As the elderly man deeply savored the humid and sorrowful air lingering over the demolished city, the devastated people hunkered underneath roused themselves into movement. An Fei watched as men and women, elderly and children alike, arise from their uncomfortable positions of bleak refuge, and drag themselves towards the remnants of the nearest warehouse.
There, hissing and cursing as the soiled earth and decaying wood transferred the blithe and filthy curse onto their beaten and miserable bodies, the people began clawing at the destroyed panels of the floor, and scavenged the materials stored underneath. With their fingers, they pried out small wooden containers, dried slabs of timber, as well as blocks of stone the size of an adult human’s skull.
“You mean to say… that they shall rebuild the city within a week?”
The young girl creased her brows into an unquestionable frown as she stared at the scene of exhausted bodies roaring with vigorous cries. An Fei crossed her arms and glanced towards the elderly man standing besides her, doubt welling within her heart.
“They will die from exhaustion if they continue to ruin their bodies like so. Otherwise, the lack of water and food will consume them.”
“It is better to remain patient,” the elderly man chided with a soft voice.
“A man will become exhausted should he work with the intention of bearing the burden himself. If both the burden and work are shared amongst others, few shall perish for the work they complete.”
The young girl made no reply, but began tapping her fingers against her arms in thought.
Surrounding An Fei on all sides, the people of the city had excavated all of the preserved stone and wooden materials, and deposited them into the center of the street to congregate into a small mountain. As the young girl observed in silence and pity, a man with blood dripping from his shoulder stepped in front of the throng of people, and knelt at the base of the stone and wooden altar. Then, with a guttural howl ripping itself from his throat, a large chunk of stone was raised over the shoulder, and the man strode into the distance.
A few breaths later, the second kneeled before the altar, and picked up a bundle of cut timber with her thin and bony arms. The third was a young teenager who had yet to experience a gasp of adulthood, and the fourth was a young girl who had not reached the age of ten years. They kneeled, they bowed, and they continued to howl as the untainted rocks and timber planks were carried towards the northern edge of the street.
The piled mountain dwindled as each person made their move, and the amassed sea of people who remained trickled away with each passing breath. Soon, only the young girl and an elderly man stood before an empty clearing, their clothes whistling with sorrow and indignance. An Fei puckered her lips, and parted her lips with a cold glint flickering in her gaze.
“They do not have enough materials to build shelters to save everyone.”
“They do not need to save everyone, nor can everyone be saved.”
The elderly man gently sighed, and began walking in the direction of the bustling crowd. An Fei blinked and stood in place for a brief moment as she briefly contemplated on the meaning of his words, but hastened to follow. The young girl and elderly man waded through the sea of broken decorations, artifacts, and ruins of the city, until they had reached the northern fringe of the street.
Many who lived in the city had perished due to the winter rain, and everyone who remained alive had gathered into the clearing before her gaze. The sonorous roar and chant effused into the skies as the people of the city mindlessly labored, their backs towards the uncompassionate midday sun.
The wooden casks and barrels had been broken apart by the men, revealing mounds of smooth, powdery ash. The white powder was then brutally mixed in the pools of accumulated rain with decaying material by the women both young and old. They used wooden sticks to stir the mixture into a thorough paste, suppressing the grimaces as the curse within the rain tormented their bodies.
The paste was then applied to all sides of the stone blocks, and those who claimed to possess strength meshed the stones and timber planks in a simple, rectangular pattern to construct a set of watertight walls and floor. The sun shrouded behind a murderous flock of clouds beat firmly at their back and the corrosive paste threatened to eat at their palms, but the men and women seemed not to care as they howled and stacked the stones into an indomitable fortress.
“It is impossible to save everyone from a crisis. Those who stand before you now have lost a brother or sister, a father or mother, a wife, husband, or a friend,” the elderly man tapped the ground with a misshapen wooden stick sporting a knob akin to a crow’s beak.
“Those who have bought and amassed the stones, ash, and timber used have perished long since the winter rain. These materials are their means of salvation. Before you can save anyone, you must first lose everything.”
“Why do they strive to save others?”
An Fei narrowed her gaze, and gestured towards a nearby boy who was busy lifting the stones alongside of the men and women with stronger physiques. The child sported injury after injury that continued to bleed without stopping, yet he barely batted an eye as he continued to haul stone after stone coated with the mixed paste.
“If they had the strength and ability to save themselves, why did they instead choose to sacrifice for others? I do not understand. Why?”
“Who can truly face death with acceptance?” the elderly man retorted, unfazed by the young girl’s impassionate comment.
“Should it be a disaster that struck once, surely those with ability will dare risk everything to ensure they saw the light of tomorrow. However, the suffering brought by the winter rain repeats every year, and will not abate its destruction for a sole man’s selfishness. Who, in that case, can remain with the intent to save only themselves?”
The skies bulged with a malicious warning as the sun creeped towards the horizon with schadenfreude, and the people increased their pace of work. The stones flew and surged with unceasing rhythm that sought no rest, and the height of the walls continued to increase on all sides as sunlight gradually plunged into darkness.
The young girl and elderly man continued to stand in the same spot as they observed the people exuding an infinite vitality. An Fei ignored the pangs of hunger jabbing at the base of her stomach, and stood riveted as her mind and heart whirled in confusion. She felt as though her entire state of being had been hurled into a chaotic, squirming mess.
Her mind found itself agreeing with the withered elderly man, that when catastrophe was guaranteed to repeat itself, it was difficult for anyone to remain completely selfish and pursuant of solely themselves.
Humans loved possessing material objects and trinkets, as long as they gave a semblance of their survival. They would attempt to hoard and seize whatever gave them the joys of living, to the extent of killing their own kin without hesitation or regret. During a catastrophe, it was inevitable that those who possessed advantages would strive to ensure that it never slipped from their grasp, and would deny the chance of survival to anyone who posed a threat to that illusion.
But if the catastrophe were to repeat itself each year without any hint of receding or abating its cruel punishment and torment, even those who clung most desperately to survival and satisfaction would give up. It was pointless to constantly harm others and themselves for a hint of survival, when the process was to occur before any recovery could take place.
“However… at the threshold separating desperation and surrender…”
Humans… no, all sentient beings would morph into breathing cataclysms composed only of hatred, greed, and lust. They would struggle for the smallest hint of hope and life, surrendering only when all had ceased to exist. Friends, family, lovers, enemies, passerby – all would burn under the self-destructive, all-consuming frenzy that inevitably accomplished nothing.
She had seen their eyes, their expressions, their countenance. She remembered them clearly, as well as the invisible but all-powerful grasp perpetually resting on the back of her neck.
“You do not expect them to survive?”
The elderly man smiled and turned to face the brooding young girl. The withered eyes flickered with the vicissitudes and wisdoms of life as they peered into the dull, scarlet irises. It sought to decipher the intention wallowed within the cracks, as well as the wails suppressed underneath.
“Once burned, twice shy. You must have seen something similar, but when they ultimately failed to surmount the final hurdle,” the elderly man whispered towards the silent An Fei.
“The golden heart of humans can only shine amidst a towering sea of vile darkness. Each night, these people will show you their answer. By the end of the week, you will see whether they will fall as you have witnessed, or if they will continue to stand as they continued to have.”
As he closed his eyes, the final breath of sunlight disappeared from the clouded skies. With a soundless howl of victory and malice, the dark night swept in, and the rain began to fall.
