Acropolis 17 (The End)

Krus's mother held her daughter and comforted her again and again. Finally, the two of them fell asleep in each other's arms, and soon the entire Acropolis fell asleep.

Mi stared at the pitch-black night sky. There was no blue moon tonight. In the nearly one year she had spent in Redstone Town, Mi had noticed that every thirty days the blue moon would disappear for three days, then a new cycle would begin. The blue moon was always perfectly round, never changing. During the three days the blue moon disappeared, there was no trace of stars either, as if a curtain had completely obscured the entire sky. Mi realized once again that this was not Earth; all the knowledge she had acquired before was useless here.

Mi climbed to the rooftop. Half of the Acropolis 17 was in darkness, and the other half was illuminated. The stone fence in the middle of the city divided the two worlds; on one side was the quiet night, and on the other side, the city lord's mansion was brightly lit, where she could see people moving around and soldiers on duty.

Mi carried the basin of water to the windowsill, then took off her clothes and hung them up, quietly changing her form. A small amount of water had gathered at the bottom of the basin, and Mi reverted to her gray witch form. Taking advantage of the darkness, she arrived at the city lord's mansion she had passed during the day. The mansion was brightly lit, and behind it was the military camp, where soldiers were still practicing bayonet drills under the lamplight. A drill instructor in black leather armor shouted, "Put some force into it! Didn't we give you any meat during the day?" "Watch the angle! The back of your knees!"

Hearing the sound, Mi curled her witch form into a small ball, suppressing all external consciousness and ceasing her probing. She observed and listened intently. Mi saw rows of stone pillars in front of the soldiers, each pillar topped with a white dot about a meter above it. The soldiers gripped two-meter-long spears, ensuring each thrust hit the white dot. Mi quietly walked into the training ground. Soldiers not training were already asleep, their beds next to their spears, even the children's beds had a meter-long spear beside them.

Mi quietly left the city lord's mansion and crept up the city wall. The three-story wall stood silently in the night sky. Mi quietly walked up the city wall to the watchtower. Inside the watchtower, a small oil lamp was lit. Two soldiers, one standing and one sitting, did not speak. The standing soldier listened intently, while the sitting soldier stared at the shelf in front of him—the one that glowed during the day. Mi cautiously changed his angle and came to the outside of the shelf. A round cannon barrel rested on the wall at one end of the watchtower, with a square stone base at the bottom. The soldier sitting and observing the cannon barrel stood aside and picked up a pen to write something. After a while, the standing soldier took out a water bag from his waist, took a sip of water, and his entire face contorted in pain before returning to normal. He continued to listen intently. The sitting soldier put down his pen, picked up a water bag, took out a bowl, and poured out a small amount of water. Mi smelled a sour taste. The soldier only licked it lightly, then frowned and put the bowl down. After a while, the two repeated this action.

Mi was pondering how to sneak a sip of the water in the bowl when the two weren't looking when she heard light footsteps. Two more people entered, quietly gesturing to switch places with the two already in the room.

Mi followed the two laid-off workers. The two walked to a small house far from the city gate, lit a lamp, and one of them brought out a pot of water from the room and poured two bowls. He handed one to his companion and said, "Quickly rinse your mouth. The taste of this 'wake-up tea' is really unpalatable."

"You mustn't drink alcohol." The other person picked up the bowl, smelled it, and then drank the water in the bowl.

“I know.” The man put down the kettle and took out two bowls from the cabinet. “Here, have something to eat. We have to change shifts later.”

"No, I'll take a nap first." The other man lay down on the bed fully clothed.

Mi waited quietly. About an hour later, someone gently knocked on the door. The two men got up, took another sip of water from their waist pouches, grimaced, and walked up to the city wall to relieve the two men who had replaced them earlier.

Mi followed the two back to the tower. She glanced at the resolute figures standing atop the watchtower, as firm as a mountain, and quietly moved in front of the cannon. Inside the circular cannon, two rows of small trays, like bases, extended out, each hanging a small, round fish. Upon closer inspection, each fish had a small ball in its mouth.

What is this? Mi carefully crawled into the cannon barrel. It was more like a sophisticated, secret chamber. The small fish were suspended motionless in the air by several extremely fine threads. Mi reached out and gently touched one of the fish. The fish was startled, and the small ball in its mouth fell out and hit the base with a crisp "clink." The soldier who was writing quickly put down his pen and walked towards the cannon barrel, saying to the soldier standing there, "Fish number thirteen has lost bait, southwest, 120 li away." The soldier scratched his head after speaking, "How come only one bait was lost? That shouldn't be the case. You keep an eye on it, I'll go check on the other side."

Mi was regretting accidentally knocking the bead out of the little fish's mouth when she saw the soldier nervously running to the other side. She followed him to the opposite watchtower, where the little fish hung quietly, not a single bead falling. This time, Mi dared not touch anything. She quietly followed behind the soldier, watching him pick up a wooden slip, make a couple of smears on it, and then have the soldier on duty downstairs deliver it to the city lord's mansion. The two soldiers looked serious, staring into the darkness in the distance, their fists clenched. Mi suddenly realized she might have touched something she shouldn't have.

Mi followed the messenger into the city lord's mansion. The city lord was none other than Arlo, the middle-aged man who had observed Mi from the corner tower earlier that day. The wooden slip was quickly delivered to the city lord, who glanced at it and immediately led his men up to the mansion's watchtower. On the tower was an identical device, inside which two rows of small fish hung quietly, as if proclaiming "nothing has happened." Following behind the city lord was Lev, the clerk who had stamped Mi's seal earlier that day.

“Sir,” Lev said, looking at the wooden tablet, “should we issue a warning?”

"How many times has this been activated?" Arlo asked, looking at the small fish suspended in mid-air.

“The third time, but the only time, there was only one alarm.” Lev hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Could the observation detector be broken? Or did that adventurer come by?”

“The array detectors have never missed a beat,” Arlo waved his hand. “Sound an alarm; a false alarm is better than being unprepared. If someone deliberately tampered with it,” Lord Arlo stared at the windowsill, “sound it; it’s good for her to see.”

Mi lingered in the dark corner under the window, feeling that the city lord could see her. Before she could turn around, a piercing alarm blared throughout the entire 17th Guard City. Lights came on in every house. Mi rushed back to Krus's house, and just as she put on her coat, the door was kicked open. Krus's mother rushed up, grabbed Mi, and dragged her away. Mi was shoved into a cramped underground space resembling an air-raid shelter, filled almost entirely with children and women, and babies being held in their arms. Even the babies didn't cry. The air in the shelter was almost still. Except for the mothers holding their children, all the other women turned and left, leaving Mi alone with the children.

Krus's mother shoved Mi next to her daughter and left without a word. Krus's little sister glanced at the frail Mi, reached out and pulled her behind her, shook her head at Mi, and put a finger to her lips to silence her. Mi nodded, surveying the cramped space. It was a secret chamber deep underground. Mi had followed Krus's mother down a long flight of stairs, now blocked by a door. A small oil lamp shone from the ceiling. In the dimly lit chamber, people were huddled together, heads pressed together, and apart from the sound of breathing, nothing else could be heard. Mi could hear the pounding of hearts, faster and faster. Many small, colorful lights flickered wildly in the room—fearful, calm, tense, ignorant, excited…

The woman holding the child gently patted the baby in her arms. The child opened its eyes, looked at the baby for a moment, and then closed them again. A little girl of about seven or eight years old trembled slightly, her eyes filled with fear. Someone let out a soft sob, and soon an older child hugged her, covering her mouth to stifle the sobs. Mi looked at these eyes, some calm, some fearful, some ignorant, and some confused, wondering what was really happening outside.

After an unknown amount of time, the alarm was lifted only when the child in her arms had yawned and fallen asleep. First came the sound of a door creaking open on the steps, then the sound of footsteps going down the stairs, and finally the door to the stone chamber that had been closed was opened, and two tired women called to the children, "Let's go home."

The woman nudged the child beside her who was dozing off. One by one, the children walked out in silence until the first child reached the street and stared wide-eyed for a while before saying, "Mommy, Mommy, look! The Shali people haven't entered the city."

One by one, the children went out. The woman carrying the baby was the last to walk onto the street. Seeing that the street was no different from usual, her eyes filled with tears. She murmured, "The Shali people didn't come. Ah, no Shali people are here. It's good, it's good." The weeping woman hugged her child and collapsed to the ground.

Mi followed the flow of people out. Torches lit up the streets, and adult men, armed with machetes and spears, lined up all the way to the city gate. Thick ropes, each as thick as an arm, were strung across the wide road. Mi finally understood why there were stone pillars spaced close together on either side of the road—they were used to trip horses, or rather, to trip people from the sand. There were also women on the street; some were counting the children who had come out of the basement. The children, once their names were called, didn't make a fuss and obediently went home. Other women were untying the thick ropes. Mi went to help. The ropes were cold and heavy, soaked in water. Mi untied the ropes from the stone pillars and dragged them to the side of the road. Mother Krus was stacking coils of rope onto a wooden stick. The coiled ropes were either carried by two people or by one person on their shoulder to the nearby storehouse. Squads of soldiers marched back from the city gate. Everyone worked silently. Mi watched the chaotic yet orderly scene and finally truly understood the life of the Acropolis people, who never knew when war would come and were always in preparation.

Lord Arlo watched the soldiers gather and disperse at the city gate, while Lev and a few others took notes. "Second squad, fifth squad, extra training tomorrow. Eighth squad, tenth squad, twelfth squad, and eighteenth and nineteenth squads—these fifty men—will be sent to the Eighteenth Citadel tomorrow." Arlo's orders came one after another.

“Sending fifty men at once—” Lev glanced at the city lord’s face, “will leave us short of security.”

"Send her away. Liz has taken care of a small squad of Shari at the border. If we don't send her away, we won't get the military merit back." The city lord turned his head and looked at the busy crowd in the citadel from afar. He saw Mi standing alone on the street, out of place among the crowd, and ordered, "Let her go tomorrow."