Chapter 10 Chapter 8 Glade

They'd be on top of a cliff, with rolling, dense woodland below.The morning sun was rising from the right toward the sky, and by the time they set off, it would be shining directly into their eyes from the front. We're heading almost due north, toward Saraken.Saryon realized now.Merilon, if this place was still their destination, it should be far to the east.Should I speak up?he thought uneasily.Maybe Joram came to his senses and changed his mind, and finally decided not to go to Merilon.Maybe he was too proud to admit his mistakes to others.Maybe he made up his mind and discussed it with the other two, but I didn't pay attention because I was too tired.Saryon tried to remember if he had heard some of the young men talk about the change of direction, but he was too tired, and the memory of the previous days was hazy and distorted.

The Catalyst Saint didn't want people to think he was stupid, so he decided not to mention this matter, but hoped that something would happen so that he could know the current situation.Simkin led them down the high cliff and into the forest below.At first, everyone was relieved that this was not a swamp but a thick woodland, but the further inward they went, the less joy they felt.Even though it was winter, the trees were still inexplicably dense with leaves that were sickly brown and smelled of rot.Broad-leaved vines grew wildly on the path they were walking, entangled the tall tree trunks, and blocked the way forward.

"There's a saying about this plant...but I can't remember it." Simkin stared at it thoughtfully. "I thought maybe it was edible..." Mosiah stepped cautiously into the vine, and the leaves immediately rolled around his ankles, dragged him down, and pulled him deep. "Help!" he yelled in a hurry, and the thorns emerged from the vine, piercing into his body, and Mosiah screamed in pain.Joram drew the Dark Sword, plunged into the bushes, and slashed vigorously.Wherever the blade went, the vine leaves turned black and curled up.Reluctantly, the vines let go of their prey, and they pulled Mosiah out, bleeding but otherwise unharmed.

"It sucks my blood!" he said, shaking and staring at the plant in horror. "Oh, I forgot," Simkin said. "Kievine, it thinks we can eat it. Ah, I just know it has something to do with food." He defended himself, adding, and Mosiah glared at him. They marched on, Joram leading the way with the Dark Sword in hand. Saryon watched the young men closely, hoping to get a hint of their previous plans.Joram and Mosiah seemed to be satisfied with Simkin's leadership, while the latter, wearing a 'dirty mud stinky' or 'stinky stinky mud suit', strolled nonchalantly, confidently leading them where they wanted to go.Without hesitation, without confusion, his way through the winding labyrinth of the Kiyevine was easy--too easy.More than once, Mosiah pointed out that in some places there were deliberately stacked bones to mark the path, and the hoofprints of centaurs could be seen on the frozen ground.They also once passed a place where all the vines were flattened and several large trees snapped off like twigs.

"It's a giant," said Simkin. "It's a good thing we weren't around when he went by. They're not very smart, you know, and—at the same time, they're not dangerous—they just like to play with humans; unfortunately, they break toys bad habits." Every time they walked to a place where the trees were a little farther apart from each other, they could see the sunlight.Saryon found that they had been going north, and no one had mentioned it. Maybe Joram and Mosiah didn't know where Merillon was.The catalyst saint thought.They both grew up on the edge of the Outlands, a small village of field shapers.Qiao Lang can read and write, and Anya taught him to read and write, but has he ever seen a world map?Did he trust Sim Jin blindly?

It was unbelievable—Joram would not trust anyone, but the more Saryon heard and watched, the more he believed that was the case.Their conversation revolved around Merillon almost all the time. Mosiah talked about the stories he heard when he was a child, and talked about the Crystal City floating on several layers of magic power in the stories.They were greatly delighted by Simkin's recounting of the more bizarre gossip in the palace chatter, which was rare for him to be so talkative.Qiao Lang told his own stories, all of which were legends he heard from Anya. After all, Saryon had lived in Merilon for many years, and it was Anya's stories that touched him the most.Those stories are full of sadness and bitterness, and the memories of those escapes make the scenes in the city appear before the eyes of the catalyst saints.In these images he saw the Merilon he knew, quite different from Mosiah's fairy tales and Simkin's nonsense.

But since Joram hadn't changed his mind, why did Simkin take them on another road? The Catalyst Saint looked at Sim Jin more than once, and followed him all the way through the forest, trying to guess what tricks he was playing.But, as before, Saryon had to admit his utter failure.Catalyst Saints not only couldn't know Sim Jin's intentions from his behavior, but also saw with his own eyes that Sim Jin had thrown out the trap. Simkin was older than the other two, probably in his early twenties (though he could easily pretend to be any age from fourteen to seventy if he wanted to), and he was a total enigma.A man who can change his experience like a dress, a man whose blood magic bubbles like wine; Even death is disrespectful.Everyone loves Simkin, but no one believes him.

"No one takes him seriously," Saryon said to himself. "I have a feeling that more than one person will regret this—if he's lucky enough to survive." This annoying thought made the Catalyst Saint resolve. "I'm glad you've reconsidered Merilon, Joram," Saryon said quietly, when they stopped for lunch. "I haven't reconsidered," said Joram, looking at the Catalyst Saint with instant suspicion. "Then, we have gone the wrong way." Saryon said in a deep voice. "We're heading north, toward Saraken. Merilon's almost due east, and if we divert, we can still—"

"—to plunge headlong into the land of the Goblin Queen," Simkin interrupted him. "Perhaps our celibate friend, dreaming of returning to her fragrant bower—" "That's not the case!" Saryon shouted, his face burning—and his blood, if I'll admit it—at the thought of the wildly beautiful, half-naked Her Majesty Espeth. "We can divert to the east, if you like, Father Lenggan." Sim Jin looked at the treetops indifferently, and continued. "There is a road not far from here that will take you back to the swamp you loved so much. Finally, it will take you to the mushroom circle, and that road will take you deep into the heart of the centaur kingdom, and let you Watching those beasts see the ecstasy - of course it takes them very little time to rip your eyeballs out of your head, just enough to get a glimpse. If you survive, there are also interesting, fun-packed excursions Travel, like dragon dens, chimera caves, griffin lairs, pterodactyl lairs, and giant huts, don't forget there are goats, satyrs, and other beasts..."

"Just say that you took us this way for the sake of safety." Mosiah said impatiently. "Oh, of course." Xin Jin looked aggrieved. "I didn't take the detour because I like to walk or have you company, my boy. Avoid the waterways where most thieves lurk, and we'll save ourselves from being skinned and made into boots. Turn to the east at the northern border." As it sounded, even Mosiah was convinced, so Saryon didn't argue.Still he wondered, and he didn't know if Joram had noticed it before, if he had followed Simkin blindly before. The reticent young man was characteristically silent, and his silence seemed to indicate that he had expected Simkin to do so.But Saryon saw a wary gleam in those dark eyes the first time he had asked Simkin, and he guessed that Joram had been doing what the proverb says: sleep with eyes open, see or not.When Simkin took up the subject, the way Joram pursed his lips let Saryon know that this kind of thing would never happen again.

They went deeper and deeper in the jungle, and from the seventh day after entering the land of alienation, everyone's mood became increasingly depressed.The sunlight abandoned them, as if they found this area too dark and gloomy, so they didn't bother to shine here.Day after day, they went from the first gray-blue morning light in the sky to the deep darkness of night, which enveloped the whole team in a gloomy atmosphere. The woods seemed endless, and the deadly kiye vines grew everywhere.There was no neighing, and certainly nothing could live long within the range of this predatory plant.But everyone has a weird feeling of being watched, everyone looking back or turning suddenly, trying to deal with something behind them that isn't there. No one mentioned the Merilon rumor anymore, and no one spoke at all unless it was necessary.Joram was muffled and angry, Simkin was difficult, Saryon was worried, and Mosiah was angry with Simkin.Everyone was exhausted, with sore feet and nerves.They stood vigil in pairs at night, staring into the dark in fear that any random pair of eyes would stare back at them. The tired days passed day by day, the jungle was endless, and Chiye Teng never let go of any chance to hurt people and drink blood.Saryon walked hard along the way, with his head downcast, he didn't even look at where he was going, and he didn't care about the direction he was going, anyway, he saw the same everywhere he went.At this time, Mosiah, who was walking in front of him, suddenly stopped. "Father!" he whispered, grabbing Saryon as he approached. "What's the matter?" Saryon raised his head abruptly, his whole body numb with fear. "There!" Mosiah pointed somewhere. "Ahead of us. Doesn't that look like... sunshine?" Saryon stared in that direction.Joram approached and looked forward too. All around them were tall trees with chee vines crawling beneath their feet.Over their heads, the sky was a monotonous, dull gray.But ahead of them, not far away—perhaps half a mile away—there was a warm yellow glow seeping from between the tree trunks. "I think you're right," Saryon said softly, as if any louder voice would make the light go away.Until now, he didn't realize how much he longed to see the sun, longed to feel its warmth to drive away the cold that penetrated into the marrow of his bones.He looked at Simkin. "What's that?" He asked, pointing forward. "Have we reached the limit of this hateful forest?" "Uh." Xin Jin's relaxed appearance was annoying just by looking at it. "I'm not sure, better let me go and see." Before anyone could stop him, he disappeared, first the cloak, then the boots, then the hat, then the feathers, and then nothing at all. "I knew it!" Mosiah's face darkened. "He took us lost and didn't admit it! Well, it doesn't matter, I won't wait another quarter of an hour in this scary forest." He and Joram rushed forward, hacking away the cheyet, and Saryon ran after them. The closer they get, the brighter the light becomes.It was about noon now, and the sun should have risen to the zenith.Catalyst saints yearn for warmth and light, and to escape these depressing trees and blood-sucking vines.As they drew nearer, he heard a pleasant sound—the sound of water splashing on stones.Where there is running water, there is fresh food: fruit and nuts—no more tasteless bread of crude magic, no more fresh water that smells strangely of the cheetah. The whole team threw their caution into the air and ran forward, no longer worrying about whether there was something or someone watching them.For the warmth of the sun shining on his face for the last time, Saryon believed that he would give up his life. The crowd rushed out of the woods, stopped, and watched all this in awe. The sun shines from the clear and cloudless sky, penetrating through a gap in the forest curtain.The light spots shone brightly on a blue water waterfall rushing down from a high cliff, and danced lightly on the water waves of a clear and shallow stream.The sunlight fell on the bubbling pool, and a rainbow condensed in the vapor.The sun shines on a glade, the grass is high and the leaves are dense, and the flowers are fragrant. "Thank you Emin." The Catalyst Saint whispered. "No, wait!" Sim Jin popped out of nowhere. "Don't go there, you shouldn't be here."
"This is the wrong place!" Mosiah murmured lazily. Mosiah, Joram, and Saryon lay in the tall grass, enjoying the warmth and sweet smell, and contentedly tasting the luscious fruits they plucked from the bushes that grew on the banks of the hot spring. "Whatever it is, this place is more realistic than his words!" But Simkin would not even enter the clearing. "Let me tell you, I wasn't here last time." The other three decided to camp here for the night. "We'll get low," Joram told Simkin when his vague warnings were too absurd to bear. "It is indeed safer in the grass. If there is something coming, we have seen and heard it when it entered this grass!" Simkin shut up angrily, and he followed the others into the sunny meadow, pinching off flower after flower in a fit of temper.Others drank the cool water of the waterfall, bathed in the hot springs, and devoured the fruit hungrily.Then they shook out the blankets beside a giant tree by the grassland, and lay down in the tall grass to rest, with a warm look of sharing weal and woe. But Simkin was walking up and down restlessly, fidgeting in the grass, always getting up and looking into the woods, busy changing his clothes into one or another dazzling color. "Ignore him." Mosiah said to Saryon, noticing that the Catalyst Saint had been watching Simkin with a worried expression. "He's acting weird," Saryon said. "When will this be considered a new thing!" Mosiah retorted. "Tell us about Merilon, Father. You live there, but you never speak of it, and I know you don't approve of us going--" "I know, I was as irritating as Simkin," Saryon said, smiling.Feeling comfortably tired, he began at last to talk of Merilon as he remembered it—of the beauty of the Crystal Cathedral and the wonders of the city.He described how charming chariots pulled by giant squirrels or peacocks or swans flew through the air on magical wings and carried nobles into the clouds for their daily visits to the emperor's crystal palace.He spoke of the sacred grove where the tomb of Merlin was, the great mage who had brought his people into this world.He spoke of breathtaking sunsets, of the weather in perpetual spring or summer, and of times when a shower of roses sweetened the air. Mosiah leaned against the tree, his mouth gaping open.Joram was lying on his back, his face bathed in sunlight, a rare expression of relaxation softening his sharp, cold, angular outline.When he listened to Saryon's narration, there was clearly a pleasant and dreamy look in his eyes, maybe he saw that he was sitting in such a car. Simkin suddenly emerged from behind a tree, interrupting the Catalyst Saint, who frowned and stared into the clearing. "Lie down, you're scaring us to death," said Mosiah angrily. "If I lie down, I'll never get up again," Simkin replied with an off-putting jest. "At dusk, you'll find me stiff, like the well-behaved duke you see after the emperor's speech. It takes a tank of wine to soften him." "Go on, Father," said Mosiah. "Tell us a little more about Merilon, and leave that fool alone." "No." Simkin said proudly. "I'm leaving. Let me tell you one more time, I don't like this place!" With a shake of his head—on which he now wore a green pointed cap, with long plumes hanging down behind his green cloak—Simkin left the camp and disappeared into the woods. "His attitude is strange." The Catalyst Saint pondered. He found that he had spread the blanket on a tree root protruding from the ground, and it was uncomfortable against his back, so he stood up and moved the blanket to a different place. "Maybe we shouldn't let him go..." "How did you persuade him?" Joram asked lazily, throwing the crumbs in his knapsack to a raven.The bird, which had perched on the tree they were leaning against to rest, now descended condescendingly to the ground to eat.They were lying so comfortably that no one thought about why this bird was here, and hadn't seen any animals for several days before. "Oh, Simkin will be all right," said Mosiah, smiling as he watched the bird strutting around in style. "He's just angry that he's lost and won't admit it. Go on Merilon, Father, and talk about floating stone platforms and guild halls—" "If he is lost, we are lost too!" Saryon's peaceful mood disappeared immediately.The sunlight in the clearing suddenly became hot and harsh, giving him a headache. "Stop talking about Simkin, Catalyst Saints!" roared Joram, accidentally hitting the bird with a chunk of bread in his hand.The raven croaked angrily and flew back up the tree, grooming its ruffled feathers unhappily. "I've had enough of you two—" "Hush!" The sound that seemed to come out of nowhere shocked the three of them.Mosiah glanced flusteredly at the bird in the tree, but before he could react, Simkin emerged in the glade, his hat on one side, his thin face pale beneath his soft beard. "What's the matter?" Joram stood up and instinctively stretched out his hand to the Dark Sword. "Get down! Hide!" Simkin gasped, dragging him back into the tall grass. The others followed suit and fell to the ground, not daring to breathe. "Centaur?" Mosiah asked in a low voice. "Worse!" Simkin whispered. "Dukesis!"