The kingdom of the king rises and falls alongside the human king and her fortunes. After the previous human king was taken by the Mountain Lord, the reign of the newly appeared girl-king should have been as weak and chaotic as her age.
But the reign of ‘Nuna’ was more brilliant and splendid than ever before. Voices praising the king could be heard throughout the land, and people came in droves, walking a thousand li solely to express their gratitude to her. In every field, the crops ripened plump and golden, while people gathered in groups of three or five to show off their knowledge.
It had blossomed. A brilliant civilization had finally borne fruit. The people ceased quarreling with one another for the sole reason that they served the same king. Instead, they shared and flaunted their knowledge, becoming one another’s teachers.
Songs praising ‘Nuna’ rang out in every direction, and portraits of ‘Nuna’ were put up for sale. The lands that enjoyed her grace wept tears of emotion, while humans in distant places could do nothing but suck their fingers and await the day their beloved would come to them.
It was a season in which both body and mind grew plump and abundant. It was the autumn of humanity.
“My liege. Would it not be best to leave this tent behind?”
One day, El, the Keeper of Lore, suddenly appeared and said something as outlandish as usual. The warriors who served ‘Nuna’ naturally expressed their disapproval.
“What are you talking about? The number of tents here is neither more nor less than necessary. Why leave behind something that is perfectly useful?”
“This is where one waterway and seven roads converge. If we leave the tent and set up a sign made of wooden planks, travelers will find their way more easily. People will gather and form a village, and it will become a signpost to guide someone along the right path.”
El had always been like this. Though she was always here, her eyes gazed toward places much farther away, and her lips sang of things that would happen in the distant future. Her words were absurd, but the voice of El, the Keeper of Lore, carried too much weight to simply ignore.
For it was El who had led humanity into its autumn.
If the human king was a tree bearing fruit, then the Keeper of Lore was the wind that carried pollen from pot to pot, the butterfly that pollinated the flowers, and the bird that spread the seeds far and wide.
Knowledge and wisdom spread from El’s fingertips. After becoming the head of the Keepers of Lore, El created type and printed scrolls, spreading written language so that knowledge would become something to take pride in rather than a secret. She introduced ingenious and remarkable techniques that astonished the king’s warriors and piqued ‘Nuna’s’ curiosity.
Thanks to her repeated achievements, the Keeper of Lore eventually rose to become second only to one and superior to all.
“The tent my liege leaves behind will grow into a village, and the steps my liege has taken will become humanity’s road. The marigold seeds planted here will one day become a proud nation. My liege, please.”
In the land that would one day become the capital of the Marigold Principality, El pleaded with ‘Nuna.’ Before ‘Nuna’ could even reply, the king’s warriors erupted in fury.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about! Do you know how much material and labor it takes to make even one tent? Do you mean to have our liege sleep on bare earth?”
The king’s warriors, utterly loyal to ‘Nuna,’ glared furiously at the Keeper of Lore. They were jealous of her, and had been waiting for an opportunity to teach her a lesson. Even the relatively young warriors who were favorably disposed toward the Keeper of Lore rebuked El with troubled expressions. Though the Keeper of Lore had achieved great things, asking them to leave behind the king’s tent was far too presumptuous.
Yet only one person welcomed the proposal.
‘Nuna’ said,
“Let’s do it!”
“My liege!”
The startled warriors hurriedly raised their voices, but ‘Nuna’ merely waved a hand lightly.
“It’s fine. We’ll just make another one.”
‘Nuna’ was still a beast. Some expected her to possess the authority befitting a king, but the king of beasts retained the simple nature of answering goodwill with goodwill and hostility with hostility.
The kingdom had already cast off its beginnings as a mere tribe and was becoming something far greater, but humans were still beasts. The human king, too, had not risen beyond being the king of beasts.
“El has worked hard, so I’ll work hard for her, too.”
Rather than settling the matter, ‘Nuna’s’ support of the Keeper of Lore left the king’s warriors crestfallen. They were furious and ashamed—furious at the Keeper of Lore’s insolence, and ashamed that their loyalty had gone unrewarded.
Nebida felt something similar, but before being a warrior, she had been ‘Nuna’s’ friend, and so she first tried to understand her liege’s heart.
“My liege….”
“Nebida? Why?”
“You mustn’t do this. The warriors spoke up for your sake. The Keeper of Lore’s request benefits no one, so it is right for you to repay their feelings.”
“Hm? They’re doing it for me, so I have to repay them?”
“Feelings are something exchanged between people, too.”
“Ah, like bartering?”
‘Nuna’ nodded as though she understood, but that did not mean she intended to act according to Nebida’s wishes. ‘Nuna’ told Nebida,
“I don’t want to listen to requests telling me not to do something. If I listen to that request, I’ll be stuck here, standing still and unable to move.”
“I’m worried this will trouble you, my liege.”
“It’s fine, Nebida. It doesn’t trouble me at all. It was the same when I wrote scrolls for you. I never once thought it troublesome!”
There was no emotion in ‘Nuna’s’ words. She merely whispered to Nebida in a calm voice, as though turning over an old memory.
Yet thanks to that ‘Nuna’s’ whim and mercy, Nebida, who had become a proper druid, could not lift her head for shame.
The Keeper of Lore, who had appeared out of nowhere, possessed an incomparable presence. There was nothing she did not know, and every decision she made always led to good results. Correct judgments inspired faith, and when that was repeated again and again, even doubting her became a ridiculous joke.
The word did not yet exist at the time, but had the idle and curious witnessed it, they would have claimed that it was born here.
‘Faith.’
“Keeper of Lore…! Thank you! We survived because you foresaw the flood!”
“Keeper of Lore! You found the secret buried beneath the sand! How can we ever repay this kindness?”
“Thank you so much…! The crops you gave us before are growing wonderfully! No one in this region will ever go hungry again!”
As though foreseeing the future, she drew out only the very best results. It was not as though she did anything especially extraordinary. She told passersby of the celestial omens she had read, burned incense upon discovering ruins by chance while walking along a road, and planted a tiny seed she had found somewhere.
She received praise from countless people, yet even that was merely a fraction of the many things the Keeper of Lore had accomplished.
Once, El had a tree cut down while traveling. When one of the warriors following El felled the tree in a single stroke, she split apart a live coal, tucked it inside the cleft wood, and left. After she passed, a great plume of smoke rose into the sky.
Once, El caught a butterfly resting on a flower petal. She carried it cupped in her hand as she walked for half a day, then released it in a field where white flowers bloomed in abundance. Exhausted by its involuntary journey, the butterfly staggered and settled on the nearest flower.
Once, El saw several people and had them copy a scroll. When she received the copied scroll, El tore it apart without a word and stitched the pieces into her clothes. Over the days she spent walking, fragments of the scroll dragged behind her along the road like footprints.
The Keeper of Lore would sometimes plant a pole in the ground for no apparent reason, or tightly wrap a great tree in a golden cord. On another occasion, she painted a picture with a brush onto a massive stone. Those who admired El asked what meaning these actions held.
“The small flutter of a butterfly’s wings will return as a great storm.”
No one understood the Keeper of Lore’s answer. Nor did she seem particularly interested in making them understand.
As these things continued to happen, the king’s warriors split into two factions: those who trusted and followed the Keeper of Lore, and those who were displeased with her.
Unlike the former, who had a central figure around whom they could gather, the latter had nothing but resentment. Thus, what they put forward was their loyalty to ‘Nuna.’ They claimed that ‘Nuna’ alone was the greatest being, and that the Keeper of Lore was merely someone who had depended upon her grace.
It was an argument based on principle, and no one could refute it. Those who followed the Keeper of Lore had no intention of abandoning the human king, either. Even if they had, they would not have dared voice it aloud.
Naturally, the balance of power should have tilted to one side. Yet the human king herself, ‘Nuna,’ cherished the Keeper of Lore more than anyone, and so the balance remained precarious.
“Archdruid. I have something important to say.”
Nebida had, before she knew it, come to be called the Archdruid. Her own talent was exceptional, and after receiving instruction from the human king and learning the druidic arts of the entire world through the Keeper of Lore’s knowledge, she was especially respected even among the king’s warriors.
Above all, she was a loyal subject who involved herself in neither politics nor factional disputes, caring only for ‘Nuna.’ For that reason, the fundamentalists sought to gather around Nebida.
“If that is what you intend to say, I would have rejected it long ago.”
Yet Nebida was on an entirely different level from those who dared call themselves fundamentalists.
“What my liege says is the law, and the path my liege walks is the road we must follow. Only my liege may command us. If you truly wish to serve her, then obey her will.”
A dog that means to bite does not bark, for it must save its mouth for biting. In the same way, Nebida did not shout that she was a fundamentalist. She merely glared at them, prepared to tear them apart.
Those who cloaked themselves in the title of fundamentalist fell silent before the genuine article.
“One day, the Keeper of Lore will challenge my liege’s authority.”
“The Keeper of Lore is devoted to my liege, and my liege is repaying her in kind. It is right to watch for now. If the Keeper of Lore plots treason, it will not be too late to deal with her then.”
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Nebida dismissed their concerns and continued.
“If the Keeper of Lore truly is wise, she would never dare raise a rebellion against my liege.”
The human king was strong, wise, capable, and benevolent. Even if the Keeper of Lore acted in ways no one could understand, it would all be for ‘Nuna’s’ sake.
Nebida believed that ‘Nuna’s’ affection for the Keeper of Lore was the same as the care she had once shown Nebida.
“My liege! Please avenge my grievance!”
Yet before long, that faith was put to the test.
“Those wicked men burned our village, abducted our maidens, and devoured our newborn children…! Please, kill them in the king’s name! I will offer up this life of mine!”
A subject who had walked until his feet were blistered came seeking the human king. After pouring out his blood-soaked hatred, he died.