The Legend of Fatality

When Bai En woke up, he smelled the smell of boiled wood and the smell of unwashed body. Chill permeated his bones from the cold stone. He feels old. When he sat upright, he found that the pain from the previous night had returned. Holding back the pain, he groped for the analgesic lozenge given to him by the alchemist. Even if he guessed that there must be some bad ingredients in this pill, Bai En did not intend to refuse.

The light came down from the arched flower plate, reflecting the body that was packed into the front hall of the temple. There were poor people everywhere in the city. They came here to shelter from the cold and were locked together. Although the people here have nothing to steal, the two doors are still locked. Bian was surprised by these precautions. The door on the other side of the room was also latched, and the priests set a table in front. Last night, when he heard the door locked, the heavy bolt was pushed into the slot. He wanted to know if someone really would steal something from the lowest level. So far, from the situation of the border castle he saw, he guessed the answer is yes.

The statues of the holy martyrs looked down at their ragged people with somber wooden eyes. Although the production is rough and the price is cheap, they are hung too high and people in the front room can't reach without a ladder. He thought to himself that there seemed to be nothing to trust in this world. What a sad thing it was when Yodalla ’s servants had to protect themselves from the men they assisted. Bai En looked at the people around him. He thought it was indeed sad, but it was wise. These people look rude.

An old man was lying on the floor crying. At night, his wooden legs fell off his knees. Someone stole it or hid it. He crawled around frantically, asking if people saw it. An elderly woman whose face was severely tortured by chickenpox. She sat there coughing against a blood-stained handkerchief. Two teenage children huddled together to keep warm on the floor. Where are their parents? Are they running away from home or orphans? One sat up, yawned, and smiled. Her unkempt blond hair is full of hope for youth. Bai En did not know how long it would take for her to be knocked down.

The old madman who howled all night to come to the end of the world finally fell asleep. He chattered about the cancer on the edge of the world, and the rats at the foot of the mountain were eating. These entered the dream of Bai En, let him have a nightmare, dreaming of what he saw under Shifengbao. Bai En wrapped the cloak more tightly, trying to ignore the tingling of his shoulder blades.

Beggars got up from the mat, grabbed the fleas, and dragged their feet towards the temporary table at the end of the temple hall. There, the priestess dressed in white scooped the cabbage soup from a huge copper bowl into a wooden bowl.

"If you want to have breakfast, it's best to hurry up," said a dirty old warrior with swollen ears. The smell of wine in his breath was almost unbearable. "First come, first served. The generosity of the benevolent goddess is not unlimited."

Bai En ignored his words. He lay on his back and carefully looked at the cracked stucco on the flower board. A mural of a goddess treating five thousand people by the Heidelberg River slowly peeled off in the damp. The pigeons that perched on her shoulders were almost unshaped spots. Seeing it reminded him of his childhood.

He still remembers that in the first black tower, the priestess led them to the altar to pray. He was nine years old at the time. Like the other children in the Black Tower, he did not understand the meaning of doing so, and he even did not believe in this kind of thing. Soon, they began to get bored there—Bai En wanted to go back to his room and learn various languages, at least to make him understand what the people were here. Other children want to play in the sun outside rather than being trapped here, chatting with those calm white women and their endless chatter.

Now he looked back, and already understood the pale face of the lady of the night and the prayer she recite calmly. Although nearly thirty years had passed, the power and pain of memory surprised him. He forced himself to sit upright, knowing that he had to leave this place.

Grey Rogan was lying on the straw bed opposite him, snoring sounded like thunder. There is a special truth on his face when he sleeps. The rough lines eroded his rugged face and disappeared without a trace, making him look almost like a young man. For the first time, Bai En wanted to know the age of the oath swearers. Like all dwarves, he had a halo of confidence in him, suggesting rich experience. Of course, everything about this dwarf implies that he has endured the pain of a lifetime.

Bai En knows the short life span. He knew that they were not immortal like the elves in the story, but they lived very long. How old is this dwarf? He shook his head. This is another mystery. Surprisingly, he knows very little about his companions, because they have been together to travel to the school. Of course, in his current situation, Grerogan will not be able to provide him with any answers.

He poked the dwarf with the tip of the boot and noticed that the once good leather had worn very badly. Although the magic effect above could provide him with some help, these boots might not last long. He looked around the dozens of tramps and beggars standing in front of the priestess. The air was full of hawking, coughing, and spitting sounds. He looked at the shabby surroundings and his clothes. He realized in horror that he had settled here. The priestess never looked at him again. He and the oath taker looked at his temporary residence among the beggars.

He thought of Grerogan ’s desire to be remembered as an epic hero. Does he want to mention this in his poems? Even if Bai En does not know all heroes, has Gaitan, Marnus, or any other great hero ever experienced this?

Of course ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ Poetry writers never mentioned this. In those stories, everything seems so clear. The only time the great hero Gaitan visited a cheap hotel was disguised as part of a cunning plan. Well, he thought, maybe when I wrote this plot into the story, I could just say that. He laughed ironically when he remembered all the stories of heroes he had read when he was young. Perhaps other storytellers have made similar decisions. Maybe this has always been the case.

The old woman coughed loudly and for a long time. It seemed to be endless, rattling in her chest as if the bones were broken. She was thin and white, obviously dying. Bai En has a way to alleviate her pain. A knife from the back to the heart can end this old woman's suffering, but it is too risky to do so in so many people and in the temple.

Bai En sighed and gave the alchemist the last piece of analgesic lozenge secretly tucked into the old woman and let go. Zheng I couldn't save the world, but I could relieve a little discomfort in my heart, Bai En thought. .

After doing all this, he turned his head and did not look at the old woman again. He glanced at the mural above the goddess again, praying silently for her, hoping that the goddess could really heal the dwarf and the old woman. Maybe the goddess of mercy heard it, but she did not make any expression. Bai En sighed, maybe he was not religious enough, so he kicked Grey Rogan again.

"Come on, hero. It's time for action. We have to leave here. We have many mountains to climb and a long way to go."