Act Four: Under the Mask (Part Ten)
ten
The two walked together to the church. Yakov no longer wore his helmet, but held it to his chest. This allowed his face to receive the sunlight. The Slav's mood was like a bird in flight, sometimes joyful and light, sometimes anxious and uneasy, as if he had shed one shell only to find another underneath. The vampire walking beside him, however, was completely oblivious. "The sun is terrible today," Yubi said. "If I took off my ring, I'd be as sunburned as Henry in no time."
Yakov thought he was ultimately grateful to Henry. True kindness and honesty always arrive late, just before death, yet they bring blessings to many. But in moments of such joy, he couldn't help but remind himself not to become complacent, lest he fall and be shattered. Yakov thought, this identity was stolen; it didn't truly belong to him. He carried many more secrets.
However, as soon as the two entered the church, everyone greeted Yakov and offered their blessings, seemingly unbothered by his Slavic appearance or his drunken revelry. Even the large, silver tabby cat rubbed against his iron shoes, urging Yubi to crouch down and enthusiastically pet it. This overly warm scene made the Slavic man feel out of place. Pascal was walking in from the doorway, his eyes dark and his hair frizzy—Yakov thought he must look almost exactly like him now.
“This may be the most worthwhile hangover of my life,” Pascal said. “Strong liquor can make a man unrestrained and savage, and it can also pull a fine knight out of his cage.”
“I have to thank Henry for this.” Yakov wasn’t quite used to being stared at like that, so he kept a straight face. “...Thank you too.”
“That’s wonderful! Thank you too, Pascal!” Yubi seemed about to jump for joy, but he restrained himself and performed the aristocratic etiquette with elegance and grace. “Have you seen Schumeer? I really want to tell him this good news right away!”
“You mean the servant?” Pascal scratched his head. “I didn’t see him… I thought he was with you.”
“Perhaps he went to the library, or maybe he went to the cellar to find art supplies.” Yubi looked up at Yakov, his eyes crinkling with laughter. “Let’s go find him!”
He led Yakov by the hand, talking incessantly about what he and Schumer had done these past few days—only then did Yakov notice that not only the church, but the entire small monastery was decorated with a Christmas atmosphere. Green holly leaves hung on the walls, and candles for the vigil were placed in every room. Yubi even took the bells from their bags and hung them on the door, so they would jingle whenever someone passed by—"...I know these aren't from the monastery; we'll take them back after we leave," Yubi explained. "I also learned the recipe for Mass incense, which Sister Gianda taught me. The book says that when Jesus was born, people offered aloeswood, frankincense, and myrrh, representing nobility, suffering, and mission."
"Maybe in a couple of days he'll be able to recite the Bible stories backwards," Yakov thought with discontent. "Don't believe this nonsense," he whispered a warning. "It's fake. There is no God or savior in this world."
“…I know.” Yubi lowered her head in thought. “People who believe in stories become kinder and more approachable, full of love and trust, because of falsehoods. So whether it’s false or not isn’t that important, is it?”
“They will pay the price for their blind faith one day,” Yakov said. “People can be kind and amiable because of false stories, but they can also be cruel and vicious because of false stories. Can this be called true love and trust?”
"...But Schumacher once said that believing in God or not believing in God is a choice."
“What if this choice is unavoidable?” Yakov’s tone was strangely stern. “And how do you know what people truly feel when they talk about love and trust?”
Yubi stopped speaking and began to ponder the meaning of those words. They silently searched the corridor. The library, the storeroom, the kitchen, the fields—they asked the nuns and soldiers everywhere, but to no avail. "...Where is he?" Yubi pinched his nose and opened the latrine door; the dilapidated, cold shack was empty. "Why hasn't anyone seen him anywhere?"
A series of terrible thoughts rose in Yakov's mind, making his heart pound heavily. He frowned, turned his head, and looked at the stable beside him. Many horses were resting there, some belonging to them, some to the Knights Hospitaller, and some to the monastery. In the corner, the female donkey named Muse sat quietly, watching Yakov, her ears twitching. Beside her, brand-new paints and supplies were neatly arranged in specially made bags against the wall. Yesterday's heavy snow had covered the area around the stable with a uniform layer of silver, which was melting dirtyly under the bright sunlight. There were messy footprints there, overlapping and difficult to distinguish, but several of them crossed the fence, heading straight out of the monastery and into the forest.
Shamefully and suspiciously, Yakov's first instinct was to check his purse. He unbuttoned it, opened the small lambskin flap, and found two keys securely inside. He took the keys, went into the stable, found his two chests, unlocked them, and counted the glittering coins and valuables inside. However, nothing had been taken; all his wealth lay where it belonged.
“…Shumer may have been kidnapped.” Yakov closed the trunk lid and re-locked it. “He didn’t take anything; his donkey is still tied up here.”
"Aren't you worried about him?" Yubi stood to the side, frowning as she watched his every move. "We should go and rescue him now! He might be in danger!"
“To be honest, I don’t care about his safety at all.” Yakov turned his head, grabbed the vampire’s arm and pressed it down. “See the footprints by the stable? They lead all the way into the forest. If we go looking for him, we don’t know what we’ll encounter, or even if we’ll find him. If he’s alive, someone like him can live a comfortable life anywhere; if he’s dead, there’s nothing we can do. Do you understand?”
“He’s my friend, and he’s your friend too!” Yubi broke free from him and shouted, “Maybe he’s in danger and needs your help!”
“That has nothing to do with me.” Yakov stood there coldly. “I only have one thing to worry about right now: ensuring your safety.”
He keenly sensed Yubi's cold gaze and saw him trying to escape, so he swiftly grabbed the black wool cloak and pulled the vampire back to his side. The sunlight was too intense, and Yubi, wearing the ring, was helplessly bound between the two iron gauntlets, his twisting movements futile. "Let me go, Blood Slave!" he desperately kicked Yakov's shin, causing the iron plates and chainmail to clang loudly. "What right do you have to tell me what to do?"
“You’ll have to ask your mother!” Yakov gripped his wrists tightly, preventing him from trying to remove the ring. “She gave me this despicable right!”
The two started fighting, which quickly escalated into a simple bullying incident, attracting the attention of Pascal, who happened to be passing by, who came to break it up. "Hey, what's going on here?" the black-robed knight gestured to reassure them, "Have you found the servant?"
Yubi's eyes gleamed as if he had found a savior. "Shumer has been captured and taken to the forest!" His arm was held tightly in Yakov's embrace. "Pascal, we should go find him! Look at the tracks in the snow, we should go rescue him! That wretched Yakov, he won't go looking for him himself, and he tells me not to go either!"
However, the Hospitaller noticed something amiss and, without heeding his words, immediately drew his sword and went to investigate. A grim and tense expression on his face extinguished Yubi's will to struggle like a bubble. "Is this true?" Pascal asked Yakov anxiously. "When did this happen?"
"When was the last time you saw him?" Yakov asked Yubi, his head bowed. The vampire child, whom he had taken from his arms, stood there blankly.
“You guys went out drinking last night, and Schumeer and I were alone in the room.” Yubi pressed his hand to his forehead. “He said he needed to use the restroom, and then he never came back. He also said he wanted me to open the door for him when he came back…”
Pascal and Yakov exchanged a glance, a terrible look on their faces. Yubi watched with concern. That look was like a burden, like the ashes after a devastating destruction, like the result of countless forced acts of forbearance and choices, like something complex he had not yet understood or experienced, something from adults, from the world, from what he had lost.
“Let’s go,” Pascal said. “Hurry, time is running out.”
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