm. Just like when you looked up at him just now, it was the look of someone who knew exactly what they were going ot do. His eyes are reassuring, making people believe that all problems will eventually disappear, and even if not, he'll solve them one by one.

There are four corpses here, only the one you made looks particularly appalling. The other three (including the one who was stabbed by Lemuel after being knocked unconscious by you) basically died of a broken spine, they died cleanly. Lemuel is indeed proficient in killing. You take the corpses that didn't bleed much to the garden, you have to find a means of transport to secure the one that bleed all over the place. You open the utility room to find a stretcher, but Lemuel sees something else, he points to the trolley in the corner of the room and laughs.

"I remember this, you used it to bring me back," He says, shaking his head gleefully. "Oh, what a wonderful world."

Sometimes you just don't understand his sense of humor, he laughs at his own scars like they're really funny. But you agree with the second half of the sentence, what a wonderful world. A year ago you brought back a half-dead demon with that trolley, and a year later you were complicit in hiding away a clergy's corpse together. Six years ago you couldn't have imagined the life of an ordinary priest, a year ago you couldn't have imagined yourself so depraved, so free, so intensely emotional, a few minutes ago you couldn't have imagined that you can continue to standing besides Lemuel, talking, kissing.

You dig in the garden and bury the body in it. You put the mess of tables and chairs back to their places and drag the sofa blanket to cover up the blood on the floor. Lemuel knows how to cover up bullet holes, and you, who have rescued so many scarred animals and children over the years, knows what to do with blood. "We're a natural couple!" Lemuel whistles, "We should go to a place where even birds don't shit and become bandits, killing people and breaking the law. What a happy partnership."

You know he's not serious, Lemuel's good at killing but he doesn't like being a criminal, otherwise he wouldn't have chosen to go to the battlefield so many years ago. He's been rambling since you survived- in fact, since you bumped into that man with the compass- there has been a drunken euphoria in those eyes. He's been talking, talking about the route of escape, talking about the future.

"We should go west, across Lake Cron, to the Great Plains," Lemuel says. "I checked that route when I was wandering, and the people were all poor, too desolate, not good for little girls, but just right for us. There's few adults in the place, just get a car, bring good fuel, and run for a few days without hitting one or two people. There's bound to be more hares than people though. Cross the Great Plains near the border, and the south is full of black households and smugglers. It's a mess, no one cares who you are. The situation in the north isn't bad, there's no demons, and the Holy See is out of reach. All kinds of people come and go, but the problems won't be anything we can't solve, it's better there than the south. I had a comrade-in-arms from there, and he told me about maple syrup from his hometown before he died."

He carefully described the road ahead, the means of transportation, and the backup plan, interspersed with hare traps. How to make it, the white feathers of a certain bird, how to find the squirrel's buried treasure. Lemuel seems to know everything, he tells you confidently, like a fish about to swim into the sea. You relax but feel an unbearable commotion at the same time.

You hug Lemuel from behind, wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your head in his neck. He's so warm and firm, like a stove. You hear Lemuel breathing softly, maybe laughing, maybe sighing.

"It's nothing, it won't be too difficult," He says, patting the back of your hand. "After the first time, once we run away from those reinforcements, there'll be nothing to worry about."

"They won't be looking everywhere." You say, "After I go back, they'll withdraw the teams."

Lemuel's body stiffens in your arms.

"What?" He says.

"Once I go back..."

He throws your hand away, tearing you from his body and turning to look at you. That drunken joy is finally swept away, Lemuel interrupts you firmly: "Where are you going?"

"The Holy See," You answer.

"Y-You still want to go back?" Lemuel says incredulously, pointing to the garden grounds, "After this?"

"I have to go back," You say, "His Majesty the Pope needs me."

Lemuel's lips tremble, the lines of his cheeks tighten, and he's probably biting the flesh of his mouth to avoid the irreparable vicious words from erupting immediately. Anger covers his face, even more so than before.

"Do you regret it?" Lemuel says. "What have you done now, after we buried them? Doss you scare you? Good boy, are you afraid of not getting a ticket to heaven, you want o deliver yourself to their door to repent? Ha, then you're so goddamned pious and holy! Your breeder will be absolutely mad with joy, the pigs who has ran out of the pigpen runs back without anyone chasing them. Stamp it on the corpse: 'Exemplary livestock'! It deserves a reward!"

He speaks faster and faster, wrapping his hands around your neck. You try to interject several times, but failed to find the opportunity, and when he came to an end, you were finally able to speak.

You say, "I have no regrets."

You were both an accomplice and a principal, and a servant of God have died at your hands. You feel sad, but you're not afraid. The scales put Lemuel on one side and them on the other. If you choose Lemuel, then you'll bear the consequences of killing them. It's your choice, whether it's good or bad, right or wrong, you've made that decision and you're responsible for it. Lemuel's eyes are like fire, his anger so vivid. He's so close to you that his breath is on your face, you know that even if you do it again, you'll make the same choice.

You don't regret it.

But, you just have to go back.

Lemuel tells you that good and evil aren't two boxes that are either one or the other, and he's right. The world isn't a black and white fairy tale. Your hands are bloodied, your faith is shaken, and the gates of heaven have been closed to you. But most of your life belonged there, the Holy See is your family, your school, your hometown, and their rules and teachings constitute your blood and bones. They've been cracked in the impact, but they cannot be destroyed in a day. You love Lemuel deeply, so deeply, more than you love others, more than you love yourself. And yet you're so steadfast that twenty years of doctrinal teachings hasn't claimed your being, and neither can love.

You believe in God, even in doubt. You love Lemuel deeply, but besides love, there's other things that influence your decision. This isn't a world-changing legend, nor is it a flawless love story. The protagonists in those stories can sing without hesitation. You can't, you're just an ordinary person.

You're only the son of man, after all.

"I love you," You say, "And I have to go back."

Lemuel exhales long, like a full balloon being punctured by a needle, and his anger slips through the gap. He's silent for a moment, no longer angry, his face looks sad and tired.

"Forgot what I just said, I'm sorry," Lemuel says "Enoch, do you 'want' to go back?"

Do you?

You want to go back, heed the call and see the Pope. You want to return to the place where you grew up, the robes that come and go are of your kind, the hymns lull your longing, the organ sings, the great sanctuary is bright, the silver candlesticks and crystal lamps shimmer with divine light. Your soul might still be accepted by heaven, your corpse will bring new life to others, and the end will be as bright as the promised afterlife. You long to return and face your predetermined destiny, like a fallen leaf returning to its roots.

You want to stay, hug Lemuel and tell him you're going with him. You'll get in a car and head west, across Lake Cron and across the sparsely populated Great Plains. You'll hunt hares, and he'll tell you how many forks there are in the antlers of a three-year-old buck, and in what seasons a certain wild fruit ripens. You want to walk with him, see worlds you've never seen before, and meet all kinds of people. You long to stay, to survive, to spend this life in this world of joy and sorrow.

That's what you want.

You want to go back, you want to stay, these two ideas are evenly matched. In addition to this, as the Son, you have responsibilities and obligations, His Majesty needs you, and you have to be responsible for the overall situation (those you don't know, you've never contacted with, but have been emphasized countless times by countless people. overall), a sacrifice. So weights have been added to one side of the scale, you have to go back.

"I want to... go back." Your tone is more hesitant than you thought, "For His Majesty the Pope, for the overall situation, for all mankind..."

Your teachers will be delighted, and they'll repeat these words countless times, like casting materials when casting a statue, they become one with you. Before you learned to think, the "Great Sacrifice" has become a part of you, and you can't tell whether it comes from you or the echoes of others. Lemuel lives well, he knows how to live, and you're satisfied that he can live well.

"Understood." Lemuel says flatly, letting go of you.

You need him to let go, but when it does happen, you still feel a sting. You murmur what you want to say, but found that you've already finished all the things that needed to be explained, there's no need to waste time.

"I'm leaving," You say.

"Go away," He says. "Don't look back."

You change out of your bloody vestments, washing away the blood, now you look like a well-dressed priest again. You're going in opposite directions, and you'll go your separate ways after leaving. You cannot go the same way, rather, you should help him by staying away from Lemuel. You should find the surrounding Holy See troops earlier and take them away. With no more reason to stay and no more words to say, you can only nod your head and turn around.

"I'm not as noble as you are." You hear Lemuel whisper behind you, "I love you."

You almost turn your head, you've started to turn your head, but it's not done. Before you could turn back, you feel pain in the back of your neck. Your vision darkens, and you don't know anything now.

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PastTimer: I'm sorry I wasn't able to update. I might also be unable to update tomorrow. Its a bummer because this is so close to being finished. I'll try to update this Saturday at the latest, but it may take till Monday. Until then, I'll be gone.