Chapter 417: Are You from Castel?
Grisha sat on a tree, swinging his legs, occasionally glancing down below, and sotis a silly smile appeared on his face.
Lady Nora had already been back for several days.
He did not know why. Clearly, in these past few days, there had been no raids, and Lady Nora had rely sat in the camp holding her flail. Yet, everyone’s emotions gradually settled.
Those fears and anxieties seed to dissipate at the sight of Lady Nora’s weather-worn armor.
Even if she just stood there, people felt reassured.
Many even worshipped her with reverence—this had happened before, but it was always stopped by Lady Nora. Now, however, she simply stayed quietly, allowing people to kneel at her feet and pour out their sorrows.
She was, after all, originally a priestess of the Silent Sanctum. Though the sanctum no longer existed, it was still normal to pray to her. Probably.
Grisha did not quite understand these things. He simply found more motivation each day to stand guard.
He was still too young. Hunting and berry gathering did not fall to him, and even standing guard was sothing organized by the children themselves.
Though the resistance had been forced to camp in the forest, they did not actually eat too badly. With such a vast forest, feeding these refugees was not difficult. But the forest belonged to the nobles, and those lords would rather see the refugees starve than allow them to make a living in the woods.
Grisha’s thoughts wandered, and he beca distracted for a mont. Only when he heard a sound below did he suddenly realize sothing was wrong. He wanted to hide, but it was already too late.
“Is this the resistance camp?”
A man looked up, smiling at Grisha.
He wore a slightly worn robe over a thick sheepskin coat, and on his feet were a pair of half-new boots. He looked entirely ordinary.
But this was the forest of the Northlands. Even if Grisha had been distracted, the crunch of footsteps on snow should have alerted him.
Yet, the man not only walked over silently but also noticed him first!
Grisha slowly tensed up, preparing for the worst.
“Who are you?”
“I am Isaac, from the Ashes’ Alliance. Could you help pass along a ssage? Just say that I am a friend from Castel.”
“Castel!?” Grisha froze for a mont, then his eyes filled with delight.
This was a word he often heard from Lady Nora. It was said to be an island in the south. He had no idea where exactly it was or what it looked like, but he knew that their ultimate destination as refugees was there.
There, there was no White Calamity, nor raids by the nobles’ soldiers. It was said that the lord there had promised Lady Nora that he would take in these refugees.
As long as the refugees had land, they could survive. They had once been hunters of the Northlands. They could break the frozen rivers to fish, and it was said that in Castel, the sea never froze. As long as they cast their nets, they would never go hungry.
There, it was spring all year round, without winter.
No one knew if it was true, but everyone wanted to believe it, though they hardly dared. Each winter, so froze to death. Could there really be a place without winter?
Lady Nora had told them many stories about Castel. It was always the sacred land in their imagination. If they could go there, they would no longer struggle for survival.
And the man before him was from Castel?
Grisha almost jumped up. He hurriedly prepared to slide down from the tree and call the others in the camp.
But then his eyes turned, and he stopped his movents.
“How can you prove you are from Castel?”
Isaac chuckled at his wary look. “Then how do you want to prove it?”
Grisha froze.
How to prove it? He had never thought about that.
What did Castel have? Think quickly.
“Um, do you have soap?”
“Yes.” Isaac took out a square block and tossed it up. Grisha eyed the block stuck in the branches with suspicion before cautiously reaching out to touch it.
It was slightly soft, with a floral fragrance he had never slled before. This—this was soap?
Soap was sothing he had only heard of when Lady Nora once t with that pirate captain. It could clean the body. Lady Nora had obtained a few pieces and treasured them greatly, but they were later lost in the raids.
Grisha had only seen them from afar. At that ti, everyone was optimistic, thinking that more ships would soon arrive to take them all away. But after that ship left, it never returned.
They slowly turned from wanderers into the resistance, chased all the way from the eastern coast to these woods.
Grisha began to believe him a little. Still troubled, he thought for a while, then asked, “I heard Castel also has fries and fried fish?”
“Yes, yes.” Isaac took out two oiled paper packets. When he opened them, the aroma of food filled the air.
Grisha swallowed his saliva, slid down from the tree, and walked over hesitantly.
The fried fish still stead, and the golden fries looked delicious.
Though he felt a faint sense of discord, Grisha instinctively ignored it. He stumbled closer, eyes shining with anticipation at the man.
“Eat, child, it is all yours.” Isaac smiled, patting his head.
Grisha licked his lips, thanked him first, then reached out and grabbed the fried fish. Ignoring the heat, he stuffed it whole into his mouth.
“Grisha? What happened?”
Suddenly, a familiar female voice ca. Grisha raised his head and saw it was Nora. She nodded to him before turning her gaze toward the man.
“Isaac? Why are you here?”
“Castel sent . They will soon co to fetch you. I am here to make arrangents.”
“That’s wonderful! This is not the place to talk. Let’s go to the camp first.”
As they spoke, the two began walking deeper into the forest. Nora looked back at the boy. “Grisha, you did well. Co, let’s return to the camp. Grisha?”
Grisha looked at Nora, then at the man, and finally down at the fried fish in his hand.
The fried fish still slled fragrant. It was the most delicious thing Grisha had ever eaten.
His hand began to tremble.
“You—”
“You are not Lady Nora!”
Suddenly, everything before him blurred. Nora’s calm, caring voice faded away. The heat of the food vanished. The wind and snow of the forest whistled straight into his collar.
Grisha threw away the fried fish—it was nothing but a piece of hard bread. He pulled a sharpened wooden stick from behind his back.
He wanted to shout loudly to warn the camp. But suddenly, a hand fell on his shoulder.
His voice froze in his throat, unable to co out.
The man who had stood before him suddenly scattered into countless threads in the wind, like a paper painting dissolving.
“Strange. How did you find out?”
User Comments
0 comments from readers