Chapter 181 “History, Pollution, and the Black Sun”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
On the “Chronology Pillar,” a mysterious inscription suddenly appeared. It spoke of an unknown city-state, undocumented battles, and hidden sacrifices. This inscription revealed a history seemingly erased from collective memory. After the decline of this city-state, the only evidence of its existence was this vague inscription on the pillar.
Even this brief inscription might have come at a tremendous cost, possibly the lives of countless Flame Bearers, the dedicated guardians of history, to ensure this fragment of history was preserved for the current world.
Hearing this revelation from Morris, Duncan was momentarily taken aback before becoming deeply introspective.
He was somewhat familiar with the Flame Bearers Church. When Duncan learned of the “Four Deities Faith” prevalent in this world, he was intrigued by these powerful gods who significantly influenced mortal lives. Morris had previously given him a book that explored the principles of the Four Deities Church. Consequently, Duncan familiarized himself with the doctrines of each of the four primary gods. Among these religious sects, the Flame Bearers stood out as particularly distinct.
At the core of the Flame Bearers’ doctrine is a belief system that sharply contrasts with that of the followers of the other three deities. While the devotees of the other three gods champion more tangible concepts like storms, wisdom, and mortality, the Flame Bearers’ allegiance is to the abstract idea of “history.”
History, according to the Flame Bearers, is the living memory of a civilization, passed down from one generation to the next, like a torch in a relay. This tenet is central to their belief. They view the inception of civilization as marked by the ignition of the “fire,” a symbol they believe has persisted to modern times. The Flame Bearers see numerous dangers in the world that seek to alter or obliterate this torch’s journey. Their solemn duty is to combat these threats and safeguard the unbroken transmission of the flame of civilization.
The Flame Bearers revere the “Everlasting Flame” Ta Ruijin, a colossal being said to have been present at civilization’s inception. It is widely believed among them that Ta Ruijin protects the inaugural fire lit by humans, having assimilated this fire into himself. He interprets the true path of history by observing the dance of flames, recording these events onto his body. As human civilization evolves and expands, this gargantuan entity continues to grow. They believe that when Ta Ruijin reaches his ultimate size, the entirety of human civilization will be secure, with no force capable of jeopardizing the accurate recording and continuation of history. They believe that not even the vastness of subspace can extinguish the flame of civilization.
Duncan recalled this narrative from the book Morris had shared, recognizing it as a pivotal section in the Flame Bearers’ sacred text, the “Torch Bible.”
In Duncan’s view, the latter part of these descriptions could just be symbolic, possibly a motivational tale spun by the church to inspire its followers. The veracity of such tales remains debatable. However, he firmly believes in the Flame Bearers’ dedication to preserving history.
History is vulnerable to distortions but can also be safeguarded, and this relationship is reciprocal.
“…They’ve had experience with such endeavors in the past…” Duncan murmured, deep in thought.
Morris, overhearing the faint comment, queried with a look of confusion, “What did you just say? What have they done before? Could you clarify…”
Duncan, raising a hand slightly to quiet him, replied gently, “It’s nothing, Morris. I was merely thinking out loud.” He then fixed his gaze intently on the older man, adding, “The details you’ve provided are of great significance.”
Morris, still puzzled, said, “The details I shared? Do you mean the third account I spoke of? The inscriptions that materialized on the Flame Bearers pillar?”
With a subtle nod, Duncan’s expression grew more intense. “However, there’s something nagging at me. Does the Black Sun have the capability to manipulate history?”
Morris hesitated, visibly taken aback by the gravity of the question. “I’m primarily a historian, so the intricacies of the Black Sun are slightly beyond my realm. But as far as I’m aware, the Black Sun shouldn’t theoretically have such influence…”
Duncan weighed Morris’s answer, nodding thoughtfully. On the other hand, Morris began to grow uncomfortable, sensing a looming presence akin to a “subspace shadow” around Duncan.
Throughout their interactions, Duncan had always displayed politeness and patience, discussing historical nuances and probing deeper with insightful inquiries. The ambiance felt similar to Morris’s past visits to quaint antique shops. Yet, intermittent flashes and sounds in Morris’s consciousness served as stark reminders of the potential danger lurking beneath the surface, like standing on the cusp of a vast chasm.
Why was Duncan, this apparent “subspace entity,” so intrigued by the Flame Bearers and the dynamics of history’s preservation and corruption?
What ulterior motives might he have?
Could the god of wisdom, Lahem, have directed Morris to converse with Duncan to gather intelligence on this cryptic matter?
How did this entity from subspace relate to the god of wisdom?
Was there an underlying competition?
Was Morris unintentionally becoming a pawn in a celestial strategy overseen by deities?
Was he unknowingly acting as Lahem’s eyes and ears?
These questions created a storm of speculation in Morris’s mind, heightening his wariness. Recognizing the significant “part” he might be playing, Morris felt an invigorated sense of purpose. It was as though Lahem himself was standing beside him, studying Duncan through Morris’s own perspective.
Caught in this internal maelstrom, Morris was brought back to the present by Duncan’s voice. Duncan spoke with a mix of intrigue and bewilderment, “Considering the turmoil these ‘Suntists’ have instigated, it’s astonishing they continue their endeavors. Haven’t the commonfolk of the various city-states ever contemplated putting an end to their madness once and for all?”
“Extinguishing a heretical cult is an immensely challenging endeavor,” Morris began, roused from his introspection. He shook his head with a sense of resigned inevitability. “The ideologies of these heretics infiltrate society in a manner reminiscent of how mercury spreads its toxic influence, permeating every conceivable nook and cranny. Regardless of how many followers you suppress or exterminate, fresh believers invariably spring forth. The root cause is the ‘divine beings’ these heretics venerate. As long as the associated malevolent deity thrives, the seduction and indoctrination of humans will perpetually persist. Imagine if every mature individual in a city-state was annihilated, leaving only naive infants. Even these innocent souls would not be immune, their malleable minds vulnerable to malefic influence…”
Morris let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head in sorrow, “There are individuals who uphold moral lives, dedicating themselves to righteousness and integrity. But due to a singular lapse in judgment during adversity, a transient doubt amid trepidation, or accidental exposure to prohibited lore, they can swiftly morph into heretical instruments. Their thoughts become saturated with forbidden wisdom, leading them to embrace the shadowy attire of a sinister deity’s disciple. How can one possibly eradicate such deeply rooted taint?”
His eyes then shifted to Duncan, casting an inscrutable gaze.
Caught off guard, Duncan inquired, “Why are you scrutinizing me in such a manner?”
Morris hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “Forgive me for making assumptions, but given your unique nature… shouldn’t you be rather conversant with this vision of mortals succumbing to corruption?”
Duncan took a moment to process Morris’s implication. Upon comprehension, a look of mild annoyance crossed his face, “I steer clear of such malevolent practices. I abide by the rules of the land. Whenever I encounter heretical worshippers, I promptly inform the relevant authorities.”
Morris blinked, taken aback, with a myriad of questions surging in his mind but holding them in check.
Sensing the deviation in their conversation, Duncan swiftly steered it back on track, “I comprehend your perspective. The mortal realm’s devotees of the dark gods merely manifest the ‘outward symptoms.’ The principal issue is the seemingly unassailable malevolent deity itself. As a result, their impact consistently yields successive generations of followers. Even after millennia of relentless confrontation, the guardians remain incapable of wholly obliterating this menace. But is the Black Sun’s influence truly so indomitable? From my encounters, it appears severely debilitated, scarcely possessing the vigor to intervene in mortal affairs. Merely conversing with me seems to sap its vitality. Can such a weakened deity truly wreak havoc upon the world?”
Morris’s voice trembled, “The Black Sun’s diminished state may appear so to your discerning eyes. But to us mere mortals… we’re exceedingly susceptible…”
A peculiar emotion surged within Duncan. He had the urge to reassure Morris, “I, too, am human; don’t I bear the likeness of one in your eyes?” but for Morris’s peace of mind, he refrained from voicing those sentiments.
After expressing his innermost concerns, a sudden insight appeared to strike Morris. He took a moment, collecting his thoughts before elaborating, “Your doubts, however, might be zeroing in on the heart of the matter. If the Black Sun is as weakened and debilitated as you’ve described, its pervasive influence in the realm of mortals should, by logic, be considerably diminished. And given this, the Suntists shouldn’t be wielding as much power and influence as they currently do… This brings me to surmise that the key may lie with those mysterious entities known as the ‘sun offspring.'”
Pondering upon the term “sun offspring,” Duncan found himself instinctively reminiscing about a towering, svelte shadow that had manifested in Shirley’s dream some time ago.
Even in the absence of definitive proof, a powerful intuition told him that this spectral figure might indeed be one of the fabled “sun offspring.”
While the Black Sun itself may be on the brink of extinction, devoid of the energy to illuminate the world, its descendants persist. These offsprings have acted as emissaries, preserving and propagating the Black Sun’s malevolent legacy. Their resilience has ensured the Suntists’ survival, with their influence and menace ever-intensifying.
Yet, an enigma still gnaws at Duncan’s mind: Neither the waning Black Sun nor its progeny seemingly possess the capacity to manipulate or alter history.
However, within the early chronicles of emerging city-states, a message originating from the lost city made a perplexing assertion: the “Black Sun emerged from the tapestry of history.” Moreover, the contemporary city-state of Pland displays evident markers of historical distortion. What, or who, could be orchestrating this subversion?
Is it conceivable that there’s an unseen force or ally, striving to breathe life back into the Black Sun, resurrecting it from the pages of history?
inb4 Duncan ends up being worshiped by the Flame Bearers.
Giant? Check – at least his subspace form is.
Flame? Check – it’s basically his signature move so far.
Guarding history? Check – He’s doing it for Pland right now.
Moreover… if his memory of ‘the real world’ is from a time before Crete, then he’s probably actually older than history and Vision 001, at least in some way.
On top of that, one of the rules of the Vanished is ‘whatever the Captain says is correct’. And it’s not just a ‘if you disagree he’ll get mad’, but as we saw with the fishing stunt, reality will literally bend to his will. That sounds rather similar to ‘historical pollution’ to me.
Well, I’m probably wrong, but I do think the parallels are interesting.
Very similar to my train of thought, but still a bit different.
The key, I think, is the title he was given: “Usurper of the flame,” although that’s probably also partially connected to his guardianship of the incarnation of the sun fragment/ person probably originally intended to become a new sun heir. Duncan’s ghost flames are the game breaker between a long struggle between the false and true flames: truth and falsehood depend on his whim, so all flame falls within his domain, lol. He won’t be the orthodox suntist faction, but he can very likely forcefully pollute many followers into converting, which is faster and less damaging than killing them, probably.
Nonsense, what am I thinking! If you view Duncan as a god, with which he probably shares a similar nature, then his domain would be… Well, you can make an argument that he infringes on all the divine domains, in which case he’s more of an overgod, but he definitely has close ties to “death/undeath” and “flame.” Ghost flames do not hurt the undead they attach to. The black sun, a victim and a burning corpse, sought his help.
Screw converting some believers, subordinate the whole damn false god, lol.
Suntists may not have the ability to pollute history, but… They make a good partner, if they can blind the eyes of the flamebearers.
The Black Sun is uncanny in resemblance to the Eternal Flame, enough that they may even be a very different manifestation of the duality of the gods. Giant of flame. The first flame lit by mortals, and to a degree the title of eternal, echoes the mortality of the corpse beholder. The domain of the Eternal Flame is to uncover and record truth in history, it’s a domain of insight. One half of the black sun is flame, and the other an eye. An eternally unseeing eye. I can’t remember the suntist segments well enough to pull out any evidence from the text, but their primary domain is probably “obfuscation,” with a minor in sacrifice. Although history is not the playing field, the stated goal of “revival” is still one that seeks to upend causality… Maybe, they want to bring the version that’s dead and burning into reality even though they’re calling it revival, I think.
Another uncertain piece that feels related is the vision that classifies visions. I actually commented before that even a prophecy about the weather is significant, because the prophecies having the nature of being absolutely true is like driving nails, fixed points, into future history. The fabric may warp, but only within the bounds of maintaining those truths. In some ways it also seems like a counterpart to the flamebearer domain, but the reflection is on the axis of the past and future instead.
I’m curious to see the details of how it pans out, but I’m at least pretty confident about the suntists being used to hide a still unstable split in history.
with a minor in sacrifice.
Really made me lol
The usage of the name Charon for a city and the first one the Black Sun Cultists destroyed is very interesting. Charon guides souls across the river Lethe, which makes one forget all of their past…