Prophecy

“Hah, haah...”

His breath came short. Sir Walter Raleigh, overcome by suffocation, tore open the buttons of his coat and barely managed to steady his breathing.

He could feel an overwhelming weight of existence. A tension he had never felt before—not even when he first beheld Her Majesty the Queen—ran down his spine.

“Ah... aaaah...!”

He recalled the fantasy he had been entertaining only moments ago.

He would kneel before the noble yet ignorant savage great chief and pay him respect. The chief would utter a few clumsy words of English and show curiosity about Walter Raleigh’s garments.

Raleigh would smile, brush away the great chief’s hands without giving offense, and then present him with the Bible. And he would say, “This is the spring of eternal life.”

Then the great chief would ask, “Spring?” and turn the Bible this way and that, examining it. Since he knew nothing of books, he would ponder how he was supposed to handle this strange object.

Raleigh would patiently teach him how to open the Bible, then begin reading from the very first verse.

“In the beginning... Let there be light...”

Yes. Like that.

One word at a time, one word at a time.

He would teach the blessed verses of the Gospel to one who did not know the Gospel.

As he realized how foolish that fantasy had been, his face flushed red. He gasped out the breath swelling in his chest and opened his mouth.

“Wh-what... are you? What in the world are you...!”

“Did I not tell you? I am one who sees the Lord’s light from close at hand.”

Again.

With each and every word, he felt a tremendous pressure. It was as though he were hearing the man’s voice not with his eardrums, but directly with his heart.

“Compared to the Lord, I am nothing.”

Every syllable he enunciated was translated into countless tongues familiar to Raleigh and drove itself like a nail into his ears. This—this could no longer be called mere “speech.”

“I am Nemo.”

This was the descent of the Holy Spirit.

And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. (Acts 2:2)

And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. (Acts 2:3)

And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance. (Acts 2:4)

It was the very thing described in the Acts of the Apostles.

Trembling in fear, raising eyes half-filled with tears, Walter Raleigh said,

“Could you be... the Lord?”

“Foolish words. How can one confuse the potter with the vessel?”

“Then.”

“Did I not tell you? I am one who hears the Lord’s words from close at hand, sees the Lord’s light from close at hand, and touches the hem of the Lord’s garment from close at hand.

I am Nemo.”

“Ne... mo.”

“Yes. The people of the earth call me thus.”

“...”

Only then did Raleigh feel as though something was fitting together in his mind.

Why John White had paid his respects with such caution.

Why he had, little by little, concealed and hesitated to speak of “this person’s” identity.

Tremble, tremble.

His fingertips began to shake. His whole body trembled with awe and shame.

I tried to gift him a Bible.

“If, if you are neither Satan nor the Antichrist, then surely you are an angel...!”

Good Lord, to such a being he had tried to gift a Bible! To administer baptism! To make him swear to become a subject of England!

“Are you... worried that I may be a devil? Well, I suppose that may be so.

The second beast of destruction performs great wonders, even making fire come down from heaven to earth in the sight of men, imitating the Lord’s power (Rev. 13:12-13).”

“N-no, no, that is not so. I...”

“Speak honestly.”

“...”

Walter Raleigh barely endured the fear enveloping his entire body and spoke.

“If you are Satan... then you will vanish in the name of the Lord. If not, then here, I d-dare ask for proof...”

“...”

“Yes! Though I may be foolish like Saint Thomas, who put his finger into the Lord’s side, or like Gideon, who only believed in the Lord after seeing the dry fleece, to suspect and guard against e-evil is also a virtue one of His sheep must possess...”

“You are right.”

“Nemo” nodded to him and smiled.

“Admirable. Though you have broken the seventh commandment, you are truly one who strives to serve the Lord.”

Th-the seventh commandment... if it was the seventh commandment from Exodus...

“Thou shalt not commit adultery.”

Ah.

Aaaaah...

Raleigh’s face flushed red once more. He bowed his head so deeply it nearly touched the floor.

“I-I-I have had a shameful relationship beyond words with our virgin Queen, Her Majesty...”

“Mm? That is not what I speak of.”

“Uh... pardon?”

“Your lover, Beth.”

“Pardon? How do you know of her...?”

“Though you wish to marry her, you share a bed with the Queen. That is shameful.”

How.

The being before his eyes made even the word “how” feel shameful.

...Even so, with one strand of doubt, with fear of hell, Raleigh asked,

“Th-that... is ultimately a thing of the past, is it not? That is something even the Devil could know...”

“Return.”

“...Pardon?”

“Return, and see. See the current pope die, and Ippolito Aldobrandini of San Pancrazio become the new pope.

He shall choose Mercy—Clemens—as his new name.”

“...”

An unmistakable prophecy.

No one knew whether it would prove true or not, but in any case, he spoke with firmness. That firmness sealed Raleigh’s mouth.

The death of the pope and the ascension of a new pope.

Murmuring the name Ippolito Aldobrandini of Pancrazio, Walter Raleigh barely raised himself while still on his knees.

Then the “angel” said to him,

“Fear not.”

How could this sinful man not fear the servant of the Lord?

“I have not come to punish you. The Lord has not prepared a curse for you, but glory and bliss.”

“...!”

“The Lord will raise you up and use you greatly.”

At that moment, Walter Raleigh’s hands began to tremble. The angel’s voice, which had somehow grown familiar, wrapped around his ears.

“So... serve the One and Only with faith.”

Glory.

All his life, he had pursued wealth and glory.

Not things that would be swept away in an instant by the whims of wind and waves like a drawing in the sand, but wealth and glory that would endure forever, as though engraved upon a great marble temple.

He had just been promised that.

By an angel.

...By the Lord.

“A-amen...”

That was the only word Raleigh could utter.

***

“Th-this... needle of life... pierce it into your bodies!”

John White shouted haltingly in Algonquian, which he had clumsily learned in the meantime.

“Have not all of you seen the number of your tribesmen suddenly decline of late? I ask if people have not suddenly been dropping dead?”

Murmur, murmur.

Oitotan and everyone else nodded gravely.

It was likely a problem every chief here had experienced.

Death must have come together with sudden rashes upon the body. No one would have known the reason for that death. They would merely have thought it the wrath of something inhuman.

A few clever people might have realized that those who had spent time with the people from across the sea were the first to die, but even so, there would have been nothing they could do.

“The great chief has said that if you pierce this needle into your bodies, you will suffer only for a few days and then live, and death will retreat! Hallelujah!”

At White’s emotion-choked speech, more chiefs gathered and began extending their arms one by one.

Prick. Prick. Prick.

Drops of blood welled up, and faint grimaces appeared on the warriors’ faces. Since they were people who had had tattoos engraved on their bodies anyway, they were not particularly unfamiliar with having needles brought to their skin.

Watching that scene from afar, I said to Walter Raleigh,

“Do you see?”

“I-I see. Though I cannot understand why the pus of a cow is being pierced into the arms of those sava—no, those natives...”

“In this land, countless bloodshed and injustices will flow like rivers. Millions will be slaughtered in the name of the Lord, and they will die crying out the Lord’s name in hatred.”

“...!”

The blood, tears, hatred, and stolen lives of millions.

Perhaps startled by the weight of those words, Walter Raleigh’s shoulders trembled slightly.

This was a clear truth.

Just look at how the native population, once numbering in the millions, in the tens of millions, later declined. It was not only due to epidemics, but also the result of systematic massacres and forced migration.

But this place had now become the land of the angel.

I could not allow such a thing to happen in the land of the angel.

“However, I told you I would raise you up and use you greatly, and that is so the Lord’s name may shine in this land.”

“What do you mean by making the Lord’s name shine?”

“Half of those people were fated to die of smallpox. But because of the milk cows you sent, they will now no longer suffer from smallpox.”

“...”

“And the other half of them were fated to die, stabbed by the guns and blades of those who claim to believe in the Lord. You have saved them as well.

You have certainly broken several commandments. Yet through you, a sinner, millions have been saved. This is the wondrous providence of the Lord.”

“Ah, aaah... I-I am ashamed.”

Walter Raleigh was a man who had struggled all his life for power, yet gained nothing.

He was not a member of the Queen’s Privy Council, nor could he offer the Queen advice beyond charming her with flirtations. Everyone called him the Queen’s favorite, but in truth, his influence was meager.

“I cannot know why... He would raise up and use someone as lowly as I.”

“A tool does not question why its master takes it up and uses it.”

I filled that wounded self-esteem of his.

“All men were made in His image. Though you may be a sinner, how can you deem yourself lowly?”

“...Lord Nemo, but.”

“Look.”

I gripped the shrinking Raleigh by the shoulders and made him look beyond the hill.

Thousands of people were plowing fields. Planting potatoes and wheat.

“This is the sight you made. What do you think?”

“...It is beautiful.”

“Before long, they will hear the Gospel and enter within the gates of heaven. That, too, is something you accomplished. Though you are a sinner, all those great deeds will not be washed away. You are a sinner, but your works shall remain immortal.”

“...”

I saw droplets fall from Raleigh’s eyes.

“Walter Raleigh.”

“...Yes, angel.”

“Return to London. Go, gather hundreds of people, and bring them into my embrace.”

“For what purpose?”

“So that a holy church may stand in this land.”

So that this colony could become self-sufficient.

Thousands of unskilled farmers had newly appeared. They had come under my control.

Then was this place a colony of England? Or a kingdom of the natives?

If my domain remained a kingdom of the natives...?

“One day, it will be exterminated.”

It was not only England.

The Spaniards, the more likely group of conquerors, would be watching this place greedily from Florida just to the south.

Likewise, there was France, which would stretch its ambitions toward the New World. They, too, would advance into North America within a few decades.

Establishing a single native kingdom would not be enough to survive here.

While accepting Europe’s relatively advanced culture, while being able to expand through a continual influx of population, it also had to build an independent community.

Therefore, even in order to survive, this place needed more Englishmen.

“We will gather Englishmen and establish a colony here. Through that colony, we will make the Lord’s word spread wider and deeper.”

This, too, was not a lie.

How was I to spread Christianity among them? By injuring myself and endlessly displaying miracles? Even then, they might think them wondrous signs, but they would not believe that I was an angel of Christianity.

Unless an organized religious community took root, it was extremely difficult for faith to take hold on its own. Cases where people converted on their own just from reading the Bible were rare across the world, except in Joseon.

...Yes. I had not lied to Raleigh.

Because he believed me to be an angel.

Because I am an angel, every word I say to him must be true. My words must be righteous in his eyes.

Faith and worship are not one-sided things.

The worshipper inevitably moves the one worshipped.

Suddenly, in the midst of the vaccination, I feel the gazes of John White and Manteo turning toward me.

I see the steadfast faith dwelling in their eyes. I see their certainty that I will protect them, that I will save their souls.

When I turn my gaze, that same certainty is slowly beginning to burn in Raleigh’s eyes as well.

I raise Raleigh, who is still kneeling, back to his feet and say to him once more.

“Return to England.

Go, and act.”

When I say that.

“...I shall do so at once.”

Raleigh boards the ship with a resolute expression.

Seeking other kindling to which he can spread that flame of certainty.

He goes to England.

***

“Sir Raleigh, have you heard the news? The Antichrist Pope is dead!”

“...Yes.”

The moment he returned to England, Raleigh felt his heart surge violently.

The Pope was dead.

The cardinal of the Basilica of San Pancrazio had been elected as the new Pope.

His name was Ippolito Aldobrandini. His name as Pope was...

“Clement VIII.”

Walter Raleigh felt a shudder run through his entire body.

—“He will take mercy (Clemens) as his new name.”

How... How could everything fit together so perfectly?

Even the slightest trace of doubt washed away, he immediately set to work in order to answer “His” command.

“These ones are currently afflicted with cowpox, you see. It would be better to take them once they recover...”

“No. I will take them at once.”

For a while, he gathered only dairy cows. Since cowpox was an illness that cattle caught easily and recovered from easily, he could not select only the diseased dairy cows and had no choice but to be satisfied with blindly gathering hundreds of them first.

And then... next came people.

Sir Raleigh greatly expanded the Virginia Trading Company. No, the trading company, which had yet to turn a profit even once, had already grown without any need for expansion.

“H-here! You need a blacksmith, don’t you? A blacksmith! A skilled blacksmith!”

“I heard you were recruiting bricklayers! If you choose me, I’ll cover the New World entirely in brick!”

“Here, here, don’t you need basket makers? Please... Please take us as well!”

“Now, now, calm yourselves. You miners over there, go back! The quota for miners is already full!”

“No, if they say it’s overflowing with jewels and precious metals, why are they taking so few miners?”

The first floor of the bustling Virginia Trading Company building was crowded with all manner of middle- and lower-class people applying to immigrate. But since only a very few of them were selected, disappointment and anxiety filled their eyes.

And on the second floor, relatively upper-class figures and nobles came and went.

Raleigh, who had spent the whole day screening out immigrants who lacked any particular skills, occasionally received guests to attract investment or exchange pleasantries.

However.

“...What brings a Member of Parliament here?”

“Oh, nothing. It is only that the fame of your colony grows deeper by the day... and I, too, wish to travel there.”

“...”

“...”

Today, there was a guest who had come on somewhat different business.

To be honest, the man before him was a thorn in Sir Raleigh’s side.

He was a man who had gained renown as an advisor to Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, Raleigh’s political enemy. Raleigh did not particularly welcome the sight of him gradually exerting political influence under the Queen’s favor.

But... even so, the subtle stage of politics had its rules, and one could not be openly hostile.

“...As it happens, since you have granted no one the right to sail to the Virginia Colony, it seems I have no choice but to go aboard your ship.”

“Hmm...”

“I am curious! What sort of society will unfold anew in the New World! And how majestic the figure of that great Indian emperor must be...”

“‘He’ is not someone you may mention so lightly.”

“...You speak highly of a savage, I see?”

“Hah. Do you believe a mere savage could possess such advanced technologies?”

“That may be true as well.

In any case, I wish to go too. It is not that I mean to settle there entirely, but rather that I would like to travel and look around, shall we say?”

“...”

“Would that be all right?”

Walter Raleigh stroked his chin for a while and glared at the man before him. The man did not appear to harbor any great hostility toward Sir Raleigh. It did seem possible that he truly wished to go to the New World purely out of scholarly curiosity.

...Or perhaps, as rumor had it, he was the sort to flatter those in power and was trying to change sides.

Sir Raleigh cautiously nodded toward the man before him and said,

“...Very well. I hope it proves to be a satisfying journey for you.”

“Hahahaha! Thank you, Sir Raleigh!

I shall certainly repay this favor one day!”

“Even so, do not go about spreading rumors. I will charge a steep fare, and the cabins available will not be spacious.

We already lack the space to transport steady subjects who will settle there permanently. It would be troublesome if tourists relying on their status were to flock in.”

“Understood! I shall be sure to keep it in mind!”

The man pulled his hat low, bowed his head deeply, and said,

“I, Francis Bacon, shall never forget this kindness!”

After sending the man away, Sir Raleigh sighed and leaned back against his chair.

This made the second tourist already.

Some strange actor had come begging and pleading, so he had accepted him, and now this time, a sycophant.

Raleigh looked at the calendar.

Before he knew it, it was February of 1592. That dreamlike moment of audience had already been three or four months ago.

...It had been enough time to carry out “His” command.

—“February 25, 1592: Date of departure.”

That was what was written on the calendar.

In a few days, he would set sail again.

This time, with hundreds of new settlers.

***

“I heard that Member Bacon is leaving for sightseeing... Was this something agreed upon with you, my lord?”

“No! He suddenly left of his own accord...! Haaah, that is what men like migratory birds do.

It is better this way. We need a witness.”

Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex, said irritably, stroking a dagger.

“We need a witness to tell how Sir Raleigh’s American colony collapsed.”