Chapter 20 Chapter 3 Lost

"What's that sound?" Jacobs woke up from his deep sleep, sat up on the bed, looked around the dark cabin, and searched for the source of the noise that woke him up. The sound came again, a timid knocking sound. "Someone seems to be at the door," his wife whispered, sitting up beside him, her hand clasping his arm. "Perhaps Mosiah!" "Hmm." The serf mage snorted, pushed the quilt aside, and easily floated across the floor on the wings of magic. He opened the sealing spell on the door with a soft commanding tone, and the mage cautiously poked his head out.

"Father Saryon!" he said in surprise. "I——I'm sorry for waking you up." The Catalyst Saint murmured. "Can I interrupt you one more moment and let me go in first? The situation is very critical and I must talk to you!" He added in a desperate tone, staring at Mosiah's father beggingly. "Of course, of course, Father," Jacobs said.He stepped back and closed the door, and the Catalyst Saint stepped into the room, and the tall, thin green robed figure appeared for a moment in the light of the full moon just rising in the sky.The moonlight shone on Jacob's face, and he and his terrified wife exchanged glances.She sat on the bed, clutching the blanket over her chest, and he closed the door.The moonlight disappeared, and the room was dark, but at the mage's order, there was a warm glow among the branches that formed the roof.

"Please, turn off the lights!" Saryon said.He recoiled from the light, even looking out of the window in fear. Jacobs was bewildered, and extinguished the light as he said.The room was dark again, and the rustling sound from the bed suggested that his wife had risen. "Would you like a drink of... what, Father?" she said hesitantly. "A... cup of tea?" What else can one say to a catalyst saint who visits in the middle of the night, especially when he looks like he's being stalked by demons? "No—no, thank you," Saryon replied. "I..." He opened his mouth, but he only cleared his throat and remained silent.

The three of them stood in the dark, listening to each other's breathing, then another rustling, then Jacob's grunt and moan after his wife elbowed him in the ribs. "Then is there anything we can do for you, Father?" "Yes." Saryon took a deep breath and began, "I mean, I hope so. I'm--er-- in critical condition, as you know, and--someone told me--my It means I heard—you have—you may have a way to—” At this point, he suddenly ran out of words, and the lines that had been carefully prepared suddenly completely disappeared from his head.The catalyst saints hoped that they could return to their hometown, so they had to cling tightly to a word they still remembered. "The situation is critical, you know, so..." But it was of no use, Saryon gave up struggling. "I need your help," he finally said, confessing everything. "I'm going to the land beyond transformation."

Perhaps Jacobs would not have been as shocked as this if the Emperor had appeared in his hut and said he was going to the Land of Alienation.The moonlight crept in from the window, shining on the bald middle-aged catalyst saint. He stood hunched in the middle of the cabin, clutching a small luggage in his hand.Jacobs realized that it must contain all his personal belongings in this world.His wife made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a stifled nervous smirk.Her husband coughed accusingly, and said sharply, "I think we must have some tea, woman. You'd better sit down, Father."

Saryon shook his head and looked out the window. "I—I have to go, while the moon is still in the sky..." "It will take some time for the moon to set in the west." Jacobs said complacently, sitting slumped on the chair, watching his wife light a fire on the stove and prepare to make tea. "Then, Father Saryon—" The mage stared sternly at the Catalyst Saint as if he were looking at his teenage son. "—What the hell are you talking about? Going to the land of the outside world?" "I must go, my condition is critical." Saryon replied.He sat down, still clutching the small leather pouch with his personal belongings in his arms.Yet when he sat at the other end of the serf mage's humble little table, he did look like he was in danger. "Please don't try to stop me or ask me any questions, just give me the assistance I need and let me go, and I'll be fine. After all, we depend on Emin for our lives—"

"Father," Jacobs interrupted. "I know that in your church, being sent to the farm is considered a punishment. Let's put it this way, I don't know what crime you committed, and I don't want to know." He raised his hand, thinking that Saryon might have something to say . "But whatever it is, I'm sure it wouldn't be worth your life to lose it for nothing. Stay here with us and do your part." Saryon just shook his head. Jacobs stared at him for a moment, frowning, and he shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable. "I—what I'm going to talk to you about now is not what I should be saying, Father. Your God and I have had a relationship of mutual benefit, neither of us expecting much from each other. I never felt like He and I It's close, so is He, and I guess that's what He wants, or at least that's what Father Torpen guessed. But you're different, Father. Something you said earlier got me thinking. When you said We're all thanks to Emin's blessing, and I can almost believe you're including me, and not just you and the Bishop."

Saryon was very surprised, he stared at the person in front of him, feeling ashamed inside, he hadn't expected this at all.It occurred to him that he didn't really believe himself when he said, "We're all thanks to Emin," or else why would he be so terrified of venturing out into the wilderness?Luckily I'm going.he thought bitterly.Apparently, I've become a hypocrite now. Seeing Saryon fall silent, apparently in deep thought, Jacobs mistook the Catalyst for reconsidering. "Stay here with us, Father." The serf mage gently urged. "Life isn't very good here, but it's not too bad. There's a lot worse out there, trust me." Jacobs' voice trailed off. "Just go there—" He nodded out the window. "—you will know."

Saryon bowed his head, his shoulders hunched, his pale face full of terror. "I see." Jacobs said after a pause. "So you have to go, don't you? What I'm saying is just commonplace to you, isn't it? You've heard it in your own mind, Father. Somebody or something has kept you from going." Not so." "Yes." Saryon said calmly. "Stop asking me. I'm a terrible liar." The two remained silent until Jacobs' wife floated the tea onto the table, and the floating tea poured itself into cups made of polished horn.She sat beside her husband and held his hand tightly.

"Is it because of our son?" she asked in a terrified tone. Saryon looked up at them, his pale face contorted in the moonlight. "No." He said softly, and when he saw that she was about to speak, he shook his head. "We just do what we have to do." "But, Father," Jacobs said. "We should do, or must do what we are suitable to do! With all due respect, Father Saryon, but I have seen your situation in the farmland. Even if you want to go out, it should be in the presence of some royal lady Inside the Rose Pavilion! You're bound to stumble over stones before you've walked ten paces! The sun burned you so badly the first day you came here that we had to lay you down in the creek, To wake you up. You were almost scorched and you jumped up when you saw your own shadow, not to mention that locust flew in your face, I've never seen anyone run after you in my life as fast."

Saryon sighed and nodded, but did not answer. "You are no longer a young man, Father," said Jacobs' wife kindly, her heart softened by the fear and despair on the faces of the Catalyst Saints, and she put her hand on the table where Saryon's trembling hand above. "There must be other ways. Why don't you finish your tea and go back to your bed, and we'll talk to Father Torpen..." "There is no other way, I promise you." Saryon said softly, even though his face was full of fear, his expression was still solemn and peaceful. "Thank you for your kindness and... for your concern, I—I didn't expect that." He stood up, without touching his tea, and faced them. "Now I must beg you to give me the help I need. I know that you have contacts with people from the outside world. I am not asking you to name them. You just need to tell me where to go and what to do to find them." Jacobs looked uncertainly at his wife, who did not touch her cup of tea, but stared at the coals in the stove.He squeezed her hand, she nodded without turning her eyes, and made a low voice deep in her throat.Jacobs' hair was disheveled, and he scratched his chin and finally said, "Okay, Father, I will do my best to help you, but this is basically like sending a person to the afterlife with my own hands! I really want to Do it!" "I understand, and I really appreciate your help," said Saryon, genuinely moved by the man's pain. "You are a kind and gentle man," said Jacob's wife suddenly, still staring at the stove. "I noticed that when you looked at us, there was something in your eyes that told me that to you we were not animals but people, and if—if you saw my son—" She was speechless and sobbed silently. "You'd better get ready to go, Father," Jacobs said stiffly. "The moon is almost over the tops of the trees, and you have a long way to go if you don't reach the river before the moon sets," he added gravely. "Sit down and wait for daylight. Don't run around in the dark. You're bound to fall off the cliff." "Yes." Saryon tried to say something, took another deep breath, smoothed out the wrinkles on his robe with trembling hands. "Then, come here—" Jacobs led the catalyst saints to the door, and the door opened automatically as he approached. "—then look where my fingers are pointing, and listen carefully to what I say, for they may mean your life, not your death, Father." "I understand," Saryon said, clutching his courage as his hands clutched his little skin. "Look at the star in the distance, the star on the edge of the God's Hand constellation, do you see it?" "I see." "That's the North Star, and it's not called the Hand of God for nothing, for it guides you. If you let it guide you, keep that star in your left eye, as the proverb says, Do you know what that means?" The catalyst saint shook his head, Jacobs sighed. "It means—forget it, you just do it right, always make sure that you are walking towards the star and a little bit to the right, and don't let the star appear on your right, understand? Otherwise, you will definitely will go to the territory of the centaur. If they catch you, you can only pray to Emin for an early death and early rebirth." Saryon looked up at the night sky, at the stars, feeling suddenly depressed.He realized that he had never looked up at the starry sky before, at least not here, where the stars seemed so close and numerous; Small, cold, distant and unnoticed, it was about to lead him in the right direction.This made Saryon feel the irony, and he thought of the Holy Mountain, where they studied how the stars affected a man from his birth.He looked at the charts spread out on the table and remembered the calculations he had made, but he also remembered that he had never looked up at the stars as he did now.Now, his life depended entirely on them. "I understand." He murmured, but couldn't make a sound. Jacobs looked at him suspiciously. "Maybe I should take him," he murmured to his wife. Saryon took a quick look around. "No need," he said. "No, it's going to be troublesome, I've been here too long, someone might see us. Thank you both very much, thank you both for your help and—with your kind words, bye, bye, may Ai Min's blessings with you both." "Perhaps that's not what I should say, Father," said Jacobs roughly. "I'm not at all a catalyst saint or anything, but may Emin's blessing be with you." He blushed and looked down at the floor. "Well, I guess he wouldn't be offended, would you?" Saryon smiled, but his quivering lips led him to believe that he might cry instead, and that would be a miserable scene.He held out his hand, and shook Jacobs's hand very cordially, but Jacobs was in some kind of agonizing dilemma, for he was still staring at Saryon, and seemed to be making up his mind to say something more.His wife floated close to him, suddenly took Saryon's hand, and brought it to her rough lips. "This is for you," she said softly. "And my child, if you see him." With tears in her eyes, she turned and rushed back to the shabby cabin. Saryon's vision dimmed as he started off, and he only felt Jacob's hand on his shoulder. "Listen," said the serf mage. "I - I thought it was time to let you know, maybe it would make you feel better. There have been - some people have - asked to speak to you, they need a Catalyst Saint, and I guess they're probably very Interested, if you know what I mean." "Thank you." Saryon said, feeling a little surprised, Bishop Van Ya had mentioned the same thing, how did he know? "Where am I going to find these—" "They're going to find you," Jacobs said stiffly. "But you only need to remember the position of the stars, otherwise death will be the first to find you." "I'll remember that, thank you, and goodbye." But obviously, Jacobs was still uneasy, and he still tried to stop Saryon in the end. "I don't agree with that at all," he muttered, frowning. "Not because of what I've seen. Mind you, just from what I've heard, I hope these rumors aren't true, and if they are true, I pray my kids aren't involved. I Disapproved of him being there, but we had no other choice, not to mention we heard a law enforcement officer was sent to talk to him..." "Lawrence?" Saryon repeated, puzzled. "But I thought he ran away with the young man who killed the overseer, that Joram..." "Joran?" Jacobs shook his head. "I don't know who told you. No one has seen that strange young man for more than a year. Mosiah hopes to go to him. I can be sure of this. I don't have any hope for this matter. .a living dead running around..." He shook his head again. "But I don't want to go any further on this matter." Jacobs grabbed Saryon's arm and looked at him sincerely. "I don't want to mention it next to his mother, but if the kid is indeed with the bad guys and is on—on the dark road, talk to him, Father? Can you remind him we've been Do you love him, miss him?" "I will, Jacobs, I will." Saryon said softly, patting the man's hand rough from work. "Thank you, Father." Jacobs cleared his throat, wiped his eyes and nose with his hands, and took a moment to calm down before walking back to the cabin. "Good-bye, Father," he said. He turned, walked into the cabin and closed the door behind him.Saryon didn't want to leave for a moment. He looked into the window and saw the serf mage and his wife standing together under a beam of moonlight passing through the window. He saw Jacobs put his arms around his wife and hugged her tightly. She, he vaguely heard her sobbing. Saryon sighed, clutching his little skin, and began to walk across the field.His eyes were on the stars, and now and then into the darkness to which the vast expanse of stars drew him.His feet staggered across what looked like patches of pale moonlight and black shadows on uneven pavement.When he came to the border of the countryside, he looked at the wheat fields that gently undulated with the breeze, like a lake of moonlight.Turning around, Saryon took one last look at the countryside, looking at this place where he might have last contact with humanity. The treehouses sat numbly on the ground, their intertwined branches casting eerily intricate shadows in the moonlight.There was no light in the hut, and the faint light from Jakos' window went out as Saryon watched.The serf mage was so tired that he didn't even have the strength to dream, and he had already gone to bed. For a split second, the Catalyst Saint thought he might run back, but as he gazed at the peaceful village, Saryon realized he couldn't.He might have been able to an hour ago, when the fear inside him was very real, but not now.He could turn away from them now, turn and leave all of his past life, and he would go into the night, led by that tiny, unnoticeable star above.It wasn't because he had found his courage again, the reason was as dark as the shadows cast by the moonlit trees rustling around him, and he couldn't turn back until he got the answer. About Mosiah, Bishop Fanya lied to him, why?
That nagging problem of accompanying Saryon into the wilds, and the shadowy companion that comes with it, is indeed a very valuable travel companion, as it captures the heart of the catalyst saint and makes his other travel companion ; Fear, left alone in the rear.Keeping one eye on the stars becomes a difficult task as the Catalyst Saint moves deeper and deeper into the dense woods.Saryon pondered the question, tried to find an excuse, tried to find an explanation, and was forced to admit to himself that there was no excuse, no explanation. Bishop Fan Ya lied, that part is very clear, not only that, this is a conspiracy embracing lies. Saryon stopped to rest, and sat slumped down on a big rock, massaging his aching and cramped leg muscles.Eerie and ominous forest sounds roared and whispered around him, but Saryon was able to ignore them.He hid in his heart and returned to the room of Bishop Fanya of the Holy Mountain. Back then, he listened to the story of Father Torben.Vanya's words rang clearly in his ears, benevolently blocking the low growl of some kind of predator stalking its prey in the middle of the night. Looks like this Joram has a friend—Saryon can still hear Vanya quite clearly—a young man called Mosiah, a serf mage who heard some noises one night and got up to watch out the window.He saw Mosiah talking to a young man whom he was sure was Joram. He couldn't make out what they were talking about, but he swore he heard the words "witchcraft" and "reincarnation". It is said that Mosiah retreated because of this, but his friend must be very convincing, because the next morning, Mosiah disappeared. Yes, Mosiah had disappeared, but not because of Joram, who had left because of rumors that the Marshals were interested in him. There was a high-pitched scream from behind Saryon, interrupted by an angry roar.The catalyst mage stood up from the boulder, and as soon as he understood what had happened, he sprinted into the forest.When he came to his senses, he took a few deep breaths to calm his beating heart and forced himself to slow down.He checked the direction of the stars, and the branches above his head made him almost lose his sense of direction. He was horrified to find that the moon had set in the west. The Catalyst saint remembered Jacobs' warning about walking in the dark, and for a split second he also vividly recalled the furtive look Father Touben had given Bishop Vanya when the bishop was talking about Joram and Mosiah's story.Saryon recalled Torben's face flushing with guilt when he saw the Catalyst Saints watching him, it was all a conspiracy laced with lies. But why?What exactly are they hiding? Saryon suddenly had an answer.He hurried on with some vague notion that he must reach the river before the moon set, and wrestled with the enigma as he wrestled with a mathematical equation.Fan Ya knew that Qiao Lang was in the witch religion, and his purpose of lying was to cover up his source of information.In fact, Saryon learned, Vanya knew quite a lot about the witches: they needed a catalyst saint, and they were negotiating with the king of Saraken.So it was logical that the bishop planted a spy in the cult, and that part of the mystery was solved.However, Saryon frowned, his identity still lacked a final answer. If Vanya had a spy in the Witch Cult, why would he need himself? These thoughts distracted him, and the Catalyst Saint staggered inwardly as he stumbled through the gathering darkness.He stopped abruptly, recovered his breath, and adjusted his bearings to the stars.He didn't hear the river, and at last logically convinced himself that he hadn't gone far enough, he decided to heed Jacobs and rest for the rest of the night. Saryon set out to find a place where he could spend the night until dawn.He hadn't crossed the river yet, and naively assumed he was perfectly safe, even if that wasn't the case.The Catalyst Saint, exhausted from unaccustomed movement, restless pressure, and tension, knows he won't be able to take a step, and convinces himself that it might be better to stay near the trail (without bothering to worry about who or what made this trail).Saryon covered his bony ankles with his robes and stepped forward to the base of a huge oak tree, making a very uncomfortable bed between two huge exposed roots.He lifted his knees up to his chin, ready to wait out the night under the bushes. Saryon didn't intend to fall asleep, in fact, he didn't believe he would.The moon had gone down, and though the stars still shone brightly above him, the night around him was still dark and frightening; strange voices rustled, roared, sniffed, wild eyes watched him, and he closed his eyes in despair. on his own eyes. "Emin is protecting me," he whispered to himself feverishly, but the words gave him no comfort and sounded stupid instead.To Emin, isn't he just another poor man in this world?He is just a tiny existence, and it is less worthy of Emin's attention than those bright and shining stars, because he is a poor mortal, and cannot emit light. The saints pray more devoutly for Emin's blessing!Saryon clenched his fists in despair.His church, which had seemed to him as mighty and strong as a mountain fortress, was crumbling around him. His bishop, who was closest to his god, had lied to him, his bishop, had used him for some dark, imperceptible reason. Saryon shook his head, trying to recall his theological studies, hoping to catch the belief that was drifting away from him.But he might as well put his hand in the running water and fish out the ripples so as to stop the spreading waves.His faith was tied to man, and man failed him. No, seriously.Saryon told himself.He shivered with the terrifying sounds of the night, dragging along with subconscious fear.Your beliefs are actually tied to yourself, and you are the one who fails you! The Catalyst Saint curled up under the tree with his head in his arms and his head in despair.He listened to the approaching noise, waited for the sharp teeth to sink into his flesh, or heard the hoarse laughter of the centaurs, but the noise faded away, or maybe he was disappearing.Nothing matters anymore, nothing matters anymore. Lost in a darkness that was wider and more terrifying than the Land of Alienation, Saryon accepted his fate, exhausted and hopeless, no longer caring whether he lived or died.He fell asleep.