A moment passed before anyone viewing the spectacle from the edge of the lake dared to move. The temple burned over the tops of the trees. The water spout had dispersed into the heavens. Many witnessed the dueling warriors plunge into the water and disappear into the depths of the lake. But amidst the silence, Minh’s father raised a rifle over his head at the northern tip of the lake and ordered a full-scale attack. All of the machines had already vanished when Sun Quan passed the threshold of the lake’s surface. The remaining Chinese soldiers retreated for their lives or threw down their weapons in defeat and surrender.
Lien and Minh returned to Tho beside the dying Commander Lieu—his body contorted and broken.
The remaining turtles, without fanfare or comment, swam one by one to Turtle Tower on the small islet at the center of the lake. They marched over the land, through the center of the tower, and submerged themselves in the lake’s long-forgotten history to join those who had previously left. Nhan, riding on the back of the long-tailed bird, landed on the edge of the shore. She slid off the bird and approached her father. She leaned over him. Minh placed his hand on her shoulder but moved it away quickly with a strange look. Nhan's skin glowed, and the light from her face radiated into her father’s eyes.
“Father?”
He didn’t stir.
“I’m sorry, Nhan,” said Lien.
“Me too,” said Tho.
The great turtle emerged from the surface of the lake behind them and let out a loud, discordant call.
“Mr. Tho! The turtle,” exclaimed Minh.
“Great turtle,” said Tho. “Did you find the tablets?”
The turtle glanced skyward.
“What?”
“Heal the land.” A voice rose in their midst. They staggered and looked into the sky like waves of sound passed over them from an unknown source, yet the voice was familiar. Commanding. Her form descended and she appeared at the turtle’s side, once again in human form.
“Lady Trieu!” Exclamations came from all sides.
“What happened in the lake? How were you able to return?” asked Lien.
“Ask the one who dropped the tablets into the lake.”
Everyone looked at Tho. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Or did you?” questioned Trieu. “Mr. Tho, these are for you.”
She stepped forward and handed him the four marble tablets. In haste he turned and placed the four on the commander’s chest with Nhan, Lien, and Minh all gathered around.
“Once more, dear ancestors. Allow a good man to live for such a time as this.”
The commander jolted awake. His body restored. He looked up into his daughter’s eyes. “Nhan.”
“Father!”
She reached for him, but she wasn’t able to feel him. She backed away and looked at her hands. The commander sat up, still gazing at her. “Nhan.”
She breathed heavily and moved away from the entire group, which slowly retracted from her.
“Nhan,” said the commander. “You did it. You …” He looked closer. “Nhan?”
“Father, what’s happening to me?”
Her skin bubbled, and she rubbed her arms but couldn’t feel anything.
“Nhan!” yelled Minh. “Mom, what’s happening to her?”
No one had an answer, except the turtle, still half-submerged in the water. “She’s coming with me.”
“I don’t understand.” Minh moved towards her but stopped.
Her father had stood up and reached out to her. “Nhan?”
“She’s not coming with you,” demanded Minh. “She’s … she’s my friend. I … I was just getting to know her. She saved me.”
“But she chose not to save herself,” said Trieu, moving alongside Nhan. “This girl …” She reached out and touched the side of Nhan’s face. “She drew the machines away, unwilling to give up the rebel secrets, and when she could do no more, she jumped into the river to preserve the fight. To keep the knowledge she had locked forever inside.”
Tho looked down at the marble tablets in his hands. “And the tablets won’t help her now.”
“No.”
“You mean?” Tho paused, and Lien gripped his hand.
Trieu continued: “Her faith awakened the path. The great turtle rescued her and allowed her unselfishness to be used in the fight, and we will forever be grateful.”
Minh stared at Nhan’s solemn face, now mostly unresponsive. He had stepped out from his mother and stood like a weary soldier at the edge of a battlefield, surveying the devastation, and realizing life had changed for good. “She’s dead?” he asked, knowing the answer.
“A martyr. Like the Trung Sisters. Like Lady Trieu. She sacrificed herself for the cause of freedom,” replied Tho. “Remarkable girl.” Tho looked at her father. The commander’s eyes swelled with tears but his tight jaw and unflinching eyes dammed the emotion inside.
“What will become of her?” asked Minh, voice softened, hands slid in pockets slightly shaking.
“That is up to you,” said Lady Trieu. “How will you remember her? What will you do with that memory?”
Commander Lieu moved next to Minh. They watched Nhan’s skin fall off her, like shedding a new body, and her temporal one fell to the ground while its shadow lifted a few feet into the air.
Minh leaned over and touched the hair of her physical body silent on the ground. “They did this. Sun Quan. Qiong Qi. The Chinese. They killed her. She didn’t kill herself.” His voice was low and tense. “And what will happen to them? Did you destroy them? Did you, Lady Trieu? Will they pay for what they did?” He stood up aggressively toward the lady warrior. “Did you destroy them once and for all?”
Nhan’s likeness, unmoving, hung in the air over the back of Trieu’s head. “The likes of Qiong Qi or Sun Quan can not be killed as humans understand death. As long as the evil they do lives on in the hearts of men, the possibility exists for them to find a way to return.”
“Where did Sun Quan go? I want to face him.” Minh clenched his fist. “Give me your sword and I’ll slice him down.”
Nhan’s hollow shadow shifted back and forth as if caught in the breeze. The translucent being resembled Nhan’s human features, but the vacant eyes didn’t acknowledge her father or Minh. She stared into the meaningless space behind them like the goblin soldiers she earlier commanded.
Minh touched the cheek of her human body and glanced up at the being.
“What’s wrong with her? Why isn’t she like you?”
“She will find her voice,” Lady Trieu said. “As the voices of this world reach her, and show the appreciation of her sacrifice.”
“Will she ever return?” Minh’s eyes fixed at the ghost of Nhan behind the warrior.
“Minh, don’t worry of the future. Focus on rebuilding the present, with the eternal thanks of the past in your heart. Do you understand me?”
He nodded. “I will build her a shrine.”
Commander Lieu placed a firm grip on Minh’s right shoulder. “I will help you.”
“And you, Ba Trieu? What will become of you?”
At that moment, the young soldiers Cuong and Tuan approached. They were followed by Minh’s father, and all three of them walked straight toward Lady Trieu and bowed on their knees in her presence.
“Oh Great Warrior of the past, we honor you for this victory.”
“Stand,” she commanded immediately. “I am not the one to honor.” Trieu drew her sword and pointed at the man with the long white beard.
They nodded and turned their attention toward Tho. Knees on the ground. Commander Lieu joined them. Four symbols of the victorious rebels in a row, head bowed, in front of the ninety-five-year-old sage. Lien stared at her husband, who hadn’t yet spoken or glanced her way. But she smiled at him.
“Mr. Tho,” Minh’s father said. “We honor you.”
“We honor you,” the other three echoed.
Then the commander took charge.
“Most revered wise sage, Mr. Tho. We honor you with this victory. We owe you everything. We couldn’t have achieved this outcome without your courage and knowledge.”
Then Lady Trieu, the mighty warrior, still scarred from her attacks, bent her right knee into the ground as well, prompting all of the onlookers to join. Tho kept repeating “No, no,” but they didn’t obey. They lauded him with praise as he stood flanked by Lien and Minh.
“Please, please. I most assuredly didn’t do any of the fighting. Please stop.”
“Always modest, he is,” said Lien with a smile. She glanced down at her husband, who looked up at her for the first time.
“It was teamwork,” said Tho. “This woman right here”—he grabbed Lien’s hand and raised it in the air, doing likewise to Minh—"and this boy were the ones who wouldn’t let it go. I would have been content to nap over a hot cup of tea, but they insisted on rebellion.”
The laughter spread through the crowd as everyone returned to their feet. Minh’s father quietly walked to Lien’s side and grabbed her hand without fanfare or words exchanged. Minh stood between them and leaned his head back against them both. All three of them smiled, but not at each other.
“I am proud of you all,” said Commander Lieu, glancing back at his daughter once more, both her body on the ground and the apparition floating at the rear.
The turtle let out a large groan.
“It’s time,” said Lady Trieu.
“What will you do?” asked Lien.
Lady Trieu looked out over the crowd of people assembled on the shore of the lake. “As the people give, the past will take. And we will always stand as protectors if you believe in the past and what it has to teach.”
The giant lost bird with its massive pinpoint beak and long flowing tail took to the sky and nosedived into the heart of Hoan Kiem Lake. The water parted as it disappeared into the open pathway. Lady Trieu reached down and picked up Nhan’s sword lying next to her physical body. She reached back and touched the hand of Nhan’s ghost, and they both floated to the top of the great turtle’s shell at the edge of the water. The turtle let out a final cry and dove into the depths one last time. The waters swallowed them, and the shiny, metal tip of the sword, held straight into the air, glistened in the waning sun as it slipped back into the history beneath the surface.
Cuong and Lieu turned over Nhan’s body and laid it flat and proper in the grass. Tuan had found a stretcher in an abandoned Chinese armored vehicle at the edge of the street and placed it alongside the corpse. Minh’s father helped them move her body onto the stretcher, and they carried her toward the street when Minh approached and motioned for his father to change places with him. Minh grabbed the stretcher handle from his father, and they proceeded. Lien moved close to her husband. Their arms touched, but nothing else. Minh and the soldiers placed the stretcher on the back of an open-aired vehicle. Lieu stood over the body and placed his right palm over her face. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. After a moment, he turned toward the gathering crowd eager to hear from the de facto leader.
“Let’s begin by cleaning the streets. Show the bodies the respect they deserve, even the enemy ones, for this battle wasn’t theirs. Not really. Fix the broken windows. Patch the holes in the walls. Help each other on this long road back. Let us not worry of recriminations and revenge. The moment for justice will come. I’m sure of that. But not today. For now, let us show compassion to everyone as we incrementally move forward one day at a time.”
The solemnity of the moment sunk in across the worn faces. These were not happy faces. No contentedness shown itself in anyone’s eyes. But they were resolute faces, which understood the weight of history sitting on their shoulders. They would rebuild. They would move forward. They were, after all, Vietnamese.