Chapter 13 Chapter 10 Games
Joram began his secret training sessions when he was seven years old.
After dinner one day, Anya reached out and ran her fingers through Joram's thick, tangled hair.Joram tensed up, which is when Anya always started repeating her story.For Joram, who can only stay alone in the cabin every day, he always feels confused. He doesn't know whether he is looking forward to it or fearing the arrival of story time.But tonight, Anya didn't start combing her hair as usual. The little boy felt strange and looked up at her.
Anya was staring at him, stroking his hair absently; she watched his face carefully, caressing his cheeks with her palms from time to time.He could see that she was thinking about something in her mind, and Anya checked her thoughts repeatedly in her mind, like a magic craftsman from the tribe of Boalban fondling a gemstone in his hand, checking for flaws.Finally, she pursed her lips and made a decision.
She grabbed Joram's arm and pulled him to sit on the floor with her.
"What's the matter, Anya?" he asked uneasily. "What are we going to do now? You won't tell me about Papa?"
"Let's talk about it later, let's play a game now." Anya said firmly.
Qiao Lang looked at his mother in surprise. Anya had never played any games with him. Even now, he didn't think that Anya really wanted to play games with him.Anya tried to give Joram an encouraging smile, but her wide-eyed, weird grin only made Joram feel more nervous.Even so, he still looked at Anya with longing eyes.No matter how much she had hurt him before, but—just like a person can't help licking his painful tooth decay—Joran can't help but want to touch the pain in his heart, knowing that the pain is still there. Being in place always gave him a brutal sense of satisfaction.
Anya reached into a small leather bag that she wore around her waist with a belt, and took out a small smooth stone. She threw the stone upwards and used magic to make the stone disappear in midair.The little stone disappeared, and she looked at the confused Joran with a triumphant expression.The trick of the little stone disappearing was nothing great, it was a commonplace trick even to the lowest class of serf-mages, if she could perform some marvelous magic from Merilon...
"Very good, baby," Anya said, reaching into the air to retrieve the stone. "Since you don't think it's a big deal, let's try it for you."
Joram pulled his face down, and his black feathery eyebrows ruthlessly frowned on his childish face.Anya's words hit the nail on the head, and he touched his aching chest.
"You know I can't," he said sullenly.
"Pick up the stone, my little one." Anya said jokingly, and handed the stone to Joram.
But Qiao Lang found that there was no trace of playfulness in her mother's eyes. In her eyes, there was only purpose, determination, and a strange light.Joram reached out and took the stone.
"Let the stone disappear in midair." Anya ordered.
With a sullen face, the little boy sighed and threw the stone into the air, and the stone fell to his feet with a bang.
There was silence for a while, and Joram heard the stones rolling on the wooden floor, and finally stopped.He looked at his mother out of the corner of his eye. "Why can't I make it go away?" he asked in a low voice. "Why am I different from other people? Even a catalyst saint can do such a simple thing..."
"Bah! One day it will be easy for you too." Anya caressed the curly black hair on Joram's face. "Don't worry, there are many people in the nobles who learn to use magic very slowly."
But Qiao Lang was not satisfied with Anya's answer, she avoided his eyes, and looked at his hair when she spoke.He angrily pulled his head away from Anya's caress.
"When?" he asked stubbornly.
The little boy saw his mother's lips pursed.He was ready to meet her coming anger, but Anya's hand fell limply on the skirt, and her eyes were distracted.
"Soon, someday," she repeated with a blank smile. "Don't bother me with a bunch of questions, just reach out."
Qiao Lang looked at his mother, hesitating, as if he was considering whether to continue arguing with her.Finally, knowing that it would do no good, he reached out his hand.Anya held Qiao Lang's hand and studied it carefully.
"Your fingers are long and thin," she said to herself. "Fast and nimble. Well, well, very good."
The stone on the floor was floating in the air under Anya's magical command. She caught the stone and put it in the little boy's open palm.
"Joran, I'm going to teach you how to make the stone disappear now. This is the magic I'm going to teach you now, a secret method that is unknown. You must remember that this secret must never be taught to others. Or let others know, or they'll banish both of us to the afterlife. Do you hear me, my little one?" she said softly.
"I hear you clearly," replied Joram, his eyes widening in disbelief, and the original fear and doubt in his heart were suddenly replaced by an eager desire to learn.
"The first time I threw a stone in the air, I didn't really use magic to make it disappear, just like I just turned the stone back out of thin air, it's just your illusion. I'm not joking, carefully Look. Look, I threw the stone in the air, and it disappeared, didn't it? Isn't that what you saw? Ah, but look again, the stone is still here! In my hand!"
"I don't understand what you mean." Joram replied, and he doubted Anya again.
"I tricked your eyes. Look, I just made the motion of throwing the stone in the air, and your eyes followed my motion to look at my hand. But when you pay attention to my hand, My other hand hid the stone, and then it disappeared. This is the trick you must learn from now on, Joram—you must learn how to deceive other people's eyes. No, Don't frown, baby, it's not difficult, because people always only see what they want to see. Now it's you, try it..."
In this way, Joram began his training course of deception.
Day after day he practiced in the safety of a magic shield outside the cabin.Joram enjoyed these training sessions.These classes gave him at least something to do, and he found himself quite talented.As a child, he never doubted how Anya learned this secret technique.Perhaps it should be said that even if he suspected it, he only regarded it as one of Anya's many strange behaviors, just like her tattered and gorgeous clothes.Only one thing bothered him, and once again, the feeling of being different from others jumped into his heart again.
"Why do I have to learn this, Anya?" Joran asked nonchalantly six months later.He was practicing rolling his knuckles a small, smooth stone that flew rapidly back and forth across the back of his hand.
"When you start working in the fields next year, you will need to use this little trick." Anya replied absent-mindedly.
Joram raised his head suddenly, as quickly as a cat jumping at a mouse.Anya noticed the boy's black eyes that shot over quickly, and reluctantly added another sentence: "Of course, if you haven't learned how to use magic by then."
Qiao Ran frowned and wanted to ask a question, but Anya turned around and looked down at her tattered and dirty clothes. Her dark and calloused hands began to tidy up the threads on the clothes. "Actually, there is another reason, child. When we return to Malilong, this secret technique will impress many members of the royal family."
"We're going to Merilon?" Joram shouted, completely forgetting his training and what made him different from the others.He jumped up, and the small stone in his hand fell to the ground.He gripped his mother's hand tightly. "When, Anya, when?"
"Soon." Anya replied calmly, pulling out Joran's curly hair. "Soon, but I have to find my jewelry first." She looked around the cabin blankly. "My jewelry box is missing, I can't go to a social dinner without getting dressed..."
But Qiao Lang was not at all interested in jewelry or Anya's more frequent babblings. He grabbed his mother's ragged skirt and begged, "Please, Anya, tell me when, when can I see the beautiful scenery of Malilong When can I see the Silk Dragon Inn, the Three Sisters, the Crystal Rainbow Spiral Tower, the Swan Garden, and—”
"Ah, my lovely little baby, my beautiful little baby." Anya said lovingly, reaching out and tapping the messy black curly hair on Joran's face. "We'll be going to Merilon soon. My little butterfly, when they see you, they'll see a mage of noble family, a full-blooded archmage of the tribe of Albanara. For this Educating you for a moment, and working hard to achieve this goal. Soon, I will take you back to Merilon to retrieve everything that belongs to us."
"But when will it be?" Joram asked stubbornly.
"Soon, my beautiful son." Anya only answered him like this.
Helpless, Qiao Lang could only be satisfied with Anya's answer.
At the age of eight, Joram started working in the fields with other children.Children's work is not difficult, the hours are long and tiring, but they work the same hours as adults.They are assigned to some tedious tasks, such as clearing the stones in the field, or carefully collecting the parasites and other insects in their allocated area with the assistance of adults, so as to help the crops in the field to grow smoothly and nourish the body. food. Catalyst saints will not grant any life force to the children, which will not only be superfluous, but also waste precious life force, so the children always walk in the field instead of floating; many children who already have enough life force are still They can use magic to make stones fly into the air, or make wingless insects float on the crops. They always secretly hold some impromptu magic competitions when the supervisors or catalyst saints are not paying attention. Have some fun.On these rare occasions Joram was invariably urged or induced by the others to demonstrate his magic skills, and he easily made it seem that he was different from the others, by tricks of deception which he grew more and more proficient at. Comparable.Because of this, no one paid special attention to him. In fact, most of the time, the other children would not invite Joram to play, and few liked him.He was serious, above all others, and always suspicious of all offers of friendship that were extended to him. "Don't let anyone get close to you, son," Anya told him. "They won't understand you, they will be afraid of anything they don't understand. As long as they are afraid, they will destroy everything that scares them." After being coldly and flatly rejected by the strange black-haired kid, one by one all the kids kept their distance from Joram.But there is still a little boy who never gives up showing kindness to him, and this little boy is Mosiah.He is the son of a high-ranking serf mage, smart and outgoing, and he has a talent for magic that is different from ordinary people--Father Touben also noticed this, and someone has heard him mention that when Mosiah grows up, he should use He was sent to the guild to make a living. Charming, outgoing, and popular, Mosiah had no idea why Joram was so drawn to him, perhaps, like a magnet to steel.Whatever the reason, Mosiah never gave up on Joram's categorical refusal to approach him. Mosiah approached Joram whenever he could while working in the fields, and he often sat next to him during the lunch break, rambling on without saying a word, never expecting or asking for anything from the taciturn little boy sitting beside him. In response, this friendship between them may seem to be a one-way, futile one-of course, Joram never responded to him in any positive way.Occasionally, Mosiah would be interrupted abruptly, but Mosiah felt that Joram was still willing to accept his company, so he continued to maintain the friendship between the two, slowly peeling off Joram and building it up like a costume. He has the illusion of being tall and hard like his father's stone skin.
Valen Village has lived peacefully with the villagers for several years, and the four seasons are harmonious and intertwined.Although, the atmospheric mages of the Sihana tribe occasionally have to adjust some unexpected weather conditions that did not go according to plan. With the harmony and interweaving of the four seasons, the pace of life of the serf mages also changed.Spring plowing, summer weeding, autumn harvesting, and in winter, villagers struggle to survive, waiting for the arrival of the next spring, and then the whole cycle repeats countless times.Although their lives are monotonous, heavy, and poor, the serf mages of Varen always consider themselves a lucky group, and everyone knows that the situation may be worse.The overseer is a just and fair person who ensures that everyone gets their share of the harvest and never takes money from others for their own.Bandits who plunder northern villages are unheard of here.And the winter, which is the worst disaster of the year, is cold and long, but compared with other places in the north, it is still more than enough and more than enough. Even the remote village of Valen received some news about uprisings and resistance.In fact, some privately asked the villagers if they wanted to declare independence, but Mosiah's father was content with the status quo.He knew from past experience that freedom is a good thing, but someone has to pay for it. Therefore, he immediately drew a line with the outsiders and made it clear that he and the villagers just wanted to stay out of it. The foreman of Waren Village also considers himself very lucky. He has never failed his superiors' expectations and can always pay generous tribute every year. He also doesn't have to worry about riots and uprisings that are rumored to have occurred in other places.The overseer knew of the clandestine contacts and meetings between the villagers and the rioters and agitators, but he and the villagers had already reached a labor agreement that was beneficial to both; Close one eye. Father Toben, the catalyst saint, does not consider himself a lucky man. He finds it increasingly difficult for him to use the little spare time left in his austere and hard life to continue his research work.To be recognized by others again, and to return to the group of church members slowly became an almost impossible dream in his heart.His crime--the sin that had brought him down to the rank of village saint--was a petty fault of youthful indiscretion, his fault for writing a treatise, nothing more.Papers were published in the books On the Wonders of Natural Weather Cycles, Against Magical Intervention, and Ode to Pastoral Crops.It's a wonderful piece of writing, and he's honored to have it in the inner library of the Holy Mountain, at least, that's what they say before they assign him a new job and throw him out .He wasn't quite sure if his thesis was actually stored in the Inner Library, since he hadn't been able to go back to the Holy Mountain to check it out since then. The seasons are changing, the sun and the moon are flying back and forth, and the supervisor pays the annual tribute every year as usual. Father Toben continues to chase the dream that is fading day by day.Life hasn't changed much for Joram, but it's getting darker. Fifteen years after she settled in the farm, Anya still wore the same clothes.The original gorgeous weavers of the dress were left with only some tattered and ragged rags, supported by Anya's own magical power.The evening story time is still ceremonial, but now filled with tales of the beauty of Merilon.Although, as the years passed, Anya's stories became more and more confusing and contradictory, and she always fell into the illusion that she was already in Malilong when she told the story.From her absurd narrative, Merilon City seemed to be some combination of a beautiful garden and a terrifying abyss.As for who it was, it all depended on where the crazy thoughts led her. Regarding returning to Merilon, when Joram grows up, he finally understands that Anya's dreams are as ragged as the clothes she wears.He could have regarded Anya's stories as fantasies, but there seemed to be some real fragments in her stories, hanging on her body like those once noble and gorgeous rags. Joram's life was harsh and difficult, and he had to struggle every day to survive.He watched his mother go mad quickly; her eyes more and more like Joram's father, turned to stone, always fixed on the dark realm of nothingness in the distance.He silently accepted the fact that his mother had gone mad, as he accepted other sufferings. But there was only one pain that Joram could not bear: until now he knew nothing of magic.Day after day, he became more and more proficient at deception, and his deception tricked everyone, including the always cautious supervisor.But no matter how much he wished and begged every morning, he still couldn't feel any magic burning in his soul. When Joram was fifteen, he stopped asking Anya when she would gain magical powers. Deep in his heart, Joram already knew the answer.
As the children grew stronger, the work assigned to them grew heavy and difficult; the older boys and the younger were given some heavy and laborious work, so that they would be exhausted and have no mind to think about anything.Rumors pointed out that these big boys and young people were always causing trouble among the serf mages. Although the supervisor thought that what he did would not cause complaints and dissatisfaction from the villagers, he was not willing to be blind because of it.So, whenever he was going to start a new farm, he always gave the job of clearing the land to all the young people, it was a hard job, they had to remove or burn all the undergrowth, remove the big rocks , removing all the weeds that covered the ground, plus a bunch of other backbreaking heavy work.Then, other serf mages with higher status and more privileges, with the help of the druids of the Fehanishu branch, will use magic to persuade the big tree to uproot itself, and then replant themselves in other places.The young people have to drag the dead trees back to the village to collect them and place them in designated places.Several times a year, the winged messengers sent by the wizards of the Boalban tribe will regularly transport these timbers back to the city. All this labor work has to be done with bare hands, and the catalyst saints never give the young man the life force to do it.Even Mosiah, who is deeply gifted in magic, is often too tired to perform magic.There is a reason for doing this. The supervisor wants to break down the high ambitions of the young people, and then mold them into ordinary serf mages who follow the rules like their parents. As for the tools... Once, when Joram couldn't stand the heavy work of pushing boulders off the ground with his bare hands, an idea popped into his mind.He picked up a branch, placed it under a boulder, and used the branch's lever to move the stone.Just as Joram was pushing against the branch beneath the boulder, Mosiah grabbed him by the arm with a look of horror on his face. "Joran, what are you doing?" "What? What am I doing?" Joram growled impatiently, pushing Mosiah's hand away.He doesn't like others to touch him. "I'm trying to figure out how to move this big rock!" "The boulder moves because you transmit life force to the branch!" said Mosiah. "You transmit the power of life to something that has no life power of its own!" Joram stared at the branch, brow furrowed. "so what?" "Qiao Lang, only those demon craftsmen would do this! Only those who are familiar with the way of darkness would do such a thing!" Mosiah whispered in surprise. Joram laughed mockingly. "You mean the so-called dark way is just moving stones with branches? People are so afraid of these people, I thought at least they had the habit of sacrificing babies—" "Don't say such things, Joram." Mosiah hissed Joram back, and he looked around nervously. "They deny magic, and they also deny the power of life. They destroy everything by means of darkness. During the Iron War, they really almost destroyed the entire world!" "You're crazy, why would they want to destroy the world and themselves?" Joram muttered. "According to some people, if they are already the living dead themselves, then there is nothing to lose." "'Already a living dead'? What do you mean?" Joram asked Mosiah in a low voice, avoiding his eyes.Joram looked at the boulder through the matted black hair on his face. "Sometimes some babies are not born with life force," said Mosiah, looking at Joram in a little surprise. "Haven't you heard? I thought your mother told you these things—" Mosiah stopped suddenly in embarrassment. "No," replied Joram in his usual low, expressionless voice, though his face suddenly paled, and the hand that was holding the branch tightened suddenly. Accidentally mentioning Anya, Mosiah couldn't help kicking himself in the heart. He continued as usual, saying to Qiao Lang who was silent and did not respond: "After birth, we will all undergo testing rituals. And some Sometimes, some babies will fail the test, which means that there is no life force in them." "What are they going to do with . "The Catalyst Saints will take these babies to the Holy Mountain," replied Mosiah, very surprised, for Joram had never been so interested in a thing. "Then they have a wake. Some say, though, that sometimes the parents hide the babies from the Catalyst Saints. But it seems to me that it would be kinder to let the babies die early. You Can you imagine a future for these babies? Living like that? Living lifeless?" "No." Joran replied with a very reluctant tone.He picked up the branch and threw it far away. Then, his eyes dimmed, and he repeated thoughtfully: "No, it is impossible to imagine." Mosiah looked at his friend, wondering uneasily the reason for Joram's sudden interest in this unpleasant subject.Mosiah seemed to see a shadow surrounding Joram.The shadows were so thick that the young man almost looked up to see if a dark cloud had just drifted over and covered the sun.His friend always fell into his own weird and gloomy mood from time to time. At this time, Qiao Lang would lock himself in the cabin, and Anya came over arrogantly to report the news of Qiao Ran's illness to the supervisor. Once, Mosiah was so worried about his friend that he found time to sneak behind Joram's cabin and look in through the window.He saw Joram lying on all fours, motionless under the hammock, staring at the ceiling.Mosiah tapped on the glass, but Joram was deaf and did not even respond.Mosiah slipped back to Joram's house again that night, only to find him lying on the ground in the same position.Joram had called in sick for a day or two, and when he finally returned to work, his usual sullen and indifferent expression was still on his face. But Mosiah noticed something that no one else, not even Anya, had noticed; Joram always worked very hard every time he recovered from his dark, lifeless situation.That day, from the beginning to the end of work, Qiao Lang did the work for three people alone. After exhausting himself, he almost walked home directly and fell asleep. Joram stood there, deep, gloomy thoughts surrounding him.Based on the keen sense and intuition cultivated by dealing with Joram in the past few years, Mosiah has always been with Joram.He knew, in every way, that Joram needed him. He stood beside Joram, barely daring to breathe, watching as Joram wrestled with the demon inside him.Mosiah studied him intently, trying as usual to see through the heavily guarded fortress in his heart. By the time Joram was sixteen years old, he had grown a strong, muscular body from hard work in the fields every day.The originally handsome and intimidating appearance in childhood has been roughly chiseled and trimmed. Just like his father who has been turned into a stone statue, Joran's inner suffering and pain are also clearly portrayed on his face. His fair skin as a child had been tanned to a glossy brown from long hours of working in the sun.The thickened black eyebrows split across the face like a black line, sinking slightly at the top of the bridge of the nose, which made his expression always look rough and fierce.The smooth and childish round cheeks are deeply sunken into mounds, highlighting the high cheekbones and prominent jaw.Those big, beautiful eyes with their rich, bright brown color and thick, long lashes, which had been the crowd's amazement, now contained so much anger, somberness, and suspicion that anyone who stood under those intimidating gazes for too long would immediately feel worrying and nervous. The only thing that has been preserved since childhood is Joran's beautiful long hair.Joram's mother never allowed him to cut his hair.Occasionally, someone would work up the courage to peek through the window of the cabin at night and watch Anya comb Joram's hair.They whispered in awe of the waist-length hair, and the black curls that fell over Joram's shoulders. Although Joram didn't admit it, his hair had become what he was most proud of.At work, he always wears his hair tied up in a long braid that hangs down his back, in stark contrast to the chin-length haircuts of other young people who are sloppily trimmed.The picture of Joran sitting on a chair and letting Anya comb his hair inspired many people to make up stories. Some people even said that they saw a spider with a comb forming a black web on the young man's head. This image has been kept in Mosiah's mind, but what he saw was Joram weaving black spider webs surrounding him.Suddenly Joram looked up and turned to his friend. "Come with me," he said. Mosiah was startled, and a chill ran through his veins, but Joram's expression was extremely clear, the shadow was gone, and the black spider web had long been torn. "Okay." Mosiah felt that Joran seemed to be in a good mood, so he answered more comfortably.He followed the tall young man. "Where to?" But Joram didn't answer him, he took a big stride and pushed forward.There was a strange, wistful look of excitement on his face, in stark contrast to the gloomy, sullen look on his face, like the sun finally peeking out from the clouds. They walked on and on, through the woodlands that the mages had worked so hard to carve out of the wilderness.After a while, the two left the workplace.The trees grew thicker as the two of them went deeper into the woodland; the ground was covered with weeds and was almost impassable, and on several occasions Mosiah had to use magic to carve a way, and he realized that what little mana he had left had been exhausted. Almost exhausted.With a natural sense of direction, he knew very well where the two were, and he was even more sure of this when he heard an ominous omen sound-they heard the sound of the rolling river. Mosiah slowed down, looking around nervously. "Joran." He reached out to touch his partner's shoulder, noting that Joram, who was still in a state of excitement, did not pat his arm away as he did so. "Joran, we're almost at the river." Joram didn't answer him, he just walked on. "Joran, what are you doing? Where are you going?" said Mosiah, feeling his throat constrict suddenly. Mosiah finally blocked the young man, clutching his shoulders, expecting to be rejected coldly at any moment.But Joram, feeling his touch, simply turned his head and gazed at Mosiah carefully. "Come with me, let's go and see that small river, and see what's on the other side of the river." His black eyes sparkled. Mosiah licked his lips, which were dry and chapped after a long walk in the afternoon sun.This is great!Just when he thought he had finally seen a crack slowly begin to form in the stony fortress of Joram's heart, perhaps enough to let through a glimmer of light, now he had to close the crack with his own hands. "We can't go there, Joram, that's the border, and if we go any further, it's a land of alienation. No one will go there." Moxie said calmly, with a disgusting sense of desperation hitting his heart. "But you've spoken to people from there, I know you have." Joram's tone revealed a strange eagerness. Mosiah's face turned red. "How do you know? Never mind that," he muttered. "I didn't talk to them, they talked to me. And... I don't like...the things they say." Mosiah grabbed Joram by the shoulders and tugged him gently. "Go home, Joram. Why would you want to go there..." "I must get out of here!" replied Joram with sudden intensity and enthusiasm. "I must get out of here!" "Joran," said Mosiah desperately, trying to figure out what could stop him, and began to wonder how this crazy idea had jumped into Joram's head. "You can't leave. Stop and think about it! Your mother—" As soon as these four words were mentioned, Qiao Lang's face suddenly became blank. Although there was no shadow covering him, the light that originally shone on the clear face also disappeared.His face was like a stone, cold and blank. Shrugging his shoulders and wrenching free from Mosiah's grip, he turned and rushed into the bushes, seemingly oblivious to whether his friend followed. Mosiah followed Joram heartbroken.The cracks disappeared, and the stone fortress became stronger and more durable than before.Until now, he didn't know why.
At the age of eight, Joram started working in the fields with other children.Children's work is not difficult, the hours are long and tiring, but they work the same hours as adults.They are assigned to some tedious tasks, such as clearing the stones in the field, or carefully collecting the parasites and other insects in their allocated area with the assistance of adults, so as to help the crops in the field to grow smoothly and nourish the body. food. Catalyst saints will not grant any life force to the children, which will not only be superfluous, but also waste precious life force, so the children always walk in the field instead of floating; many children who already have enough life force are still They can use magic to make stones fly into the air, or make wingless insects float on the crops. They always secretly hold some impromptu magic competitions when the supervisors or catalyst saints are not paying attention. Have some fun.On these rare occasions Joram was invariably urged or induced by the others to demonstrate his magic skills, and he easily made it seem that he was different from the others, by tricks of deception which he grew more and more proficient at. Comparable.Because of this, no one paid special attention to him. In fact, most of the time, the other children would not invite Joram to play, and few liked him.He was serious, above all others, and always suspicious of all offers of friendship that were extended to him. "Don't let anyone get close to you, son," Anya told him. "They won't understand you, they will be afraid of anything they don't understand. As long as they are afraid, they will destroy everything that scares them." After being coldly and flatly rejected by the strange black-haired kid, one by one all the kids kept their distance from Joram.But there is still a little boy who never gives up showing kindness to him, and this little boy is Mosiah.He is the son of a high-ranking serf mage, smart and outgoing, and he has a talent for magic that is different from ordinary people--Father Touben also noticed this, and someone has heard him mention that when Mosiah grows up, he should use He was sent to the guild to make a living. Charming, outgoing, and popular, Mosiah had no idea why Joram was so drawn to him, perhaps, like a magnet to steel.Whatever the reason, Mosiah never gave up on Joram's categorical refusal to approach him. Mosiah approached Joram whenever he could while working in the fields, and he often sat next to him during the lunch break, rambling on without saying a word, never expecting or asking for anything from the taciturn little boy sitting beside him. In response, this friendship between them may seem to be a one-way, futile one-of course, Joram never responded to him in any positive way.Occasionally, Mosiah would be interrupted abruptly, but Mosiah felt that Joram was still willing to accept his company, so he continued to maintain the friendship between the two, slowly peeling off Joram and building it up like a costume. He has the illusion of being tall and hard like his father's stone skin.
Valen Village has lived peacefully with the villagers for several years, and the four seasons are harmonious and intertwined.Although, the atmospheric mages of the Sihana tribe occasionally have to adjust some unexpected weather conditions that did not go according to plan. With the harmony and interweaving of the four seasons, the pace of life of the serf mages also changed.Spring plowing, summer weeding, autumn harvesting, and in winter, villagers struggle to survive, waiting for the arrival of the next spring, and then the whole cycle repeats countless times.Although their lives are monotonous, heavy, and poor, the serf mages of Varen always consider themselves a lucky group, and everyone knows that the situation may be worse.The overseer is a just and fair person who ensures that everyone gets their share of the harvest and never takes money from others for their own.Bandits who plunder northern villages are unheard of here.And the winter, which is the worst disaster of the year, is cold and long, but compared with other places in the north, it is still more than enough and more than enough. Even the remote village of Valen received some news about uprisings and resistance.In fact, some privately asked the villagers if they wanted to declare independence, but Mosiah's father was content with the status quo.He knew from past experience that freedom is a good thing, but someone has to pay for it. Therefore, he immediately drew a line with the outsiders and made it clear that he and the villagers just wanted to stay out of it. The foreman of Waren Village also considers himself very lucky. He has never failed his superiors' expectations and can always pay generous tribute every year. He also doesn't have to worry about riots and uprisings that are rumored to have occurred in other places.The overseer knew of the clandestine contacts and meetings between the villagers and the rioters and agitators, but he and the villagers had already reached a labor agreement that was beneficial to both; Close one eye. Father Toben, the catalyst saint, does not consider himself a lucky man. He finds it increasingly difficult for him to use the little spare time left in his austere and hard life to continue his research work.To be recognized by others again, and to return to the group of church members slowly became an almost impossible dream in his heart.His crime--the sin that had brought him down to the rank of village saint--was a petty fault of youthful indiscretion, his fault for writing a treatise, nothing more.Papers were published in the books On the Wonders of Natural Weather Cycles, Against Magical Intervention, and Ode to Pastoral Crops.It's a wonderful piece of writing, and he's honored to have it in the inner library of the Holy Mountain, at least, that's what they say before they assign him a new job and throw him out .He wasn't quite sure if his thesis was actually stored in the Inner Library, since he hadn't been able to go back to the Holy Mountain to check it out since then. The seasons are changing, the sun and the moon are flying back and forth, and the supervisor pays the annual tribute every year as usual. Father Toben continues to chase the dream that is fading day by day.Life hasn't changed much for Joram, but it's getting darker. Fifteen years after she settled in the farm, Anya still wore the same clothes.The original gorgeous weavers of the dress were left with only some tattered and ragged rags, supported by Anya's own magical power.The evening story time is still ceremonial, but now filled with tales of the beauty of Merilon.Although, as the years passed, Anya's stories became more and more confusing and contradictory, and she always fell into the illusion that she was already in Malilong when she told the story.From her absurd narrative, Merilon City seemed to be some combination of a beautiful garden and a terrifying abyss.As for who it was, it all depended on where the crazy thoughts led her. Regarding returning to Merilon, when Joram grows up, he finally understands that Anya's dreams are as ragged as the clothes she wears.He could have regarded Anya's stories as fantasies, but there seemed to be some real fragments in her stories, hanging on her body like those once noble and gorgeous rags. Joram's life was harsh and difficult, and he had to struggle every day to survive.He watched his mother go mad quickly; her eyes more and more like Joram's father, turned to stone, always fixed on the dark realm of nothingness in the distance.He silently accepted the fact that his mother had gone mad, as he accepted other sufferings. But there was only one pain that Joram could not bear: until now he knew nothing of magic.Day after day, he became more and more proficient at deception, and his deception tricked everyone, including the always cautious supervisor.But no matter how much he wished and begged every morning, he still couldn't feel any magic burning in his soul. When Joram was fifteen, he stopped asking Anya when she would gain magical powers. Deep in his heart, Joram already knew the answer.
As the children grew stronger, the work assigned to them grew heavy and difficult; the older boys and the younger were given some heavy and laborious work, so that they would be exhausted and have no mind to think about anything.Rumors pointed out that these big boys and young people were always causing trouble among the serf mages. Although the supervisor thought that what he did would not cause complaints and dissatisfaction from the villagers, he was not willing to be blind because of it.So, whenever he was going to start a new farm, he always gave the job of clearing the land to all the young people, it was a hard job, they had to remove or burn all the undergrowth, remove the big rocks , removing all the weeds that covered the ground, plus a bunch of other backbreaking heavy work.Then, other serf mages with higher status and more privileges, with the help of the druids of the Fehanishu branch, will use magic to persuade the big tree to uproot itself, and then replant themselves in other places.The young people have to drag the dead trees back to the village to collect them and place them in designated places.Several times a year, the winged messengers sent by the wizards of the Boalban tribe will regularly transport these timbers back to the city. All this labor work has to be done with bare hands, and the catalyst saints never give the young man the life force to do it.Even Mosiah, who is deeply gifted in magic, is often too tired to perform magic.There is a reason for doing this. The supervisor wants to break down the high ambitions of the young people, and then mold them into ordinary serf mages who follow the rules like their parents. As for the tools... Once, when Joram couldn't stand the heavy work of pushing boulders off the ground with his bare hands, an idea popped into his mind.He picked up a branch, placed it under a boulder, and used the branch's lever to move the stone.Just as Joram was pushing against the branch beneath the boulder, Mosiah grabbed him by the arm with a look of horror on his face. "Joran, what are you doing?" "What? What am I doing?" Joram growled impatiently, pushing Mosiah's hand away.He doesn't like others to touch him. "I'm trying to figure out how to move this big rock!" "The boulder moves because you transmit life force to the branch!" said Mosiah. "You transmit the power of life to something that has no life power of its own!" Joram stared at the branch, brow furrowed. "so what?" "Qiao Lang, only those demon craftsmen would do this! Only those who are familiar with the way of darkness would do such a thing!" Mosiah whispered in surprise. Joram laughed mockingly. "You mean the so-called dark way is just moving stones with branches? People are so afraid of these people, I thought at least they had the habit of sacrificing babies—" "Don't say such things, Joram." Mosiah hissed Joram back, and he looked around nervously. "They deny magic, and they also deny the power of life. They destroy everything by means of darkness. During the Iron War, they really almost destroyed the entire world!" "You're crazy, why would they want to destroy the world and themselves?" Joram muttered. "According to some people, if they are already the living dead themselves, then there is nothing to lose." "'Already a living dead'? What do you mean?" Joram asked Mosiah in a low voice, avoiding his eyes.Joram looked at the boulder through the matted black hair on his face. "Sometimes some babies are not born with life force," said Mosiah, looking at Joram in a little surprise. "Haven't you heard? I thought your mother told you these things—" Mosiah stopped suddenly in embarrassment. "No," replied Joram in his usual low, expressionless voice, though his face suddenly paled, and the hand that was holding the branch tightened suddenly. Accidentally mentioning Anya, Mosiah couldn't help kicking himself in the heart. He continued as usual, saying to Qiao Lang who was silent and did not respond: "After birth, we will all undergo testing rituals. And some Sometimes, some babies will fail the test, which means that there is no life force in them." "What are they going to do with . "The Catalyst Saints will take these babies to the Holy Mountain," replied Mosiah, very surprised, for Joram had never been so interested in a thing. "Then they have a wake. Some say, though, that sometimes the parents hide the babies from the Catalyst Saints. But it seems to me that it would be kinder to let the babies die early. You Can you imagine a future for these babies? Living like that? Living lifeless?" "No." Joran replied with a very reluctant tone.He picked up the branch and threw it far away. Then, his eyes dimmed, and he repeated thoughtfully: "No, it is impossible to imagine." Mosiah looked at his friend, wondering uneasily the reason for Joram's sudden interest in this unpleasant subject.Mosiah seemed to see a shadow surrounding Joram.The shadows were so thick that the young man almost looked up to see if a dark cloud had just drifted over and covered the sun.His friend always fell into his own weird and gloomy mood from time to time. At this time, Qiao Lang would lock himself in the cabin, and Anya came over arrogantly to report the news of Qiao Ran's illness to the supervisor. Once, Mosiah was so worried about his friend that he found time to sneak behind Joram's cabin and look in through the window.He saw Joram lying on all fours, motionless under the hammock, staring at the ceiling.Mosiah tapped on the glass, but Joram was deaf and did not even respond.Mosiah slipped back to Joram's house again that night, only to find him lying on the ground in the same position.Joram had called in sick for a day or two, and when he finally returned to work, his usual sullen and indifferent expression was still on his face. But Mosiah noticed something that no one else, not even Anya, had noticed; Joram always worked very hard every time he recovered from his dark, lifeless situation.That day, from the beginning to the end of work, Qiao Lang did the work for three people alone. After exhausting himself, he almost walked home directly and fell asleep. Joram stood there, deep, gloomy thoughts surrounding him.Based on the keen sense and intuition cultivated by dealing with Joram in the past few years, Mosiah has always been with Joram.He knew, in every way, that Joram needed him. He stood beside Joram, barely daring to breathe, watching as Joram wrestled with the demon inside him.Mosiah studied him intently, trying as usual to see through the heavily guarded fortress in his heart. By the time Joram was sixteen years old, he had grown a strong, muscular body from hard work in the fields every day.The originally handsome and intimidating appearance in childhood has been roughly chiseled and trimmed. Just like his father who has been turned into a stone statue, Joran's inner suffering and pain are also clearly portrayed on his face. His fair skin as a child had been tanned to a glossy brown from long hours of working in the sun.The thickened black eyebrows split across the face like a black line, sinking slightly at the top of the bridge of the nose, which made his expression always look rough and fierce.The smooth and childish round cheeks are deeply sunken into mounds, highlighting the high cheekbones and prominent jaw.Those big, beautiful eyes with their rich, bright brown color and thick, long lashes, which had been the crowd's amazement, now contained so much anger, somberness, and suspicion that anyone who stood under those intimidating gazes for too long would immediately feel worrying and nervous. The only thing that has been preserved since childhood is Joran's beautiful long hair.Joram's mother never allowed him to cut his hair.Occasionally, someone would work up the courage to peek through the window of the cabin at night and watch Anya comb Joram's hair.They whispered in awe of the waist-length hair, and the black curls that fell over Joram's shoulders. Although Joram didn't admit it, his hair had become what he was most proud of.At work, he always wears his hair tied up in a long braid that hangs down his back, in stark contrast to the chin-length haircuts of other young people who are sloppily trimmed.The picture of Joran sitting on a chair and letting Anya comb his hair inspired many people to make up stories. Some people even said that they saw a spider with a comb forming a black web on the young man's head. This image has been kept in Mosiah's mind, but what he saw was Joram weaving black spider webs surrounding him.Suddenly Joram looked up and turned to his friend. "Come with me," he said. Mosiah was startled, and a chill ran through his veins, but Joram's expression was extremely clear, the shadow was gone, and the black spider web had long been torn. "Okay." Mosiah felt that Joran seemed to be in a good mood, so he answered more comfortably.He followed the tall young man. "Where to?" But Joram didn't answer him, he took a big stride and pushed forward.There was a strange, wistful look of excitement on his face, in stark contrast to the gloomy, sullen look on his face, like the sun finally peeking out from the clouds. They walked on and on, through the woodlands that the mages had worked so hard to carve out of the wilderness.After a while, the two left the workplace.The trees grew thicker as the two of them went deeper into the woodland; the ground was covered with weeds and was almost impassable, and on several occasions Mosiah had to use magic to carve a way, and he realized that what little mana he had left had been exhausted. Almost exhausted.With a natural sense of direction, he knew very well where the two were, and he was even more sure of this when he heard an ominous omen sound-they heard the sound of the rolling river. Mosiah slowed down, looking around nervously. "Joran." He reached out to touch his partner's shoulder, noting that Joram, who was still in a state of excitement, did not pat his arm away as he did so. "Joran, we're almost at the river." Joram didn't answer him, he just walked on. "Joran, what are you doing? Where are you going?" said Mosiah, feeling his throat constrict suddenly. Mosiah finally blocked the young man, clutching his shoulders, expecting to be rejected coldly at any moment.But Joram, feeling his touch, simply turned his head and gazed at Mosiah carefully. "Come with me, let's go and see that small river, and see what's on the other side of the river." His black eyes sparkled. Mosiah licked his lips, which were dry and chapped after a long walk in the afternoon sun.This is great!Just when he thought he had finally seen a crack slowly begin to form in the stony fortress of Joram's heart, perhaps enough to let through a glimmer of light, now he had to close the crack with his own hands. "We can't go there, Joram, that's the border, and if we go any further, it's a land of alienation. No one will go there." Moxie said calmly, with a disgusting sense of desperation hitting his heart. "But you've spoken to people from there, I know you have." Joram's tone revealed a strange eagerness. Mosiah's face turned red. "How do you know? Never mind that," he muttered. "I didn't talk to them, they talked to me. And... I don't like...the things they say." Mosiah grabbed Joram by the shoulders and tugged him gently. "Go home, Joram. Why would you want to go there..." "I must get out of here!" replied Joram with sudden intensity and enthusiasm. "I must get out of here!" "Joran," said Mosiah desperately, trying to figure out what could stop him, and began to wonder how this crazy idea had jumped into Joram's head. "You can't leave. Stop and think about it! Your mother—" As soon as these four words were mentioned, Qiao Lang's face suddenly became blank. Although there was no shadow covering him, the light that originally shone on the clear face also disappeared.His face was like a stone, cold and blank. Shrugging his shoulders and wrenching free from Mosiah's grip, he turned and rushed into the bushes, seemingly oblivious to whether his friend followed. Mosiah followed Joram heartbroken.The cracks disappeared, and the stone fortress became stronger and more durable than before.Until now, he didn't know why.