“After all, grandfather’s funeral is not just a necessary expense, it’s also a party for people to socialize at. We’ll host guests in the mansion and provide food, clothing, and souvenirs. If we’re being frugal about that, people will start to wonder if our house is in decline, and they might try to butt in.”
“We’ll need to give this more thought. For example, if we include technological development and use prototypes during the funeral, we’ll be able to use the funds for development! The second mansion is a perfect example of that!”
“I see you’re using the funds to repair the mansion as well. That’s a perfect example, then! So perfect that it pisses me off... All right, there you have it. If we’re going to hold a funeral for grandfather, it’ll be a celebration. We’ll throw in some public funds, and it’ll be an opportunity to dispel any complaints.”
“Wait...if we’re going to use the money for a funeral and the grave, why don’t we put it toward publishing books or the library as well? Books are important. They can help people. I mean, we’re practically like books ourselves.” That was Sir Fenix’s weak point. He adored books, getting absorbed between their pages. They helped him, and he helped save them in turn. His grandchildren no doubt thought of that, realizing they still had that ace up their sleeve.
“All right, let’s do that. However, if we are to do something worthy of our grandfather’s funeral, publishing books won’t be enough. Let’s build a huge library.”
“That would be wonderful.” Thus began the development of a library which ended up being a venue for the “funeral.”
“I think making his grave into a library is incredibly fitting, and is a great idea if I do say so myself. Our grandfather will probably die before it’s completed, so we’ll hold a temporary funeral when his time comes, and then when the library is completed, we’ll hold the actual ceremony. Grandfather won’t be in a position to object to anything at that point, so it’s perfect. Though I do wonder if it’s all right to make a library into a funeral site.”
And that’s how the Fenix Gravestone Library came to be. Its creator ended up second-guessing if it was right to even make it, however, the organization that boasted the largest collection of books at the time was the Church. So the idea of a depository for books holding an important ceremony wasn’t that controversial. The main attraction of the library was a huge bookcase that existed as a stand-in for Sir Fenix’s gravestone. It is said that it was built using the last of the wood from the last of the treants, and its appearance made that rumor convincing. The books contained within the bookcase all related to Sir Fenix. His research accomplishments, the history books he gathered, stories and plays about his life... People who come to visit his grave often pay their respects at this bookshelf. Among the books, the oldest and most famous of them is a biography of Sir Fenix written shortly before his death. It was decided that this would be the first book to be placed on the shelf when it was made. It had been two hundred years since then, and many books had been written since, but that book still remained.
The name of that book was “Fushi no Kami.” It means “The Undying God.” The title alluded to the phoenix, a mythological bird that revives from its own ashes. It was a fitting title for a man known as the Phoenix, one who withstood many perils, saved many lives, and rebirthed many old forgotten technologies. The text you are holding now is the compilation I set out to make. Naturally, the one that has been on the bookshelf for two hundred years is not the original. That is a newly published version that visitors can actually pick up. Lucky that they made a lot of copies! The original is stored safely so that it can’t be damaged, and therefore I and many others could pay our respects by lifting the copy on that bookshelf.
Even though he was in a less than advantageous position, Sir Fenix had made his mark across time and history. It was a well-known custom to use his biography to pray for success. The library had no typical visitor—everyone from youngsters taking exams to veteran researchers walked through those doors. I hope all their dreams come true! What did I wish for? Even though this is the last volume? Well, if I wanted to wish for the success of this book, I should have done that before I started. No. My wish has nothing to do with this volume.
Sir Fenix, in his final moments, left his final wish with those close to him. It was said to be something like this:
“When I die, I will not be able to hear your answer, but...could you come to my grave at least once? It doesn’t matter how many years from now. Please come and tell me how much the world has developed by that time.” His grandchildren reported these as his last words, so there is no dispute that they were indeed what he’d said. It’s hard to determine if he was being a realist or a romantic. But, since that was what Sir Fenix wished, I want to do anything I can to make that come true. That’s why I paid my respects by adding this compilation of his life to the bookshelf.
Two hundred years have passed, and our daily life is something people would have once relegated to dreams or legends. I wrote about this in the afterwords of all my previous volumes. I hope you feel satisfied when you read this in heaven, Sir Fenix. I’m sure you’ll be embarrassed by it, but you did stand out a lot back then. Sir Fenix, now immortalized in a book, will surely never disappear, and he will continue to walk alongside humanity. Those who named the book, “Fushi no Kami,” no doubt hoped for that when they decided on the title—an undying god. I can sense their resolve. I feel proud knowing I have helped to continue that legacy by placing this compilation on the bookshelf.
By the way, as I look up to the top of the bookshelf holding the original “Fushi no Kami,” a thought crosses my mind. What if we were to set flame to Sir Fenix’s ashes which laid underneath it? For example, if this library were to be set alight and burn down, would something emerge from the flames?
Well, to be honest, Sir Fenix may have already been reborn elsewhere. He often referred to himself as a book, so he would probably say that as long as people continue to read this book, he will continue to live on.
He really is an undying god. An enduring sheet of paper. A Fushi no Kami.
He will continue to live on in the pages of this book. I think that is very fitting for him.
Time is a tyrant. However, as I place this book on the bookshelf at the Fenix Gravestone Library, I know that even if the hottest of fires were to burn this place down, I firmly believe that this book will never disappear.
—To my ancestors. With love from two hundred years in the future.