"Beacon’s sigh does include you. It was worried about you, because when you led the Vineborne away from Beacon, you were still so young."
The answer was completely unexpected. Dawn Cicada lost all expression in an instant.
Was it emotion or mockery. Surprise or guilt. Calm or release. None of it appeared.
After hearing the answer, Dawn Cicada put on a flawless mask. She was stingy even with her emotions, unwilling to let outsiders see even a trace. She nodded toward BS Rita in thanks.
"I owe you a favor. When Dawn crushes BS, I will repay it."
Rita almost failed to catch her breath. Even the coldness on her face cracked.
Soone even more deserving than Sea Pony of being poisoned into silence had appeared.
Even Lightchaser, whose emotional intelligence had long hovered below minimum operating standards, cast Dawn Cicada a puzzled glance at that response.
Only when Rita’s gaze followed Dawn Cicada’s departing back and she saw no new Vine forming did her irritation ease slightly.
Rita waited a little longer, but no second person asked whether the sigh contained them.
For questions like that, she was willing to give simple answers for free.
But information that could shape an entire race, such as Skycrab deep sea restaurant recipes, Fireglint jewelry formulas, or secret techniques to alter Vine attributes or colors, required sothing in exchange. At the end of the day, her relationship with World Sighs was purely transactional.
She gave Lightchaser and Ash Cinders a reassuring smile. Once she confird they had nothing more to say, she ended the call.
The ship slowed to a stop. A new World Sigh awaited her.
The vessel shaped like her soul fire was already half lit.
And there were still thirty days until the ga ended.
...
No Light was called No Light not because the world was truly plunged into endless darkness without a trace of brightness.
It was because we, the Candlebeasts who lived there, had pitch black flas at the ends of our hair.
Seven candle flas, each one dark.
In theory, the stronger we beca, the closer the color of our candle flas would approach white, growing brighter and brighter.
That theory was not wrong.
But most Candlebeasts were ordinary folk. When ordinary folk like us gathered to play together, heaven help us, it got dark.
And to be fair, that theory had a second half. Legend said that once the candle flas turned white, they would slowly darken again, shifting back toward black. In short, Candlebeasts seed fated to be entangled with black candle flas.
Of course, why My World was nad this was only my own conclusion.
My elders said No Light was called No Light because whenever we died, our candle flas were extinguished. Our world treasured every candle fla it possessed, so it chose this na to commorate every Candlebeast who had died.
All right, that topic is too heavy. After hearing that, I rarely made jokes about it again.
Living in No Light, the thing you need least is probably a lamp.
Because in our world, every living being, Candlebeasts included, glows.
Insects crawling along treetops, birds, butterflies, and cicadas in the air, fish, shrimp, crabs, and shells swimming through rivers and seas.
Their light, like the candle flas at the ends of Candlebeast hair, is understated. By that I an beautiful, gentle, and easy on the eyes.
The only truly harsh mont is probably in the kitchen, where you can clearly see which pests are sneaking bites of your leftovers.
But that is easy to solve. Just light an incense stick with the candle fla at the end of your hair and place it in the kitchen. Those pests will think the hoowner is still around and know to stay away.
The first to discover this trick were not cooks, but us, the Sacred Fla Doctors.
On their first birthday, a Candlebeast will randomly ignite seven fla tails on newly grown soft hair. After that, there is no changing it.
If you cut the strand of hair that holds a burning candle fla, the fla does not get angry. It simply floats upward in silence and stubbornly settles at the point where you cut it.
Even if you shave away all the hair connected to the fla, leaving a bald patch of scalp, the candle fla will calmly take up residence right there.
If you are lucky, you might occasionally see a bald Candlebeast in the street with seven flas standing guard on their head. Whether they went bald voluntarily or not, we privately call such Candlebeasts mad Candlebeasts.
They do not mind the nickna. If they are willing to walk outside like that, it ans they do not care. Otherwise, why would they refuse to even buy a hat.
In short, where candle flas appear is not sothing even Candlebeasts can change, just like facial features. We cannot decide it ourselves.
And yet, we are extrely particular about the height and spacing of floating candle flas. That is Candlebeast aesthetics.
Over ti, a mysterious profession erged. The Sacred Fla Doctor.
For Candlebeasts, moving the candle flas at the ends of our hair is no different from surgery.
No, I am not a hairdresser. Haircuts are haircuts. Moving candle flas is moving candle flas. These are two different professions.
There are nearly a hundred thods to move candle flas, all researched by brilliant Candlebeasts. They are closely guarded secrets. Only Candlebeasts capable of moving hair end candle flas are qualified to obtain a Sacred Fla Doctor license.
If a Candlebeast invents a thod to move candle flas, their entire family can rise on that single craft.
Studies show that every Candlebeast will move their hair end candle flas at least one hundred tis in their lifeti.
Just think about it. What a market that is.
No Candlebeast would ever publicly disclose how to move candle flas, and no one would demand it. On matters that do not concern the survival of Candlebeasts, we do not encourage sharing.
No matter how many Candlebeast Kings rise and fall, none would ever make such a demand. Forcing Sacred Fla Doctors to share their thods would trigger massive chain reactions.
Candlebeasts love play by nature. We love researching anything that makes life richer and more enjoyable.
Our favorite saying is, "Before the candle fla goes out."
When I was young, I used to foolishly ask my mother, "Before the candle fla goes out, and then what?"
It was clearly only half a sentence. Why did adults never finish what they were saying.
Later, I traveled many places, t many Candlebeasts, and experienced countless things. In the end, I returned ho and beca a free music Candlebeast, performing by the roadside.
I play every lody I have heard on my travels, sing every legendary story I have listened to.
My schedule is irregular, just like Candlebeast life plans. Our life plan is to never plan our lives.
When I grew up, I naturally understood what that phrase ant. "Before the candle fla goes out" was not teaching Candlebeasts to treasure ti and work hard.
It ant hurry up and play while you can, Candlebeasts.
Perhaps only sothing that could change the fate of all Candlebeasts would ever change that.
No Light
User Comments
0 comments from readers