Chapter 2 Chapter One

According to earth time, Saryon should be sixty or seventy years old now.He lived in a small apartment in Oxford, England, and lived a very peaceful life.He no longer remembers the year he was born in Simhallen; neither do I who wrote the history for him.Saryon had never been used to the conversion between Earth time and Simharon time.The meaning of history lies in its consequences, and time is only a measure of history, whether it is for the history of a moment ago, or the history of billions of moments ago.For Saryon, and for so many who came to Earth from the once magical world of Simharon, time began anew in another place—a world as beautiful, magical, and fragile as a bubble.Time ended when Joram pierced the bubble with the Dark Sword.

In any case, Saryon does not need the scale of time.The Catalyst Saint (as he still calls himself, though that status no longer makes sense in this world) has no appointments, no calendar, rarely reads the evening news, and doesn't need to have lunch with anyone.I'm his writer, as he likes to call me.I prefer some less solemn titles for secretarial work.I came to Saryon on the orders of Prince Jarod. I was once a servant of the prince, and now I should be a servant of Saryon.But he doesn't allow it.So I can only do something for him quietly when he doesn't notice, or forcefully take the work from his hand to do it.

I would have been a catalyst saint myself if we hadn't been exiled from Simharon.When I left that world as a child, I already had a little bit of magic in me.And after living in this mundane world for twenty years, I have nothing left.But I have some talent for writing.This is one of the reasons the prince sent me to Saryon's side.Prince Jarod felt it was important to spread the story of the Darksaber.In particular, he hopes that by reading these stories, people on Earth can understand the Simharon exiles. I have written three books that have been widely accepted by Earthlings but have had little success among our own kind.Of course, who would be happy if his life was filled with luxury, lust, greed, selfishness, and robbery?I set up a mirror before the people of Simharon.They look in the mirror and dislike the ugly image that leaps before their eyes.Instead of blaming themselves, they blame the mirror.

My host and I have few visitors.He has decided to concentrate all his mind on the study of mathematics.This was one of the reasons he moved to Oxford from the resettlement camp, so that he could live next to the old and sacred university and her library.He doesn't attend classes there, but a tutor comes to his apartment to instruct him; and the tutor is actually learning from her students.When it became apparent that the tutor had run out of knowledge to impart, his regular visits ceased.She does come in for a cup of tea now and then, though. It should have been a time of calm and bliss in Saryon's tumultuous life.Although he didn't think so himself, I could see his face light up every time he mentioned it.But I also heard the sadness in his voice, as if regretting that such peace could not accompany him through middle age, like comfortable jeans, accompany him into old age, until the moment of eternal sleep.

Of course, the reality is not like this.It made me look back and remember that night again.Time living on earth is like a necklace of pearls.And since that night, the necklace broke, and the pearls fell off one by one, faster and faster, and finally there was only an empty chain and the hook that had locked it.All pearls are lost, and that chain will be thrown away, useless. That night, Saryon and I were hanging out in his small apartment.He is arranging the teapot.He told me it always reminded him of another time when he tried to pick up a teapot and it wasn't a teapot but a Simkin. We just finished listening to the radio news.Like I said, Saryon hadn't been very concerned about what was going on on Earth, he didn't think it had much to do with him.But unfortunately, the message came along and was more relevant to him than he or anyone else could have hoped.So Saryon had to pay attention to it.

The prospect of war with Conifer is bleak.This mysterious alien race suddenly appeared, and immediately showed a tendency to kill us.Now they've taken another of our colonies.The refugees came back to Earth, bringing with them all sorts of horrific stories of what happened when the colony fell.The human casualties were numerous, and according to reports from the refugees, Cornifer refused to accept any requests for negotiations.In fact, they killed all the envoys that the colonies sent.Conifer's goal appears to be to exterminate every single human in the galaxy. This is worrying news.While we were talking about this, I saw Saryon jump up suddenly, as if startled by some sudden sound.But I myself heard nothing.

"I've got to go to the front door," he said. "Someone's there." Saryon asked me to stop here as he read the manuscript.He told me a little stubbornly that I should stop this paragraph first and explain the story of Joram, Xin Jin and the Dark Sword, otherwise the readers will not understand the following things. I replied that if we went back in time and pulled readers back to our original experiences (which most of us have ourselves), we might lose a considerable number of readers.I assured him that things from the past would be brought up as we narrated.I also gently hinted to him that I was a capable biographer and already experienced in the field.I reminded him that he himself was satisfied with the first three books I had written.Then I begged him to let me come back to the story.

Saryon is actually a very humble man, but the thought that his memories are so important that Prince Jarod sent me to record them makes him a little carried away.But he quickly recognized my ability and allowed me to continue my writing. "How strange!" said Saryon emphatically. "I wonder who else will be here at this late hour." I wondered why the visitor didn't ring the doorbell, as all normal people should.I told Saryon what I thought. "They rang," Saryon said softly, "but in my mind, not in my ears. Can't you hear?" I can't hear it, but it's not surprising.Saryon had spent most of his life in Simharon, and he was far more attuned to the magic of that world than I was.And I only lived in that world for five years.I was a little orphan when Saryon rescued me from the abandoned holy mountain.

At this moment, Saryon had just lit the fire under the teapot to prepare hot water for the barley tea before going to bed.We all enjoyed this warm cup of tea before bed, but Saryon insisted that he make it for me.He turned from the teapot and stared at the door.Like many of us, he didn't immediately answer the door or open the window to see who was outside.Standing in the kitchen in his pajamas and slippers, he asked loudly again. "Who would want to see me at this late hour?" The wings of hope made his heart beat faster.His face was flushed with anticipation.Having served him for so long, I naturally know what he is thinking.

Many years ago (twenty years ago, to be exact, but I doubt Saryon had any conception of that much time), by then Saryon had said goodbye to two people he loved.He hasn't seen or heard of those two since then.He had no reason to think he'd be able to hear from them again.Only Joram promised Saryon at parting that he would let his son come to Saryon when he came of age. Now, whenever the doorbell rang, or there was a knock at the door, Saryon imagined it was Joram's son standing at the door.That kid should be as tall as his father, with curly black hair too, but hopefully he won't have a red and black blazing fire burning inside him like his father did.

The psychic signal asking Saryon to go to the front door appeared again.This time it was so intense and edgy that I felt it (it was an astonishing feeling).The man who rang the doorbell must have put his whole weight on the button.The kitchen was lit and could be seen from the street.Whoever is sending us spiritual commands outside must know that Saryon and I are at home. The second telepathic signal brought Saryon out of the deep thought trance."Here we come!" he yelled, but the faint voice couldn't penetrate the thick wooden door of the kitchen. He went into the bedroom, took out his flannel robe, and threw it over his pajamas.I'm still in day clothes - I've never had much interest in pajamas.He hurried out through the kitchen and I followed him.We went through the living room and into the little hall.He turned on the light outside the door, only to find that the light was broken. "The bulb must have blown out," he said angrily. "Turn on the hall light." I flipped the switch, and the hall light didn't come on. It's weird, it's as if two light bulbs chose to burn out at the same time. "I don't like this, master," I said in sign language.Although Saryon had unlocked the door and was about to open it. I have tried many times to convince Saryon that in this dangerous world there are people who want to hurt him, who want to break into his house, rob him, beat him, and possibly kill him.Simharon may have her flaws, but such a sordid crime is far from the knowledge of her denizens.They are afraid of centaurs, giants, dragons, goblins and rebellious minions, but they are not afraid of bandits, assassins and serial murderers. "Better take a peek through the hole first," I advised Saryon. "No need," Saryon dismissed my suggestion. "That must be Joram's boy. Besides, how can I see him through a door-hole in such a dark place?" Saryon, imagining a baby lying in a basket on the doorstep (as I said, he has a vague sense of time), flung open the door. We saw no baby, but a shadow darker than night standing on the doorstep.Even the neighbor's lights were covered by him, and the starlight was also covered by him. The shadow turned into a man in a black robe and a black hood over his head.By the faint light cast from the kitchen in the distance, I could see his white hands, meticulously folded on the front of his black robes.There are also two shining eyes. Saryon took a step back and put his hand on his heart.The heart was evidently no longer beating rapidly, it was almost completely still.Memories of fear jumped out of the darkness brought to us by the man in black.Memories of fear leaped to the catalyst saint. "Dukesis!" he cried with trembling lips. Dukexis - Simharon's dreaded lawman.When we first came to this new world (by force that time), mana was thinned out here, and the Dukes lost nearly all of their magical power.We've heard rumors that over the past two decades the Dukes have found a way to restore what they lost.Whether that's true or not, the Duke clearly hasn't lost his ability to intimidate people. Saryon backed into the foyer, bumped into me (all from my vague memory), and threw out his arms to protect me.protect me!I should protect him! He pinned me against the wall of the small foyer and left the door open, with no intention of slamming the panel in the visitor's face, or preventing this dreaded visitor from entering the house.This guy is unstoppable.I know that as well as Saryon, but I do try to block the older catalyst saint with my body.It's just that I don't know how to fight. Duke Xisi stepped into the door.With a wave of his hand, the door closed silently behind him.Then he lifted his hood, revealed his face, and stared at Saryon for a few seconds without moving, as if expecting some kind of answer.Saryon was so embarrassed that he forgot everything except standing on the rug and shivering. The lawman's eyes turned to me, penetrated into my soul, and clung to my heart.I started to fear that if I disobeyed him my heart would stop. Duchess said, "First of all, I warn you two to keep quiet, for your own protection. Understand?" His voice wasn't loud, but every word he uttered was so fierce it shot straight into my eyes. Saryon nodded.He didn't know what was going to happen, and neither did I.But neither of us intends to argue. "Very well," said the lawman. "Now I will perform a magic trick. Don't be afraid, it won't hurt you." When Duke Xisi spoke, there was no sound.To me it sounded like he was whispering in the lowest voice.After listening to Du Kexi's promise, we no longer panicked, but we still observed everything around us tremblingly and waited.what happens?Only Emin knew. Nothing happened.At least I didn't see anything.Pressing his fingers on his lips, Duke Xisi gave another silent command, and walked into the living room first.The two of us shuffled behind him, leaning against each other.Once in the living room, the Marshal pointed with a long white finger. A painting hanging on the wall, of course, that painting has always been hanging on that wall.The content of the painting is an idyllic scene of a herd of cattle on a pasture.Now there's an eerie green glow behind it. Duke Xisi pointed again.This time it was on the phone.The same green light enveloped the phone. Duke Xisi nodded, as if he thought that what happened was in line with his expectations.But he didn't explain to us what happened.Again, he didn't make a sound, but warned us very forcefully not to speak. Then Duke Xis did the most peculiar thing.He turned around, just like a guest who has been formally invited by us to come in and take off his hat and coat before drinking tea and chatting with us. In front of the window, I opened the curtain a little and looked out. I tried desperately to gain some clarity about this strange situation, but all my brain fed me was a jumble of fleeting thoughts.First, I think this Duke Sisi is sending a signal to his reinforcements.But logic tells me that there shouldn't be a need for a special operations force to deal with an old catalyst saint and his writers.So this first thought was replaced by another. Duke Xisi is confirming whether he is being followed. Saryon and I still don't know what to do, but now we're more curious than frightened.Out of habit, I fumbled for the light switch. "Don't try in vain, it won't light up." Duke Xisi's voice vibrated in my head, making me feel a little bit out of shock, just like I felt when I was electrocuted for the first time in this strange world. "Don't move." The voice ordered me in my head again. We just stood there in the dark living room.I could feel Saryon's body shivering in his pajamas, because he had turned down the heat in the apartment, so his flimsy robes weren't very helpful now.While I was wondering if I could bring a woolen coat for my master, Duke Xis spoke silently again.Although the words are not spoken to me, but I can understand. "You don't remember me, do you, Saryon?" Saryon has dealt with many dukes (not all of them in a pleasant mood, of course).He told me recently that he thought this lawman must be one of the lawmen who captured him in the Forbidden Library of the Holy Mountain, or maybe even the executioner who carried out the petrification.It was an extremely cruel punishment for the catalyst saints who rebelled against the authority of the church.Saryon had no idea why such a person would come to his small apartment late at night to chat with him.All he could do was stand still, stammering and whispering to me that if the guy would let us turn on the light and let us see his face, he'd have a better chance of recognizing the guy. "It will all be clear soon," said the marshal.I thought there was something mournful in his voice, as if the man (it was a man, I'm finally sure of that) was disappointed that Saryon didn't recognize him. "Now, follow my instructions. Go back to the kitchen, and continue preparing the tea, as you usually do. Take the cups to the bedroom, as you usually do. Lie down and read to your young man, and just Do as you usually do. Don't do anything out of your normal habits. I can see you from the window. I don't think I'm being followed, but I can't be sure." This last sentence is not conducive to relaxing our nerves, but we can only follow his orders.Like any Catalyst Saint, Saryon was used to obedience.Me too, because I was brought up to be a royal servant.So, my master won't be arguing with the lawman in just his pajamas.We head towards the kitchen. Duke Xisi remained in the dark living room, but I could feel the man's eyes looking at me.That feeling is really exhausting.Moreover, neither Saryon nor I realized that we had developed such a "nightlife habit."When we are forced to pay attention to this fact and start thinking about what we are going to do every night, we can't think of anything. "Don't think about it," came Dukexis's voice. "Let your bodies do their thing. When you're in bed, Father, we're going to talk." We didn't choose to spend the night this way, but we didn't have much of a choice.Saryon took the lawman's advice and tried not to think about what he was about to do.He extinguished the fire.At this time, the teapot had already whistled loudly for a long time, but we didn't notice it at all in our panic.He pours hot water into a teacup and I add a plate of digestive biscuits.We took tea and biscuits and staggered to the bedroom. Duke Xisi followed silently. Saryon remembered his master's duties.He stopped, turned around, raised his teacup, and silently asked the visitor if he would like to share the midnight snack with us. "Keep going!" the voice urged in my head.Then the voice softened again. "no thanks." Saryon went into his cubicle and put tea and biscuits on the bedside table.I pulled out the chair, opened the book, and found the place we read last night. Saryon climbed into bed and tucked in the covers when he remembered that he usually brushed his teeth before doing this.He looked at me and made a teeth-brushing expression.I shrugged, unable to give him any advice or help. He looked embarrassed, as if to raise this point with the marshal, but changed his mind in the end.After another glance at me, he settled into bed, opened his book, and took a sip of his tea.I would normally eat a biscuit, but at this point, my mouth felt so dry that if I swallowed a biscuit right now, I doubt I would choke. Duke Xisi looked at us from the shadows in the corridor, seeming satisfied.He left for a while, then came back with a kitchen chair and sat in the hallway.Magical whispers came again, and Saryon and I waited, wondering which painting on the wall would turn green again. No painting turns green. "I believe," said the voiceless voice, "that you usually listen to music, don't you?" certainly!Saryon forgot.He turns on the CD stereo.He has always believed that CD audio is one of the most amazing and beautiful creations in the technological world.Great music (Mozart as I recall) filled the room.Saryon began to read aloud P. G．The Universal Butler by Wodehouse; he is one of our favorite authors.If it weren't for that shadowy guy, we would have enjoyed the atmosphere a lot.But that guy was in the hallway like a crow. "It's safe to speak now," Duques said.This time, he finally made a sound, although the voice was very low.He pushed the hood back completely. "Keep your voice down though. I've eliminated DiConkel's device, but there may be something here that I don't know about." We were finally able to talk, but all the questions that were crowding my mind escaped.Since I can't speak the questions, I can let my master speak.But I could see that Saryon was in a similar situation to me. All he could do was chew biscuits, drink tea, and watch Dukes.Duke Xisi's face was now directly exposed to the light.Saryon seemed to find something in that man.Later, Saryon told me that at that time he did not feel the extreme fear that most people face the law enforcement officer.In fact, seeing this person made him tremble a little with pleasure.If he could recall who this person was, he would be glad to meet this person. "Sorry, sir," Saryon stammered, "I know I know you, but I'm getting old and my eyesight is bad..." The man smiled. "I'm Mosiah," he said.