Chapter 16 Chapter Thirteen Saryon's Punishment
Seventeen years ago, Saryon committed the felony of reading forbidden books.Seventeen years ago he was brought to Merilon.Seventeen years ago, the prince passed away.When Saryon was summoned again to Bishop Vanya's room on the holy mountain, the people of Merilon and the nearby small kingdom city-states had just finished their mournful commemorative festival.
When the summons came on the dark day of remembrance, terrible and unhappy memories flooded Saryon's mind again, and he was unconsciously frightened and disturbed by it.Every year he returns to the Holy Mountain from the cathedral monastery where he lives, just to escape the melancholy anniversary.Every year on this day, he recalls his shattered hopes and dreams, and the Queen's agonized mourning.But none of it compared to what Saryon had seen, the reactions of parents who learned their children had been declared dead.
Saryon always managed to return to the Holy Mountain on this day, if his duties permitted.He felt relieved here, because in the holy mountain, it was not allowed to mention the death of the prince, let alone commemorate the day as a holiday.Bishop Vanya forbade all commemorations, which seemed strange to all.
"Old man Vanya really hates this festival very much." Deacon Doques said to Saryon, and the two walked along the quiet and peaceful corridor in the holy mountain.
"It's not all his fault," Saryon replied, shaking his head and sighing.
Dorches sneered contemptuously.He is still only a deacon at the age of 10, and he knows that he will undoubtedly grow old in the post of deacon. He has no regrets for his outspokenness—even on the holy mountain where it is said that there are ears, eyes, and even mouths everywhere, he insists on not changing. True color.It was mainly due to the intervention of the nobleman who raised him-the old Baron Jasdar-that Dorches was not sent to the fields.
"Fuck you! It's okay to let the empress be extravagant once in a while. The scale of the festival is still small, and the gods have seen it. Have you ever heard that Vanya discouraged the emperor from declaring this day as a memorial day?"
"No way!" Saryon's expression was shocked.
Dorches nodded, complacent about his inside information, and he knew all the court social rumors like the back of his hand. "Vanya told the emperor that it is an unforgivable crime to declare the birthday of a cursed child of the living dead as a festival."
"Then the emperor rejected him?"
"Didn't they put on a bunch of weeping gray-blue curtains in Merillon again this year?" asked Dorches, rubbing his head. "That's right, the emperor was brave enough to defy our His Excellency, even if it made His Excellency rush out angrily, and until now he has refused to approach the court."
"I can't believe it," Saryon mumbled.
"Please, Fanya won't vomit with the emperor for too long, he's just pretending. In the end, Fanya will be the big winner, I don't doubt that at all. Just wait and see, what happens next time, The emperor will just happily let Vanya decide, they'll negotiate everything, and then Vanya will just have to wait for the next year to perform again."
"That's not what I meant." Saryon looked around anxiously.Dorches also noticed a silent black-robed lawman standing in the corridor ahead, his face hidden in the depths of his hood, his hands folded neatly across his chest.Dorches snorted again, but Saryon saw him avoid the corridor and turn in the other direction. "I mean, I can't believe the emperor would turn against him."
"Of course, it's all because of the queen." Dorches said, nodding as if knowing a lot, and lowered his voice after glancing at the law enforcement officer. "She wanted to commemorate the day, so the emperor did, and I can't imagine what the emperor would do if one day she said she wanted to go to the moon. Then again, you should know that, you've been Isn't it the palace?"
"No, not many times," Saryon admitted.
"I seldom go to the palace in Merilon!" Dorches glanced at Saryon with interested eyes.
"Look at me," Saryon said, blushing and raising his big, clumsy hands. "I don't get along with rich and beautiful people at all. You also saw what happened in the ceremony seventeen years ago, when I got the color of my robes mixed up? I've known since then There is absolutely no way I can get the color of the robe right! If the color of the robe is supposed to be burnt apricot, I will definitely get the color into a rotten peach red. Oh, you are laughing at me, but what I said is true. All in all, I give up To change the color of my robes according to etiquette. For me, it is easier to wear plain and ordinary robes that match my class and priesthood."
"I dare say you're all the rage in society!" said Dorches bitterly.
"Ha, isn't it!" Saryon replied, shrugging and smiling bitterly. "You know what they call me behind my back—Father Calculus. All because the only thing I can talk to is math." Dorches snorted. "I know, I bore them to the point of tears, and some of them disappear because of it, and once a certain earl shrunk before my eyes. He didn't mean it. It's really pitiful to think about him. He almost Feeling ashamed, and kept apologizing to me, but after all, he is old—"
"Actually, as long as you work hard..."
"I tried, I really tried. I schmoozed with other people and attended carnivals." Saryon sighed. "But that's really hard. I think I'm getting really old. In Merilon, I'm in bed two hours before everyone else wants to sit down and start eating dinner." He looked around with a soft magical halo stone wall glance. "I like living in Merilon, as it was seventeen years ago, the scenery there is still foreign to me, and I am amazed, but my heart is always here, Dorches. I hope to continue my research , I need references here, like a new formula I'm working on right now, though I'm not sure about some of the magic theories involved. Listen, my new formula actually looks like this—"
Dorches coughed.
"Ah, really. I'm sorry." Saryon smiled. "I turned into a calculation-crazy priest again, I know, I'm too keen on research. Anyway, I plan to apply to be transferred back here, and then I was summoned by Bishop Vanya..." Saryon's expression was suddenly clouded. A shade.
"Be happy, don't be so frightened," said Doques nonchalantly. "Maybe he just wanted to mourn Lingtang's death. Then, although it is unlikely, maybe he will personally invite you back to the holy mountain. After all, you are different from me. You have always been a good baby, and you are obedient every time. Eat vegetables, and so on. Don't worry about those people in the palace, there is no doubt that even if you are a boring person, my friend, you can't make the emperor bored to death." Dorches glanced sharply. To Saryon who turned away. "You obediently eat green vegetables, right?"
"Yes, of course." Saryon replied immediately, with a gloomy and defeated smile on his face. "You're right, maybe it's the same as what you said." Saryon looked at Dorches, and found that he was staring at himself curiously.The burden of guilt once again hit Saryon's heart heavily.He suddenly felt that he could no longer stay by the shrewd and keen Deacon's side. He said goodbye to the suspicious Deacon and left quickly, leaving Dorches in the same place with a grimace-like smile, watching Saryon leave.
"I wish I knew what rat was crawling in your inner closet, old friend, and I'm not the first to wonder why you were sent to Merilon seventeen years ago. Never mind, whatever it is The reason, good luck to you. From His Excellency's point of view, seventeen years is no different from seventeen minutes, no matter what you do, he will never forget it, and he will never forgive everything." Dorches shook his head and sighed, Turn around and return to duty.
Leaving Dorches, Saryon fled to the heavenly library, where he had no fear of being disturbed by others.But he did not continue his research.Saryon buried himself under a pile of scrolls, hiding from the eyes of anyone who might pass by.The priest put his arms around his ordained bald head, feeling as miserable as he had been seventeen years earlier when he had been summoned by the bishop. Over the past few years he had had numerous opportunities to see the bishop in person, who chose to stay in the cathedral cloister on each of his visits to Merilon, but Saryon had not spoken to the bishop since that fateful day. Excuse me. It wasn't that the Bishop avoided him, or was cold to him, absolutely not.On the contrary, Saryon received a letter full of sympathy and love when his mother passed away. The letter expressed the bishop's deepest sympathy and assured him that his mother would be buried with Saryon's father in the holy mountain. One of the most noble tombs.The Bishop even tried to approach him at the funeral, but Saryon disguised himself in deep grief and turned his back on Vanya. The presence of the bishop always disturbed him, perhaps because Saryon still could not forgive the fact that His Excellency had previously pronounced the death sentence on the little prince.Or maybe it was because whenever he looked at Vanya, he could only see his own past sins.He committed a heinous crime when he was twenty-five years old. He is forty-two years old this year, but he always feels that these seventeen years are longer than his previous twenty-five-year-old life!What he told Dorches about his life in the social circle was only partially true; he simply couldn't get along with the others, and they did see him as a hopeless nuisance.But this is not the reason why Saryon avoids Merilon. He found that the beautiful and carnival life of the social circle was just an illusion.For example, Saryon watched day by day as the Queen withered and died from some chronic disease that the healers were helpless.Everyone knew she was dead, but no one discussed it.Of course, no one discussed the matter in front of the emperor.He would report every night how his beloved wife looked better, or talk about how the spring breath conjured up by Sihana mages had helped improve the condition (in Merilon City, spring has lasted As long as a year), everyone in the DPRK nodded in agreement.Numerous maids under the Queen's command painted her gray cheeks or changed the color of her pupils from time to time. "She looks really radiant, Your Majesty. She has become even more beautiful. Never seen her in such good spirits, Your Majesty, did you, Your Majesty?" However, the maids couldn't add flesh to her thin sunken cheeks, or slightly extinguish the fiery light in her eyes.The whispers in the palace became: "What do you think will happen to him after she dies? The succession to the throne is in the woman's family. Her younger brother, the next heir to the throne, has come to visit. Have you been formally introduced by him? Let It may be wise for me to introduce you." Of all the beauties and phantasms of Merilon, the only thing that seemed real seemed to be the Bishop of Vanya—he went about his work, raised a finger to call someone here, waved to something there, led, controlled With everything, always be strict with yourself. But seventeen years ago, Saryon had seen him tremble once.Several times he couldn't help wondering what secret Vanya was hiding, and he seemed to be able to hear the bishop's words again: I can tell you the reason—but his words were interrupted by a sigh, his expression gradually became serious, and he did it coldly. Decide.No, you must obey my instructions without any doubts. A monk appeared before Saryon and touched him lightly on the shoulder.Saryon was taken aback. How long had the boy been standing there without him noticing? "Yes, brother? What's the matter?" "I'm sorry to disturb you, Father, but they have sent me to take you to the bishop's office, if it is convenient for you." "Okay, now—er—just take me." Saryon stood up happily.It is said that even the emperor himself did not dare to keep Bishop Fanya waiting for a long time.
"Father Saryon, come in, come in." Van Ya stood up, waving his hands enthusiastically.His voice sounded enthusiastic, but it sounded forced to Saryon's ears, and the bishop seemed to be trying very hard to keep the warm flame of hospitality alive. Saryon knelt down and kissed the edge of the bishop's robe. He couldn't help but painfully and clearly recalled the situation when he saluted seventeen years ago. Perhaps Bishop Vanya also remembered all this. "No, don't do this, Saryon." Van Ya said happily, and he took the priest's hand. "We can omit the red tape. Let's salute according to the rules in public. This is just a secret private party." Saryon looked at Van Ya with sharp eyes, and he could hear the meaning behind the bishop's tone. "I—I am very honored, Your Excellency, to be summoned here to meet you—" Saryon was a little puzzled. "Deacon, there is someone I want to introduce to you." Bishop Fanya interrupted Saryon smoothly, and continued on his own. Saryon turned, startled to see another person in the room. "This is Father Torben, he is the resident saint stationed in Valen Village." Fan Ya said. "Father Toben, I have seen Father Saryon." "Father Toben." Saryon bowed respectfully. "May God's blessing be with you." No wonder Saryon hadn't noticed this man when he first entered the room.Dark, withered, and haggard, the village saint almost disappeared into the wooden furniture of the room, which looked as if it had grown there in the first place. "Deacon Saryon," muttered Touben, curtseying nervously, his eyes darting from Saryon to Vanya and back to Saryon, his hands tugging at his unpretentious, mud-covered body The sleeves of the tattered green robes printed on him. "Two, please sit down first." Fan Ya said kindly, waving to the chair.Saryon noticed that the resident saint waited a while to make sure he was included in the bishop's invitation—Saryon guessed that was what he thought.The situation suddenly became tricky, because according to protocol, Saryon could not sit down before the resident saints sat down.He was about to sit down when he noticed Torben was still standing, forcing him to stand up again.It just so happened that Torben finally decided that he could sit down, but when the resident saint saw Saryon standing up again, he jumped up and stood up again, his face flushed with embarrassment.This time Bishop Fanya finally came forward to mediate, and he repeated the previous invitation in a cheerful but firm tone. Saryon stretched out on the chair, relieved, and the image of himself jumping up and down around the chair all afternoon came to his mind. Vanya asked if they wanted something to drink, but both Saryon and Toben declined politely, and they chatted politely about some difficulties encountered during spring plowing and this year's bumper harvest.The tense-looking saints stationed in the village weakly responded to the bishop, and the tone of the answer revealed a little confusion. Bishop Fanya finally got to the point. "Father Torben has a very unusual story to tell you, Deacon Saryon." Van Ya said, maintaining the original cheerful tone, as if the three of them were just ordinary old friends chatting about family matters.Saryon's tense mood relaxed a little, but he was even more confused why he was summoned to Vanya's private office—a place he hadn't set foot in for seventeen years—to listen to a Resident saints tell stories?He looked at Fan Ya suddenly, only to find that Fan Ya was looking at himself with a cold expression that knew everything already. Saryon immediately turned his gaze to the resident saint, who took a deep breath just as he was about to jump into the icy water.Saryon began to pay attention to what the skinny priest said. Although Bishop Vanya's expression was as calm as usual, Saryon saw a small muscle in his jaw twitching.He remembered that he had seen the same expression appear on Van Ya's face during the ceremony held for the dead prince. Father Touben began to talk about what he had seen, and Saryon found that he didn't need to force himself to listen at all. He was absorbed in Touben's story, which was the first time he heard Joram's story. The Catalyst Saint went through a range of emotions, from shock to outrage and loathing, as did others who heard the horrifying, dark truth.But at the same time, Saryon felt a entanglement of internal organs and a deep-penetrating fear, which spread from the depths of his heart to his whole body.He shivered all over, curled up in his soft robes. What am I afraid of?he asked himself.Now here I am, sitting in the bishop's elegant office, listening to the words of this dry old resident saint, Chichiaiai, what could go wrong?It was not until later that Saryon remembered the look in the Bishop's eyes as he heard the story.Only later did he understand why he was trembling with fear.In fact, at the time he saw only this visceral shuddering fear as something many people enjoy listening to bedside stories about dead creatures that stalk the night. "When the law enforcement officers arrive," Father Torpen concluded tragically. "The young man had been gone for many hours. They chased him beyond the lands, until it was clear that he was lost in the wilderness. We could see his tracks disappearing beyond the border of the deserted, They also found the centaur's footprints. There was nothing they could do, in fact they assumed he had passed away, for it is known that very few men who venture into that land return, and that is my report. " Van Ya frowned, the face of the catalyst saint turned red, and he lowered his head. "I—I was too rash, as far as my judgment was concerned at the time, because now a year later—" "That's enough, Father Torben." Bishop Van Ya said, his tone still cheerful. But the resident saints were not fooled.He clenched his hands into fists and looked down at the floor in dismay.Saryon knew the poor man must be thinking that after this unfortunate accident, he was destined to be a saint in the village for life.But that was never Saryon's problem, nor was it why he had been summoned to hear this tale of madness and murder.He stared at Bishop Vanya in confusion again, hoping to find some answers, but Vanya didn't look at Saryon, nor did he look at the poor resident saint.The bishop seemed to turn a blind eye to everything, he pursed his lips tightly, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, it was obvious that he was wrestling with an invisible enemy in his heart.Finally, he stopped struggling - or so it seemed at last - and turned to Saryon, his expression calm again. "What a shock, Deacon." "Yes, Your Excellency." Saryon replied, still feeling that trembling feeling crawling up his back. The stubby fingertips were close together, and the bishop slapped each other gracefully in turn. "On several occasions over the past few years we have found children of the living dead who were still alive because their parents went astray, and when we discovered their whereabouts, their lives of pain and suffering were instantly relieved." Saryon shifted restlessly in his seat.He had heard rumors of it, and though he knew well the tormented lives these poor souls must have lived, he could not help wondering whether such drastic measures were really necessary.Obviously, his doubts showed on his face, so Van Ya frowned, turned his gaze to the innocent saints in the village, and opened his mouth to admonish. "You must know that we must not allow the living dead to walk on the ground." Van Ya said sternly to Father Torben. "Yes—yes, Your Excellency the Bishop." The catalyst saint stammered, cowering at the sudden injustice. "The life force, which is magic, comes from everything around us, the ground we walk on, the air we breathe, or other living things that grow and thrive to serve us... yes, even rock chimes and stones , these shattered remains of once majestic mountains also endow us with the power of life. We call upon this power and transmit it through our humble bodies, giving mages the ability to shape and transform raw materials into useful, beautiful substance." Vanya glared at the resident saint to make sure he was paying attention.The village saint who was at a loss and looked very painful could only swallow his saliva and nodded. The bishop went on: "Think of the life force as a bottle of pure, rich wine, the color, the taste, and the aroma—" He stretched out his hands. "—Every aspect is perfect, will you dilute this bottle of fine wine with water?" Fan Ya asked suddenly. "No, oh, no, Your Excellency!" cried Father Torpen. "But you let the living dead walk among us. Worse, you may let their seeds fall and germinate on fertile ground? Don't you see the weeds' vines have choked the life of the vines and die?" The resident saint trembled under the onslaught of sharp words, and he was almost reduced to a shriveled grape.His dark cheeks were drawn, his withered appearance contorted as he protested desperately that he had no intention of cultivating weeds.Vanya chattered freely with him, but his eyes drifted to Saryon.Saryon nodded.Of course, Fan Ya was reprimanding himself. For Fan Ya, it was not in accordance with the rules to scold a catalyst saint on the holy mountain in front of his subordinates, so Fan Ya chose this method to reprimand him.Confused memories of hiccupping babies and weeping parents flashed through Saryon's mind, but he faintly repressed them.As always, the Bishop is right, and Deacon Saryon is definitely not the one to dilute the wine. However, as he sat in the chair and looked at his hand, which was placed on the hem of his robe according to the ritual, he couldn't help wondering, what did the bishop mean by all this? With an abrupt gesture, Fan Ya immediately shut up the saint in the village, which was like uprooting him and then placing him on the ground to wither.The Bishop turned to Saryon. "Deacon Saryon, you must be wondering what this Joran story has to do with you. I will give you the answer now. I will assign you to hunt down Joran." Saryon could only stare wide-eyed in inexplicable horror, and now it was his turn to stutter.Father Touben was relieved, grateful to see the attention finally shifting from him. "But . . . Your Excellency, I—you said he was dead." "No—no," stammered Father Torpen, humbly. "I—that's what I said wrong..." "He's not dead, then?" Saryon said. "No, so you have to find him and bring him back." Van Ya replied. Saryon stared at Bishop Vanya, wondering what he could say.Because I'm not a lawman, because I don't know anything about apprehending dangerous criminals, because I'm old enough, because I'm a catalyst saint—synonymous with weak, defenseless. "Why did you choose me, Your Excellency the Bishop?" He finally asked feebly. Bishop Fanya smiled. Enduring the priest's confusion, he raised his feet and strolled to the window. He gestured with his hands behind his back, implying that the two subordinates who were about to jump up when he stood up continued to maintain their sitting positions. Saryon sat back on the upholstered chair, and at the same time tried to move his position to see Van Ya's expression when he spoke, but it was impossible as expected.The Bishop walked to the window and stood with his back to Saryon, looking down at the courtyard below. "You know, Deacon Saryon, this young man Joran brought us a very special problem. He did not die at the border as reported." He said in a pleasant and calm voice. He half turned around, carefully inspected the fabric of the curtains, and then glared at the curtains angrily.The face of the resident saint was pale, and he finally muttered: "There is a small problem." Van Ya continued calmly: "Some rumors heard by Father Torben afterward, let us believe that this young man participated in a self-proclaimed A group of reincarnation witches." Saryon aimed at Father Torben, hoping to find some clues, because the tone of Bishop Vanya was so timid when he mentioned this term, Saryon could only guess that he was the only one in Simharun who had never heard of this group people.But the saint in the village couldn't help at all, he seemed to shrink into the chair and disappeared. Getting no response from the priest, Van Ya turned his head sideways, his eyes drifting over his shoulders. "Haven't you heard of them, Father Saryon?" "No, Your Excellency." Saryon confessed. "Because I live a life of almost isolation...my research..." "No need to apologize." Van Ya interrupted him, clasped his hands behind his back, and turned to face Saryon. "In fact, I'd be surprised if you knew that, just as loving parents keep their children from knowledge of dark and evil things until they're old enough to handle advances and retreats wisely, so we A dark cloud of information is kept from the knowledge of the people. We carry the burden so that they can live with peace of mind. Oh, the people are not in danger." He saw Saryon raise his eyebrows warily. Add another sentence. "It's just because we don't want panic to interfere with Merilon's beautiful, peaceful life like it does in other kingdoms. In fact, Father Saryon, this witch cult—that is, the Ninth Branch—is dedicated to the study of dark crafts: technology." Again, Saryon felt the cold claws of fear grip him, and a shudder ran from his head to his feet. "A serf mage heard noises one night, so he got up and looked out of the window, and he saw Mosiah talking to a young man he was sure was Joram. He couldn't make out what they were saying , but he swore he had heard the words 'witch' and 'reincarnation', and he said that Mosiah kept retreating because of this, but his friend must have been very convincing, because Mosiah disappeared the next morning .” Saryon looked at Father Torben, and happened to catch a sneaky look at Vanya from the saint in the village.Vanya pretended not to see him, Torben looked at his fellow saints, and found Saryon looking at him, his cheeks flushed guiltily, and his eyes turned to his shoes. "Of course we already knew about the existence of this witch religion." Bishop Fanya frowned. "This cult is made up of outcasts or outcasts who think the world owes them their birth. Not only are the living dead among them, but thieves and robbers, debtors Fugitives, scoundrels, rebels... Now there is another murderer. From the kingdom of Saraken in the north to the kingdom of Jessair in the east, their members gather from all over the kingdom; their numbers continue to grow, Whilst the Warlords of Fire could have easily dealt with them, going there and taking the young man by force would surely lead to an armed conflict that would leave many talking, worried and unfounded. We must not allow this to happen, At least not now, the political situation in the court is in a very fragile state of equilibrium." He looked at Saryon meaningfully. "This—this is terrible, Your Excellency," Saryon stammered.He was very confused and confused, he only listened to 10% of what the bishop said, but Vanya was looking at him, waiting for his reply, so he blurted out the first thought in his mind: "Of course—er—we Something has to be done, we certainly cannot sit back and watch this threat continue..." "We already have some countermeasures for this, Deacon Saryon." Bishop Fan Ya said in a soothing tone. "Don't worry, things are under control, which is another reason why the boy was brought back with care. But at the same time, we dare not risk absolution for the murder of the overseer; rumors are already in the Word spread among the serf mages, you should know they are a bunch of people who are dissatisfied with the status quo and always want to rebel, and pardoning this heinous crime committed by this young man will encourage these people to spread their lawless behavior. Therefore, we must capture this young man alive , and judge him for his crimes. Capture him alive." Van Ya muttered, his brows furrowed. "This is the most important." Saryon thought he had finally begun to understand the situation. "I see, Your Excellency the Bishop." His words could hardly cover the bitterness in his mouth. "You need to sneak in there alone, isolate this young man, and open the teleportation corridor so that the law enforcement officer can approach him without being discovered by anyone. And the reason why you chose to assign me to carry out this task is that Because I dabbled in the dark—” "You were chosen because of your excellent mathematical ability, Deacon Saryon." Bishop Vanya interrupted, and he smoothly inserted this sentence into Saryon's words.Saryon's glance at the resident saints, coupled with the bishop's slight shaking of his head, was enough to remind him not to bring up this old account again. "We think these scientists are crazy about things like math they believe is the key to the dark craft, which gives you the perfect cover, and they'll gladly accept you for that." "But Your Excellency, I am a catalyst saint, not a rebel or a thief," protested Saryon. "Why would they really accept me?" "There have been some catalyst saints who betrayed the teachings in the past." Van Ya said indifferently. "In fact, Joram's father is. I still remember everything that happened at that time very clearly. He was convicted of impregnating a woman through a physical beast, and he was sentenced to undergo transformation..." Saryon trembled involuntarily, and it seemed that all the sins of the past had gathered before his eyes again.The nightmare of his youth reappeared again, making him even more nervous. The fate of Joran's father may very well be his end!For a moment, his body felt very uncomfortable, he leaned back on the soft cushion of the chair, when the blood in his ears stopped rushing, and the feeling of dizziness gradually left him, he was finally able to pay attention to Fanya again what was said. "You must remember this, Deacon Saryon? It was seventeen years ago... oh, no, I forgot, you were... worrying about... your own problems, anyway, when you learned that your children After failing the test ritual, the mother - I think her name was Anya - disappeared with the baby, and we tried to find her whereabouts, but found it impossible. Finally we now know her What happened to her baby." "Your Excellency," Saryon said, swallowing the bile in his mouth. "I am no longer a young man, and I do not consider myself fit for this important task. I am honored for your confidence, but the lawmen are better suited than I am—" "You underestimate yourself, Deacon." Bishop Fanya said happily, and he left the window sill and walked across the room. "You have lived in your own book world for too long." He came to stand in front of Saryon, looking at the priest in front of him. "Maybe there are other reasons why I chose you, some reasons I can't discuss. You were chosen. Of course I can't force you to perform the mission, but Saryon, don't you feel that you owe something to the Church—we How should I put it—what about the debt of favor from the past?" The resident saints cannot see the bishop's face, only Saryon can, and it will haunt him until his death.The chubby thick cheeks were calm and calm, and Vanya even raised one eyebrow and smiled, but his eyes... those terrifying eyes-dark, cold, and there was no room for compromise. Suddenly, Saryon understood the man's intellect, and he was finally able to explain his sense of irrational fear.He committed a mistake many years ago, and the punishment that followed has never been forgotten or mitigated. No, it's just been suspended. Van Ya waited patiently for seventeen years, just waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of it... to use him... "How about it, Deacon Saryon, what do you say?" the bishop said, maintaining his usual cheerful tone. He had nothing to say, save for a certain ancient oath he had learned long ago.He repeated the vow, as he did every day in the Dawn Ritual, and he could almost see his mother writing to the sky with her pale, slender fingers. "Obeyness is life, and life should be obedience. Obedience and obedience to orders are my destiny, and I was born to obey and obey all orders."
Notes:
Leaving Dorches, Saryon fled to the heavenly library, where he had no fear of being disturbed by others.But he did not continue his research.Saryon buried himself under a pile of scrolls, hiding from the eyes of anyone who might pass by.The priest put his arms around his ordained bald head, feeling as miserable as he had been seventeen years earlier when he had been summoned by the bishop. Over the past few years he had had numerous opportunities to see the bishop in person, who chose to stay in the cathedral cloister on each of his visits to Merilon, but Saryon had not spoken to the bishop since that fateful day. Excuse me. It wasn't that the Bishop avoided him, or was cold to him, absolutely not.On the contrary, Saryon received a letter full of sympathy and love when his mother passed away. The letter expressed the bishop's deepest sympathy and assured him that his mother would be buried with Saryon's father in the holy mountain. One of the most noble tombs.The Bishop even tried to approach him at the funeral, but Saryon disguised himself in deep grief and turned his back on Vanya. The presence of the bishop always disturbed him, perhaps because Saryon still could not forgive the fact that His Excellency had previously pronounced the death sentence on the little prince.Or maybe it was because whenever he looked at Vanya, he could only see his own past sins.He committed a heinous crime when he was twenty-five years old. He is forty-two years old this year, but he always feels that these seventeen years are longer than his previous twenty-five-year-old life!What he told Dorches about his life in the social circle was only partially true; he simply couldn't get along with the others, and they did see him as a hopeless nuisance.But this is not the reason why Saryon avoids Merilon. He found that the beautiful and carnival life of the social circle was just an illusion.For example, Saryon watched day by day as the Queen withered and died from some chronic disease that the healers were helpless.Everyone knew she was dead, but no one discussed it.Of course, no one discussed the matter in front of the emperor.He would report every night how his beloved wife looked better, or talk about how the spring breath conjured up by Sihana mages had helped improve the condition (in Merilon City, spring has lasted As long as a year), everyone in the DPRK nodded in agreement.Numerous maids under the Queen's command painted her gray cheeks or changed the color of her pupils from time to time. "She looks really radiant, Your Majesty. She has become even more beautiful. Never seen her in such good spirits, Your Majesty, did you, Your Majesty?" However, the maids couldn't add flesh to her thin sunken cheeks, or slightly extinguish the fiery light in her eyes.The whispers in the palace became: "What do you think will happen to him after she dies? The succession to the throne is in the woman's family. Her younger brother, the next heir to the throne, has come to visit. Have you been formally introduced by him? Let It may be wise for me to introduce you." Of all the beauties and phantasms of Merilon, the only thing that seemed real seemed to be the Bishop of Vanya—he went about his work, raised a finger to call someone here, waved to something there, led, controlled With everything, always be strict with yourself. But seventeen years ago, Saryon had seen him tremble once.Several times he couldn't help wondering what secret Vanya was hiding, and he seemed to be able to hear the bishop's words again: I can tell you the reason—but his words were interrupted by a sigh, his expression gradually became serious, and he did it coldly. Decide.No, you must obey my instructions without any doubts. A monk appeared before Saryon and touched him lightly on the shoulder.Saryon was taken aback. How long had the boy been standing there without him noticing? "Yes, brother? What's the matter?" "I'm sorry to disturb you, Father, but they have sent me to take you to the bishop's office, if it is convenient for you." "Okay, now—er—just take me." Saryon stood up happily.It is said that even the emperor himself did not dare to keep Bishop Fanya waiting for a long time.
"Father Saryon, come in, come in." Van Ya stood up, waving his hands enthusiastically.His voice sounded enthusiastic, but it sounded forced to Saryon's ears, and the bishop seemed to be trying very hard to keep the warm flame of hospitality alive. Saryon knelt down and kissed the edge of the bishop's robe. He couldn't help but painfully and clearly recalled the situation when he saluted seventeen years ago. Perhaps Bishop Vanya also remembered all this. "No, don't do this, Saryon." Van Ya said happily, and he took the priest's hand. "We can omit the red tape. Let's salute according to the rules in public. This is just a secret private party." Saryon looked at Van Ya with sharp eyes, and he could hear the meaning behind the bishop's tone. "I—I am very honored, Your Excellency, to be summoned here to meet you—" Saryon was a little puzzled. "Deacon, there is someone I want to introduce to you." Bishop Fanya interrupted Saryon smoothly, and continued on his own. Saryon turned, startled to see another person in the room. "This is Father Torben, he is the resident saint stationed in Valen Village." Fan Ya said. "Father Toben, I have seen Father Saryon." "Father Toben." Saryon bowed respectfully. "May God's blessing be with you." No wonder Saryon hadn't noticed this man when he first entered the room.Dark, withered, and haggard, the village saint almost disappeared into the wooden furniture of the room, which looked as if it had grown there in the first place. "Deacon Saryon," muttered Touben, curtseying nervously, his eyes darting from Saryon to Vanya and back to Saryon, his hands tugging at his unpretentious, mud-covered body The sleeves of the tattered green robes printed on him. "Two, please sit down first." Fan Ya said kindly, waving to the chair.Saryon noticed that the resident saint waited a while to make sure he was included in the bishop's invitation—Saryon guessed that was what he thought.The situation suddenly became tricky, because according to protocol, Saryon could not sit down before the resident saints sat down.He was about to sit down when he noticed Torben was still standing, forcing him to stand up again.It just so happened that Torben finally decided that he could sit down, but when the resident saint saw Saryon standing up again, he jumped up and stood up again, his face flushed with embarrassment.This time Bishop Fanya finally came forward to mediate, and he repeated the previous invitation in a cheerful but firm tone. Saryon stretched out on the chair, relieved, and the image of himself jumping up and down around the chair all afternoon came to his mind. Vanya asked if they wanted something to drink, but both Saryon and Toben declined politely, and they chatted politely about some difficulties encountered during spring plowing and this year's bumper harvest.The tense-looking saints stationed in the village weakly responded to the bishop, and the tone of the answer revealed a little confusion. Bishop Fanya finally got to the point. "Father Torben has a very unusual story to tell you, Deacon Saryon." Van Ya said, maintaining the original cheerful tone, as if the three of them were just ordinary old friends chatting about family matters.Saryon's tense mood relaxed a little, but he was even more confused why he was summoned to Vanya's private office—a place he hadn't set foot in for seventeen years—to listen to a Resident saints tell stories?He looked at Fan Ya suddenly, only to find that Fan Ya was looking at himself with a cold expression that knew everything already. Saryon immediately turned his gaze to the resident saint, who took a deep breath just as he was about to jump into the icy water.Saryon began to pay attention to what the skinny priest said. Although Bishop Vanya's expression was as calm as usual, Saryon saw a small muscle in his jaw twitching.He remembered that he had seen the same expression appear on Van Ya's face during the ceremony held for the dead prince. Father Touben began to talk about what he had seen, and Saryon found that he didn't need to force himself to listen at all. He was absorbed in Touben's story, which was the first time he heard Joram's story. The Catalyst Saint went through a range of emotions, from shock to outrage and loathing, as did others who heard the horrifying, dark truth.But at the same time, Saryon felt a entanglement of internal organs and a deep-penetrating fear, which spread from the depths of his heart to his whole body.He shivered all over, curled up in his soft robes. What am I afraid of?he asked himself.Now here I am, sitting in the bishop's elegant office, listening to the words of this dry old resident saint, Chichiaiai, what could go wrong?It was not until later that Saryon remembered the look in the Bishop's eyes as he heard the story.Only later did he understand why he was trembling with fear.In fact, at the time he saw only this visceral shuddering fear as something many people enjoy listening to bedside stories about dead creatures that stalk the night. "When the law enforcement officers arrive," Father Torpen concluded tragically. "The young man had been gone for many hours. They chased him beyond the lands, until it was clear that he was lost in the wilderness. We could see his tracks disappearing beyond the border of the deserted, They also found the centaur's footprints. There was nothing they could do, in fact they assumed he had passed away, for it is known that very few men who venture into that land return, and that is my report. " Van Ya frowned, the face of the catalyst saint turned red, and he lowered his head. "I—I was too rash, as far as my judgment was concerned at the time, because now a year later—" "That's enough, Father Torben." Bishop Van Ya said, his tone still cheerful. But the resident saints were not fooled.He clenched his hands into fists and looked down at the floor in dismay.Saryon knew the poor man must be thinking that after this unfortunate accident, he was destined to be a saint in the village for life.But that was never Saryon's problem, nor was it why he had been summoned to hear this tale of madness and murder.He stared at Bishop Vanya in confusion again, hoping to find some answers, but Vanya didn't look at Saryon, nor did he look at the poor resident saint.The bishop seemed to turn a blind eye to everything, he pursed his lips tightly, his eyebrows furrowed deeply, it was obvious that he was wrestling with an invisible enemy in his heart.Finally, he stopped struggling - or so it seemed at last - and turned to Saryon, his expression calm again. "What a shock, Deacon." "Yes, Your Excellency." Saryon replied, still feeling that trembling feeling crawling up his back. The stubby fingertips were close together, and the bishop slapped each other gracefully in turn. "On several occasions over the past few years we have found children of the living dead who were still alive because their parents went astray, and when we discovered their whereabouts, their lives of pain and suffering were instantly relieved." Saryon shifted restlessly in his seat.He had heard rumors of it, and though he knew well the tormented lives these poor souls must have lived, he could not help wondering whether such drastic measures were really necessary.Obviously, his doubts showed on his face, so Van Ya frowned, turned his gaze to the innocent saints in the village, and opened his mouth to admonish. "You must know that we must not allow the living dead to walk on the ground." Van Ya said sternly to Father Torben. "Yes—yes, Your Excellency the Bishop." The catalyst saint stammered, cowering at the sudden injustice. "The life force, which is magic, comes from everything around us, the ground we walk on, the air we breathe, or other living things that grow and thrive to serve us... yes, even rock chimes and stones , these shattered remains of once majestic mountains also endow us with the power of life. We call upon this power and transmit it through our humble bodies, giving mages the ability to shape and transform raw materials into useful, beautiful substance." Vanya glared at the resident saint to make sure he was paying attention.The village saint who was at a loss and looked very painful could only swallow his saliva and nodded. The bishop went on: "Think of the life force as a bottle of pure, rich wine, the color, the taste, and the aroma—" He stretched out his hands. "—Every aspect is perfect, will you dilute this bottle of fine wine with water?" Fan Ya asked suddenly. "No, oh, no, Your Excellency!" cried Father Torpen. "But you let the living dead walk among us. Worse, you may let their seeds fall and germinate on fertile ground? Don't you see the weeds' vines have choked the life of the vines and die?" The resident saint trembled under the onslaught of sharp words, and he was almost reduced to a shriveled grape.His dark cheeks were drawn, his withered appearance contorted as he protested desperately that he had no intention of cultivating weeds.Vanya chattered freely with him, but his eyes drifted to Saryon.Saryon nodded.Of course, Fan Ya was reprimanding himself. For Fan Ya, it was not in accordance with the rules to scold a catalyst saint on the holy mountain in front of his subordinates, so Fan Ya chose this method to reprimand him.Confused memories of hiccupping babies and weeping parents flashed through Saryon's mind, but he faintly repressed them.As always, the Bishop is right, and Deacon Saryon is definitely not the one to dilute the wine. However, as he sat in the chair and looked at his hand, which was placed on the hem of his robe according to the ritual, he couldn't help wondering, what did the bishop mean by all this? With an abrupt gesture, Fan Ya immediately shut up the saint in the village, which was like uprooting him and then placing him on the ground to wither.The Bishop turned to Saryon. "Deacon Saryon, you must be wondering what this Joran story has to do with you. I will give you the answer now. I will assign you to hunt down Joran." Saryon could only stare wide-eyed in inexplicable horror, and now it was his turn to stutter.Father Touben was relieved, grateful to see the attention finally shifting from him. "But . . . Your Excellency, I—you said he was dead." "No—no," stammered Father Torpen, humbly. "I—that's what I said wrong..." "He's not dead, then?" Saryon said. "No, so you have to find him and bring him back." Van Ya replied. Saryon stared at Bishop Vanya, wondering what he could say.Because I'm not a lawman, because I don't know anything about apprehending dangerous criminals, because I'm old enough, because I'm a catalyst saint—synonymous with weak, defenseless. "Why did you choose me, Your Excellency the Bishop?" He finally asked feebly. Bishop Fanya smiled. Enduring the priest's confusion, he raised his feet and strolled to the window. He gestured with his hands behind his back, implying that the two subordinates who were about to jump up when he stood up continued to maintain their sitting positions. Saryon sat back on the upholstered chair, and at the same time tried to move his position to see Van Ya's expression when he spoke, but it was impossible as expected.The Bishop walked to the window and stood with his back to Saryon, looking down at the courtyard below. "You know, Deacon Saryon, this young man Joran brought us a very special problem. He did not die at the border as reported." He said in a pleasant and calm voice. He half turned around, carefully inspected the fabric of the curtains, and then glared at the curtains angrily.The face of the resident saint was pale, and he finally muttered: "There is a small problem." Van Ya continued calmly: "Some rumors heard by Father Torben afterward, let us believe that this young man participated in a self-proclaimed A group of reincarnation witches." Saryon aimed at Father Torben, hoping to find some clues, because the tone of Bishop Vanya was so timid when he mentioned this term, Saryon could only guess that he was the only one in Simharun who had never heard of this group people.But the saint in the village couldn't help at all, he seemed to shrink into the chair and disappeared. Getting no response from the priest, Van Ya turned his head sideways, his eyes drifting over his shoulders. "Haven't you heard of them, Father Saryon?" "No, Your Excellency." Saryon confessed. "Because I live a life of almost isolation...my research..." "No need to apologize." Van Ya interrupted him, clasped his hands behind his back, and turned to face Saryon. "In fact, I'd be surprised if you knew that, just as loving parents keep their children from knowledge of dark and evil things until they're old enough to handle advances and retreats wisely, so we A dark cloud of information is kept from the knowledge of the people. We carry the burden so that they can live with peace of mind. Oh, the people are not in danger." He saw Saryon raise his eyebrows warily. Add another sentence. "It's just because we don't want panic to interfere with Merilon's beautiful, peaceful life like it does in other kingdoms. In fact, Father Saryon, this witch cult—that is, the Ninth Branch—is dedicated to the study of dark crafts: technology." Again, Saryon felt the cold claws of fear grip him, and a shudder ran from his head to his feet. "A serf mage heard noises one night, so he got up and looked out of the window, and he saw Mosiah talking to a young man he was sure was Joram. He couldn't make out what they were saying , but he swore he had heard the words 'witch' and 'reincarnation', and he said that Mosiah kept retreating because of this, but his friend must have been very convincing, because Mosiah disappeared the next morning .” Saryon looked at Father Torben, and happened to catch a sneaky look at Vanya from the saint in the village.Vanya pretended not to see him, Torben looked at his fellow saints, and found Saryon looking at him, his cheeks flushed guiltily, and his eyes turned to his shoes. "Of course we already knew about the existence of this witch religion." Bishop Fanya frowned. "This cult is made up of outcasts or outcasts who think the world owes them their birth. Not only are the living dead among them, but thieves and robbers, debtors Fugitives, scoundrels, rebels... Now there is another murderer. From the kingdom of Saraken in the north to the kingdom of Jessair in the east, their members gather from all over the kingdom; their numbers continue to grow, Whilst the Warlords of Fire could have easily dealt with them, going there and taking the young man by force would surely lead to an armed conflict that would leave many talking, worried and unfounded. We must not allow this to happen, At least not now, the political situation in the court is in a very fragile state of equilibrium." He looked at Saryon meaningfully. "This—this is terrible, Your Excellency," Saryon stammered.He was very confused and confused, he only listened to 10% of what the bishop said, but Vanya was looking at him, waiting for his reply, so he blurted out the first thought in his mind: "Of course—er—we Something has to be done, we certainly cannot sit back and watch this threat continue..." "We already have some countermeasures for this, Deacon Saryon." Bishop Fan Ya said in a soothing tone. "Don't worry, things are under control, which is another reason why the boy was brought back with care. But at the same time, we dare not risk absolution for the murder of the overseer; rumors are already in the Word spread among the serf mages, you should know they are a bunch of people who are dissatisfied with the status quo and always want to rebel, and pardoning this heinous crime committed by this young man will encourage these people to spread their lawless behavior. Therefore, we must capture this young man alive , and judge him for his crimes. Capture him alive." Van Ya muttered, his brows furrowed. "This is the most important." Saryon thought he had finally begun to understand the situation. "I see, Your Excellency the Bishop." His words could hardly cover the bitterness in his mouth. "You need to sneak in there alone, isolate this young man, and open the teleportation corridor so that the law enforcement officer can approach him without being discovered by anyone. And the reason why you chose to assign me to carry out this task is that Because I dabbled in the dark—” "You were chosen because of your excellent mathematical ability, Deacon Saryon." Bishop Vanya interrupted, and he smoothly inserted this sentence into Saryon's words.Saryon's glance at the resident saints, coupled with the bishop's slight shaking of his head, was enough to remind him not to bring up this old account again. "We think these scientists are crazy about things like math they believe is the key to the dark craft, which gives you the perfect cover, and they'll gladly accept you for that." "But Your Excellency, I am a catalyst saint, not a rebel or a thief," protested Saryon. "Why would they really accept me?" "There have been some catalyst saints who betrayed the teachings in the past." Van Ya said indifferently. "In fact, Joram's father is. I still remember everything that happened at that time very clearly. He was convicted of impregnating a woman through a physical beast, and he was sentenced to undergo transformation..." Saryon trembled involuntarily, and it seemed that all the sins of the past had gathered before his eyes again.The nightmare of his youth reappeared again, making him even more nervous. The fate of Joran's father may very well be his end!For a moment, his body felt very uncomfortable, he leaned back on the soft cushion of the chair, when the blood in his ears stopped rushing, and the feeling of dizziness gradually left him, he was finally able to pay attention to Fanya again what was said. "You must remember this, Deacon Saryon? It was seventeen years ago... oh, no, I forgot, you were... worrying about... your own problems, anyway, when you learned that your children After failing the test ritual, the mother - I think her name was Anya - disappeared with the baby, and we tried to find her whereabouts, but found it impossible. Finally we now know her What happened to her baby." "Your Excellency," Saryon said, swallowing the bile in his mouth. "I am no longer a young man, and I do not consider myself fit for this important task. I am honored for your confidence, but the lawmen are better suited than I am—" "You underestimate yourself, Deacon." Bishop Fanya said happily, and he left the window sill and walked across the room. "You have lived in your own book world for too long." He came to stand in front of Saryon, looking at the priest in front of him. "Maybe there are other reasons why I chose you, some reasons I can't discuss. You were chosen. Of course I can't force you to perform the mission, but Saryon, don't you feel that you owe something to the Church—we How should I put it—what about the debt of favor from the past?" The resident saints cannot see the bishop's face, only Saryon can, and it will haunt him until his death.The chubby thick cheeks were calm and calm, and Vanya even raised one eyebrow and smiled, but his eyes... those terrifying eyes-dark, cold, and there was no room for compromise. Suddenly, Saryon understood the man's intellect, and he was finally able to explain his sense of irrational fear.He committed a mistake many years ago, and the punishment that followed has never been forgotten or mitigated. No, it's just been suspended. Van Ya waited patiently for seventeen years, just waiting for an opportunity to take advantage of it... to use him... "How about it, Deacon Saryon, what do you say?" the bishop said, maintaining his usual cheerful tone. He had nothing to say, save for a certain ancient oath he had learned long ago.He repeated the vow, as he did every day in the Dawn Ritual, and he could almost see his mother writing to the sky with her pale, slender fingers. "Obeyness is life, and life should be obedience. Obedience and obedience to orders are my destiny, and I was born to obey and obey all orders."
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