Lord and Mage

The city of St. Derian is a city that sounds beautiful. In the ancient language, it symbolizes loyalty, honor and firmness. I don't know which sage gave it this name, but it obviously violates the original intention of the name.

In fact, this is just a small town on the border of the kingdom, and there is only one light rain all year round. The people in the city are always trapped by drought, and because of the invasion of sand and dust, the whole town looks gray and dull.

Today is a rare day in Saint-Derian.

A new city lord has taken office.

The owner of the castle is no longer the aging old man with gorgeous hair, but a young man who is full of vigor and passion in his eyes.

He has brilliant blond hair, blue eyes like a peaceful lake, a gentle mother gave him a handsome face, and a wise father gave him a gentle heart. Honed into a temperament mixed with firmness and tolerance, it shone with the power ring in his hand.

The townspeople cheered for their new city lord, the girl wearing a crown of fresh branches offered a pot of ointment, the young man in a short robe danced the ancient sacrificial dance, and everyone chanted the songs handed down from the ancient times to praise together their castellan.

"How can I give them peace?" In the eyes of the young city lord, besides the excitement of the new appointment, the haze of worry has crept up on his brows.

Drought has been a problem that has plagued this place for nearly a century. The tall mountains in the south block the moisture from the ocean. There are only two heavy rains a year, and people struggle to survive.

"Maybe try that..."

The lord of the city held a candle and stepped into the basement.

When he was young, he saw a thick book here.There are strange symbols recorded in the book. He once drew them out of curiosity, but was reprimanded by his father and was never allowed to enter.

But now he has become the castellan.

"I need to use blood donation as a sacrifice to guide the way for my powerful partner..."

The city lord bit his finger, and the donated blood dripped on the paper, splashing small blood.

He hesitated for a moment, but quickly made up his mind, and drew the weird pattern according to the book.

When the last stroke is connected with the first stroke, the pattern emits a white light, which envelopes the city lord, so intense that it is dazzling.

"Tell me your wish."

A hoarse voice sounded, lingering in my ears like the whisper of a devil.

The city advocate opened his mouth, and his throat was temporarily speechless due to tension, but he overcame this: "I—I want my city to be in good order, so that my citizens will not be displaced, and my land No more mourning over drought."

"I promise you—in return."

A tall figure appeared out of thin air in front of the city lord, his face was hidden under the black robe, only a little silver curly hair was revealed.

He raised his hand, the veins on the pale joints were clear, the nails were slightly black, the city lord saw a drop of blood dripping from his fingertips, and fell on the corner of his eyes, sending out a scorching pain.

"I will keep my agreement with you until the god of death visits you."

------

The mysterious man didn't tell the city owner his name, so the city owner had to call him "Mr. Silver".

Mr. Yin is an amazing person. He drew a complicated and wonderful pattern at the foot of the mountain, and the clear water flows out from the middle continuously, which is cool and sweet.

This is simply amazing. The city lord has seen many people who claim to be archmages, but with all their strength, they can only condense a little water droplets from the dry air—the size of a fist.

Even so, the ancestors of the city lord did not dare to neglect them, even a drop of water is so precious in St. Delion.

With water, people no longer worry about the dryness of the seeds planted, livestock will not die of thirst due to lack of food and grass, and all the suffering caused by drought will disappear overnight.

People looked at the spring almost in fear, like a fragile dream.

When they really drank the first sip of water, the suffering that lasted for hundreds of years finally turned into a choked sound and overflowed from people's throats.

From the Mobora Desert in the east to the Lungo Plain in the west, the long wind crosses the maze of the desert with a long sigh, heading towards the sky of the first ray of sunshine.

"Are you satisfied with what you see?"

Through his blurred vision, the city lord saw Mr. Yin's figure against the light, as if a pair of huge wings were slowly spreading behind him.

"I am willing to give everything for you, as long as I have, as long as you need."

The young city lord put his hand on his forehead and bowed deeply: "Saint Delian will always remember you.

------

Surprisingly, however, Mr. Yin, who has made such a contribution to the town, wants almost nothing.

San Delian is a small town famous for its mineral deposits. Every year, countless caravans risk their lives across the vast desert, exchanging silk and water for commodities.There are the best gems and the purest crystals here, and if Mr. Silver wants, the townspeople can build him a palace-with rubies as the base, crystals as windows, and agate as the top.

But he only found a remote corner to live in the city lord's mansion, and hardly appeared in front of people.He was so low-key that the mages who were afraid of him gradually stopped mentioning him.

Only the young city lord hovered in front of the window from time to time, staring at the small spire for a long time.

Mr. Yin had three regular meals a day, and he would eat whatever was sent to him. When the maid went to take back the plate, he would occasionally receive a piece of paper with the things he needed written on it, which were commonly used by mages.

During the three years, the city lord had very few conversations with Mr. Yin.

The first was on May [-]th, Esperton's day for the dead.When the moonlight spreads the silver gauze all over the earth, the ghosts of the underworld can see the world through the moonlight, and the thoughts of the living can be conveyed to them.

The city lord sits on a high roof, and his city is covered with small blue lights, extending along the main street, shaking the Milky Way in the world.

He took out his piccolo and played a little tune in a low voice to the singing in the wind.

"I remember this song."

The city lord, who was immersed in his thoughts, was taken aback and almost couldn't sit still. A cool hand was placed on his shoulder, and the nails were black.

He raised his head, and Mr. Yin's broken robe was slightly raised, like a crow that came and went without a trace.

"Does Mr. Yin know this song too?"

"Yeah..." There was a smile in Mr. Yin's voice, "My friend once played, but he is not as sad as you."

The city lord scratched the mouth of the flute with his nails: "You must have a good relationship with him."

This is a song of true love. Mothers will sing it to their sons, and men will sing it to their lovers. If they are good friends, they must be close friends.

"..."

After a long time, Mr. Yin said in a low voice: "Maybe..."

The gratitude that has been piled up in my heart found an opportunity, and the city lord said: "This is the first song my mother taught me. After I learned it, no one has heard it. Would you like to listen to it?"

"Honored."

Mr. Yin sat beside the city lord, the voice of the piccolo became light and powerful, and the gentle moonlight became lively.

Mr. Yin's hair has grown a bit longer, and sometimes it touches the castellan's shoulders.The sky above the head is twinkling with stars, overlooking the vast sea of ​​lights, like an ethereal dream.

Mr. Silver embellished his dream, and the young castellan had never felt so peaceful.

But since then, Mr. Yin has never appeared again.

Whenever he encountered troubles, the city owner would walk to Mr. Yin's door, where there was a small swing, which the old city owner made many years ago to celebrate his son's birthday, and now it was covered with small white flowers.

The appearance of Mr. Yin is reflected on the window through the light. Sometimes he is reading, half leaning against the table, his thin arms are exposed by the rolled-up sleeves, and the movements of fingers turning the pages of the book seem to be playing a musical instrument.

Sometimes he is drawing something, resting his chin on his left hand, the quill is flying between him, and he will tilt his head from time to time because of thinking, which is very cute.

Most of the time, he just fell asleep, sleeping for a whole day, looking very tired.

【What am I doing? 】

The blushing and heartbeating city lord would suddenly think of this, and then panic for no reason, ran to a far away place, and looked back to make sure that Mr. Yin didn't notice him, so he was relieved.

Everything is step by step, winding along a fixed track like a river, but fate is always playing tricks on people.

The first day of August is the Harvest Festival. The people of Saint-Derian have never enjoyed this festival before, so once they let go, they will be extremely fierce.

People were singing and dancing, running around holding their own homemade fruit wine, and the place where the city lord passed was even more crowded.

His capacity for drinking was not good, and he couldn't help people's enthusiasm, so he got drunk after a few strokes.The attendants protected him and got out of the crowd, and fled back to the palace almost in embarrassment all the way.

The sunlight was so dazzling that people couldn't tell the way. The city lord supported the wall and stumbled all the way.

"You - go out -"

He ordered the guards to leave: "Go out and play—I—I'm going to bed—"

Following the route in his memory, he turned the corner with difficulty, jumped over the swing, and pushed open the door.

A man sits on his bed.

The city owner patted him on the shoulder dissatisfied: "You—why don't you go out to play?"

"..."

"Go out - I, I want to sleep, don't - don't tidy up the room..."

Before losing consciousness, the city lord had only one thought: the maid's shoulders seemed to be much stiffer.