Part 2 The Faceless Man Chapter 269 – Resigning the Old and Welcoming the New
On the morning of December 31st, Bridge South, Harvest Church.
Emlyn White, dressed in his clerical robes, stood in the kitchen, throwing different herbs into a large iron pot from time to time, supplemented by a certain amount of stirring.
When all the ingredients prepared in advance had been placed, he waited patiently for another ten minutes before scooping up the inky black liquid inside with an iron spoon and filling it into separate glass bottles and glasses nearby.
48,49,50 …… Emlyn glanced at the empty iron pot and counted up the concocted potions.
After confirming the quantity, he picked up the large tray and delivered the bottles of dark green liquid to the hall.
Inside the hall, the prayer seats were mostly removed, and the floor was covered with a tattered comforter in which plague-infected people who were either sleeping or moaning in pain lay.
Emlyn and Father Utravski worked together, each carrying a portion of the potion and beginning to distribute it from both directions.
The first in line was a middle-aged man with a waxy face, who was busy half-supporting himself as he took the potion and gulped it down.
Handing back the bottle, he gratefully addressed Emlyn:
”Father Wyatt, thank you so much, I feel so much better and have some strength again!”
Emlyn raises his chin and replies dismissively:
”It’s just a very small thing, not something to be thanked for, you guys are so uninformed.”
After saying that, he accelerated the speed of distributing the potion.
After ten minutes or so, he returned to the altar of Mother Earth and complained to Father Utravski:
”You should have gotten two more volunteers!”
Without responding, Fr. Utrafsky looked at the patients and smiled gently:
”Another two or three days and they should be cured.”
”How do you know?” Emlyn looked sideways in surprise.
Father Utravski lowered his head with a kind face and looked at him, saying:
”Herbs are supposed to be one of the Mother Goddess’ domains, and as a follower of K, even though it’s not within the pathway of the ‘earth’, it’s still important to know basic common sense.”
Emlyn tsked:
”I’m not interested enough in religion to know much about it.”
Though I’ve often copied Mother Earth’s holy texts in recent months …… He added in his mind with slight indignation, and said casually:
”Father, I didn’t think you’d take in heretics, only two or three of them are followers of the Mother Goddess.”
Father Utravski laughed unconcernedly:
”They are lives all the same, innocent lives.”
Emlyn froze for a few seconds, exhaled, and turned:
”Father, I’ve found a solution to the mental suggestion and may be out of here soon.”
Wait, why did I mention this? I can’t believe I was touched by him for a second, what if he locks me in the basement again? Emlyn was suddenly nervous.
Father Utravski’s expression didn’t change and looked down at Emlyn and said:
”In fact, you don’t need to look for a way to do this, with some more time, the psychological suggestion will be lifted naturally, and you can freely choose whether or not to come to church.”
”Another period of time, and I’ll be a devout follower of Mother Goddess, no, Mother Earth Goddess!” Emlyn blurted out.
Father Utravski moved his eyebrows, slightly surprised:
”I did not force you to convert.
”The psychological hints I left were only to bring you back to church every day, in the hope that you would use them to fully appreciate the preciousness of life and the joy of the harvest.”
”So the only thing the mental hints do is get me back to church?” Emlyn’s expression froze for a moment.
Father Utravski nodded frankly:
”Yes.”
”……” Emlyn’s mouth was half-open, and with slow, mechanical movements he looked back toward the altar, toward the life-giving emblem of Mother Earth, as if he had been transformed into a mannequin for a moment.
……
December 31, evening, 2 Daffodil Street, Tingen.
Benson enters the house, chuckling as he removes his hat and takes off his coat:
”I’ve booked a steam train ticket to Birkeland for January 3, second class.”
Melissa, who was sitting in the dining room with several newspapers spread out in front of her, said with slight apprehension:
”Benson, the air in Birkeland is so bad that tens of thousands of people died only a few days ago due to poisoning and disease caused by the great haze ……”
”It is a matter of regret and sorrow.” Benson sighed as he walked towards the dining room, “But the Upper and Lower Houses have already passed the report of the Air Pollution Inquiry Commission, and there will soon be appropriate legislation to regulate the emission of smog and wastewater, and we will be greeted by a new Baker’s Landing, so you don’t need to worry too much.”
At this he sneered:
”When I was returning from Iron Cross just now, I found quite a number of factory owners or their employees from Birkeland recruiting there, talking about how the factories there are understaffed because of the smog and plague, so they’re willing to commit to working hours and a minimum pay that would be quite a bit better than what passes for it now, huh?”
”You don’t think that’s going to happen?” Melissa asked sharply in return.
”As more and more people flock to Bakerland, that’s destined to be impossible to fulfill, unless both the upper and lower houses can pass appropriate bills making direct provisions.” Benson spread his hands and pointed to the table, “Well, it’s time for us to ring in the New Year.”
The table was set with three sets of knives and forks, three empty china plates, and three glasses.
Of the three mugs, one was beer and two were ginger beer.
……
December 31st, evening.
A dressed-up Audrey stood in the lounge, waiting for the New Year’s Eve party to begin, but the excitement, thrill, and joy of an impending bar mitzvah could not be discerned in her expression.
In front of her lay a newspaper that read:
”…… According to preliminary statistics, a total of more than 21,000 people died directly in that foggy haze, and the subsequent spread of the plague took away nearly 40,000 people one after another, including many young children and robust young men and women …… ”
Whew, Audrey couldn’t help but close her eyes.
Just then, her father, the Earl of Hall, and her mother, Lady Caitlin, knocked on the door and came in, praising in the same breath:
”You are more beautiful than anyone else tonight, baby, it’s time to go out, the Queen is waiting for you.”
Audrey exhaled slowly and blossomed into a graceful, bright smile as she made her way out of the lounge and into the gala hall, accompanied by her father and mother.
She made her way up to the high stage at the very front, and handed her elbow-high white gloved hand to the Queen in front of a crowd of awestruck gazers.
The Queen took her hand and walked to the edge of the stage to face all the guests.
After a brief pause, the Queen smiled:
”Though this is a dark time in the history of Berkland, we still have a jewel that is bright enough to light up the entire city, her intelligence, her beauty, her character, her manners, all impeccable.
”Today, I present her to you formally.
”Miss Audrey Hall.”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, fireworks rose into the air, exploding into one fantastic light after another.
On the evening of the last day of 1349, Audrey officially came of age in a social sense.
……
January 3, 1350, afternoon.
On the outskirts of the East End, in a newly opened cemetery.
Using divination, Klein finds the grave of mother and daughter Kohler Sr. and Liv.
It wasn’t really a grave in the sense of a grave, but rather a cabinet for storing urns, one after the other, row after row, overlapping and overlapping.
Crane stood there and saw that not only was there no last picture or epitaph on the old Kohler’s cabinet, but even his name was missing.
A similar situation was not uncommon; there were far, far too many unclaimed ashes here where relatives and friends could not be found; what they had been called before, what they had looked like, what they had been through, no one knew and no one was interested; only the numbers on the cabinets could distinguish them.
Klein closed his eyes, drew out a Post-it note, shook it into a piece of iron, and etched a word into the cabinet door:
”Kohler.”
Then he added the line of epitaph:
”He was a good worker, he had a wife and a couple of children at one time, and he tried to live.”
Retracting his wrist and shaking it off, the dark-haired, brown-pupil-faced Klein let the paper burn in his hand, as if honoring all the souls here.
Instead of stepping in directly to help Daisy, who had lost her mother and sister, he had written an anonymous letter to Reporter Mike Joseph, detailing the young girl’s plight, lest he implicate the other in his own affairs.
Reporter Mike had met Daisy, knew about her affairs, and enthusiastically pushed for the establishment of the appropriate charitable fund, so Klein believed that he would help Daisy secure more relief, so that she could complete her basic education and find a stable job that was sufficient to support herself.
Taking two steps back, Klein looked around the room, taking in the victims of this place who only had names and pictures, and not even those.
He raised his head, exhaled a slow white breath, and turned his body away from the cemetery.
On the steam train to Birkeland, Melissa concentrated on her textbook while Benson quickly chatted with the passengers around him.
”It’s too expensive, too expensive, a whole ten soules, half a pound!” A burly man of less than thirty sighed from the bottom of his heart, “I wouldn’t have spent that at all if I hadn’t been unable to get a third-class seat or a ticket on the ship lately; it’s equal to most of my week’s pay!”
”Indeed, there are far too many people traveling to Birkeland after the New Year.” Benson concurred.
The burly man put away his heartbroken expression and said expectantly:
”Because they promised 21 sousl a week, promised to work up to and including 12 hours a day, and we signed a contract!
”When I’ve rented the house and got my first paycheck, I’ll get my wife to come to Birkeland as well, she should be able to find good work as well, 12 or 13 Soules a week kind of thing, and Birkeland is rumored to be very short of people! And then, ah, we’ll have more than a pound and a half a week together, and can eat meat often!”
”Your wish is sure to be granted; the King has signed an order allowing the act prescribing the minimum pay and hours of work to come into operation.” Benson gave a heartfelt blessing and whirled around to laugh, “It’s the ‘land of hope’ there.”
Woo!
The steam train arrived at Birkeland with countless hopeful people, when it was still light, and the mist in mid-air had thinned considerably, and the gas lamps hanging above the platform were no longer lit early.
Benson, experienced in guarding his sister and his money-clip, carried his suitcase, and, following the crowd, walked out of the station.
Suddenly, they felt a line of sight sweep over them at the same time.
Following the trail, Benson and Melissa saw a young gentleman with neat black hair and dark brown eyes.
The gentleman wearing gold-rimmed glasses clicked his bowler hat, and his gaze crossed over to them, casting into the distance.
Benson and Melissa also withdrew their eyes and looked toward the smoke-spewing columns in the street garden, looking forward to seeing Bakerland’s underground transportation.
Klein, carrying his suitcase, passed them with a straight face and a straight face, and entered the departure station in front of a huge crowd of people pouring into the “Land of Hope”, people with good expectations in their apprehensions.
It was the worst of times, it was the best of times.
(End of Part 2)