EnCoffin Me Chapter 86
Translated by Q the Panda (ko-fi)
Chapter 86
Lucius closed the notebook he had kept in the past. Today, he had shown off with Alexio to the other camp, so looking back at the records of when he used to eat dog food didn't upset him anymore. His mad ramblings rarely appeared in the notebook anymore. Lucius noticed there were only a few pages left, and it seemed he had stopped writing at some point.
This wasn't normal. His study and documentation of Alexio should have been a lifelong endeavor.
He glanced out the window. Tonight, there was a gentle drizzle. The rosebuds in the rain nestled securely under the shelter he had built, waiting to bloom. The lights on the first floor were still on, casting a tilted glow through the living room's floor-to-ceiling window. Alexio hadn't gone to bed yet. He was probably playing with U.
He twirled his pen and browsed through many scripts people had written online. Many of the scripts were interesting. Even if they couldn't be performed in the plaza near the conservation center, they would shine at celebrations held around the world. Everything was just as it had been ten thousand years ago. The entire world seemed to rejoice for this approaching festival.
Just as Alexio had said, it was a dreamlike world.
Even he, not one for romance, found himself thinking that the hard times were truly behind them.
Maybe because someone had been thinking about him for a moment, Alexio, who was stealthily gluing star-shaped shells into a ring on the top of the cat-climbing tree, sneezed and suspiciously glanced toward the stairs, only calming when he was sure the lunatic hadn't come down. The ring he had been obsessively attaching shells to looked simple but was actually fragile. Alexio had lost sleep over it for several nights, and now it was finally complete.
He held the shimmering ring, studying it before carefully putting it away. The Carnival was still a week away. He could polish this gift a little more before giving it to the lunatic.
He looked at the hand holding the ring, paused for a moment, and curled his fingertips slightly. The tingling sensation of being tightly held seemed to linger on his hand. He began to notice how often the lunatic had touched him recently. The more he thought about it, the more suspicious he became. It seemed the lunatic was interested in him.
But what if… it was just obsession?
The third-generation prince, a vampire at the apex of the power pyramid whether ten thousand years ago or ten thousand years later, raised his hand to cover his burning cheek.
Even if it was obsession, the gift had to be given.
He thought this with a hint of stubbornness, shaking the shell ring as he began to guess how far the lunatic's memory had recovered by now.
The years of meeting at the small church? Maybe it had progressed a bit further.
Or those years when they celebrated the Carnival together? Perhaps it had gone even beyond that.
Recently, the lunatic's touches on his back had increased. Even after the lunatic had seen his wings in the northern front, the touches hadn't been this frequent… Alexio suddenly sat up from the top of the cat-climbing tree, nearly bumping his head.
He remembered now. Lucius' memory must have recovered to the time when he was injured but still went to see the lunatic at the small church. Back then, he had disagreed with Theo's decision to massacre villages and saw their ideals were fundamentally incompatible. Combined with Theo's growing subtle oppression over time, these differences eventually drove them apart. They fought fiercely. Alexio lost and had a wing torn off as he fled.
He didn't doubt that if he hadn't escaped in time, Theo would have killed him.
It was at that time, despite the risk of being discovered, that he still went to see the lunatic. It was strange. Given his poor memory, he could still remember every expression of the lunatic back then. He thought the lunatic wasn't happy either, sitting alone on a worn-out church bench, with only a slight warmth appearing in his sky-blue eyes when he saw Alexio.
The more he thought about it, the more flustered he became, even imagining that the lunatic had fancied him ten thousand years ago. Alexio felt powerless against his own wild thoughts. Holding the little ring, he quietly slipped back to his room. Passing by the lunatic's door, he hid the ring behind his back and knocked firmly.
“Go to bed early. Don't stay up late.”
That was his version of fatherly love!
“…Mm.”
With clear conscience, Alexio went to sleep. Once again, he defeated the overwhelmingly annoying lunatic (in his mind) with his unique way of thinking. However, his joy was short-lived. In the middle of the night, Alexio opened his eyes.
Damn it, the lunatic was truly relentless! He was now even appearing smaller and cuter in his dreams!
He cursed the lunatic's slyness. After a moment of hesitation, he glanced at the shell ring on his bedside table, then quickly closed his eyes.
The best revenge would be to go back into that dream and pinch the lunatic's small face. Lunatic, just wait, your dad is coming.
After pinching that face all night, Alexio felt refreshed the next morning. His gaze on the lunatic was a little strange. Lucius, of course, noticed the odd look. Without batting an eyelid, he placed a plate of fried eggs on the table and asked casually, “Did you have a good dream?”
Alexio poked at his fried egg and ate it. After burning his tongue, he covered his mouth but was still very happy.
“Mm, a good dream.”
“……?”
Lucius sat down on the other side of the table and glanced at him.
“So it really was because of a dream. I thought you were happy because you saw Pupil's announcement this morning.”
Huh? Pupil made a new announcement?
Alexio blew on his fried egg and took a bite, then opened his lightbrain with his other hand. Sure enough, Pupil's homepage was buzzing with activity. The new announcement was pinned at the top, as concise as always.
@Pupil: The tragedy ‘The Girl and the God of Death’ will be screened on Carnival day in full holographic projection. Stay tuned.
Alexio's eyes immediately widened. Heaven knew how much he loved that play! After the official fight with the lunatic ten thousand years ago, he hadn't been to the theater since. The years of war had pushed many small troupes to the brink of collapse, and performances became increasingly rare. By that count, Alexio hadn't seen this play for nearly ten years and had thought he would never get the chance again.
Who would have thought Pupil would give him such a big surprise?
He quickly shared the announcement and added a string of ‘Aaaaaah.’ He didn't have time to read the excited comments stirred up by his rare enthusiasm. Instead, he looked up at the lunatic with sparkling eyes.
“That day, we'll…”
“We'll…”
They spoke at the same time, then the lunatic laughed. Clearly, they were both thinking of going together.
“You say it.”
“We'll go watch it together that day!” Alexio slammed the table, too happy to contain himself. “I wonder where it'll be performed. Could it be in that new building they're constructing on the plaza? When I asked before, they said it was going to be a free theater. Is ‘The Girl and the God of Death’ going to be screened there too?”
“Most likely.” Lucius smiled as well. “There should be some internal tickets. I'll keep an eye out.”
Woo!
Alexio was so excited he wanted to spin around. Lucius had to hold him down to make sure he ate breakfast properly. With no other outlet for his excitement, Alexio picked up U from the floor and turned him into a fluffy ball.
U: ???
Dage? Why is Dage fluffing me like this? Has erge started slandering me again?
Fluffed and ruffled, U humbly saw the two big brothers off, then curled up on the lowest level of the cat-climbing tree. He felt the bond between Dage and erge was growing stronger, leaving him feeling unnecessary. The poor cat cried silently.
The news that ‘The Girl and the God of Death’ was going to be shown again made Alexio very happy. Even while checking on Zhen and the others' homework, his mood showed through, and he was noticeably gentler when pointing out their mistakes.
After class, all three of them grew very interested in the play that stirred Alexio's emotions so deeply. They bombarded him with questions.
“What kind of play is it?” Zhen blinked. “You said it's a tragedy, right? Can a tragedy still be that good?”
“Of course!” Alexio nodded without hesitation. He didn't mind praising the play to the skies.
“Entertainment ten thousand years ago wasn't very developed. The fact that this play remained a phenomenon for several centuries says a lot about its quality. I've lived many years, and the best troupe to perform it was the Starlight Theater Troupe. That troupe was active for about two hundred years before the Great Firestorm.”
As he began recounting the past, Zhen, Lucy, and Helgodon gathered around him.
Alexio said, “Come to think of it, I witnessed the birth of this tragedy. The play is actually based on a real story, the old tale of the princess and the dragon.” His tone grew softer. “The Holy Temple tightly controlled cultural works back then. The market was filled with pieces that glorified the light and had didactic purposes. To perform this tragedy successfully, the original story had to be hidden behind many subtle symbols.”
The Girl and the God of Death, as the title suggested, was a love story crossing races and even life and death. The God of Death was captivated by the girl's youthful energy, taking her on a journey through the three realms, witnessing countless things together. But time was ruthless. Mortals die in the end. The girl's life ran out, and she smiled gently as she passed in the God of Death's arms. The God of Death then abandoned his divine status beyond life and death and transformed into an elderberry tree by her grave. When the light rains came, white flowers would bloom, drawing nightingales that carried the story in their song.
He softly hummed a sorrowful melody.
The nightingale's tune was gentle, growing even more lonely and melancholy through the misty curtain of rain. Amid the fine drizzle, the nightingale called out to a passing bard near the girl's grave, asking him to listen to its song and carry this mournful love on his strings.
【Wandering traveler, will you hear my song, hear the story of the elderberry tree where I now stand?】
【I am no arrogant dictator, poet, you may judge for yourself.】
【If you find it dull, you may cast it aside. If it moves you, please keep it on your strings.】
“That's roughly how the lyrics go. I never memorized them carefully, so there might be some differences,” Alexio admitted. He wasn't very confident since he was just an enthusiastic viewer, but the three of them were very supportive.
“It's beautiful!” Zhen praised warmly. Helgodon nodded, and Lucy nodded along too, even singing softly with the melody as a bittersweet sadness filled her heart.
“And then?” she asked quietly. “What else did the nightingale sing?”
Alexio felt his memory was being tested, when suddenly someone nearby continued humming.
【This grave belongs to the innocent maiden Marian, who always danced, always smiled.】
【She could converse with birds and beasts, her eyes brighter than shining stars, making others suspect they had seen the embodiment of eternal youth.】
【All that is good belongs to the gods, the Bishop said. Marian should be the bride of the God of Light.】
Alexio turned his head. The saint in the white cloak was walking toward him, humming the next lines perfectly. As the soft melody drifted, Alexio felt as if he had been transported back in time — to the Carnival, inside the dark theater, sitting beside the saint. There was no conflict between them, only their hearts absorbed by the timeless tragic love unfolding on stage.
The actress on stage twirled and twirled, the lights blurring her white dress into a resplendent cloud. Beside her was the black-cloaked, faceless God of Death. The God of Death reached out, embraced the girl's waist, and danced with her. Then he knelt on one knee, declaring himself Marian's captive.
【In this world, there is someone so akin to my beloved.】
【My swan, my dream, my…】
【Destined one.】
Alexio's heart stirred. Suddenly he looked up and found the lunatic staring at him. He didn't know which line echoed in the lunatic's mind, but Alexio recognized that gaze well.
He had seen this gaze before, every time during the Carnivals ten thousand years ago, in the darkened theater, when this very aria would rise—
The hunter turned his head and fixed his gaze on him.
***
T/N: Hmm, no offense, Xixi, but this play doesn't sound that interesting? Or do you only love it because of who you were with? (•؎ •)