Chapter 115 Right and Wrong* When I woke up from the dream, the window...
*
When I woke up from the dream, it was the darkest night before dawn outside the window.
The darkness spread out thickly, covering everything within my sight. Only the shadow beside the bed was particularly close, seeming to reach towards my forehead.
I raised my eyes and happened to bump into the dark green. The beam cast a vague shadow between his eyebrows. The other party obviously did not expect me to wake up suddenly, and his movements were frozen in place. It was not until I woke up completely that he took a step back as if he had come to his senses.
The clouds just parted, and the moonlight illuminated the face. The white pointed ears were stained with a faint red. The long silver hair was softly scattered between the sleeves and the bed sheets, and the light and dark were intertwined, just like fine snow falling on glass, smudged with soft and holy colors.
"Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to see..."
If it was Samuel who woke me up, I would slap him. If it was Sean who woke me up, I would scold him and then go back to sleep. If it was Neil, I would accept it helplessly. It was natural for Remiel to tuck me in. But now it was Odysseus who was in front of me. I felt flattered by being favored by a noble cat, and immediately denied it: "No, no, I just woke up. Odysseus, I heard singing before I went to sleep... You were the one singing, right?"
The blush seemed to flow, spreading from the ears to the elf's cheeks, and even tending to develop towards the neck. This was the first time I saw someone blush all over when they were shy. It was cute and funny. Odysseus seemed to have noticed something was wrong and was quite at a loss.
I couldn't help but laugh: "...Did you really come here just to see if I'm asleep?"
Odysseus rubbed his nose shyly. The moonlight at midnight poured down on him like melted silver, as if a statue was being carefully carved. People always like to use angels and elves as adjectives to describe the beauty of certain creatures. They symbolize the purest and cleanest in the world. As a follower of the goddess of nature, Odysseus is undoubtedly the representative of this sentence. When those eyes stare at someone, there is always a feeling of being drunk like drinking fine wine.
"...There's something else too. I wanted to fulfill my promise to take you to see the flowers if you still couldn't sleep. Do you remember?"
I vaguely remembered that there was indeed such an incident. When he left the Holy City and returned to the Forest of Elves, he promised me that he would take me out to play when I came here in the spring.
At that time, I thought this promise would never come true. After all, I would never come to the Elf Forest again. If my identity was exposed, it would be a big disaster. But I didn't expect that the world would play tricks on me. After many twists and turns, I still couldn't escape back.
"Are there still flowers in the Elf Forest now?"
I sighed inwardly and did not reject his expectant look. Odysseus nodded immediately: "Yes. I have always wanted to take you there to have a look."
The elf held out his hand to me. I placed it on his palm, and he pulled me up from the bed with a little force. The elf took down the coat hanging next to him and put it on me carefully.
"You know what? I've been waiting for a day like this."
The arc of his eyelashes was so close to me, like a piece of unmelted snow. I wanted to reach out and feel how long his eyelashes were, but it was presumptuous. The elf had no idea what I was thinking and held my fingers tightly. He smiled at me, like spring after the winter snow melted.
"Although it's not the perfect time or the best occasion, I always thought, if only one day, you could see those flowers."
*
The place Odysseus took me to was very close to the battlefield. To be more precise, it was right next to the battlefield.
The lush trees became the best barrier, isolating the cold wind from the battlefield. The figures of the dead were looming behind the branches and leaves, and the wind carried the lingering smoke and dust.
In the clearing just across a grove, the moonlight was quiet and peaceful. Odysseus said he would take me to see the flowers, but there was not even a shadow on the ground.
"This place is so close to the battlefield, will there be flowers?"
I cast a questioning look at him. Odysseus stared at the moon, as if calculating something: "It is because of the battlefield that they appear... Here they come."
As he finished speaking, the moon moved overhead.
As the moonlight shone directly on the open space, a hint of pink suddenly appeared on the lush green grass.
A storm suddenly broke out, like ripples from a sudden rainstorm. From the first sound of raindrops, dazzling colors flowed, occupying every corner of the vision with an irresistible wave.
Large swaths of flowing brilliant colors spread across the land, as if awakened from sleep overnight, sweeping across the field of vision like a tornado. The vigorous life breaks free from the soil and dances in the moonlight. In a few seconds, they bloom, as if afraid of being forgotten by the world, and try their best to exude fragrance. Thousands of pale pink and light purple petals reflect the brilliance, as ethereal as smoke and as bright as the sea of clouds. Then it changes again - the surging vitality begins to slow down. The nearly transparent petals stretch out and fold into a fine blanket. Beautiful, delicate, and pure.
On one side is a bloody battlefield, and on the other side is a surging tide. The sea of flowers sparkles in the night, and the thin petals are like beautiful diamonds, flying lightly with the evening breeze. It's like a flock of butterflies fluttering through the hair.
The empty space was now bathed in a wonderful light. The moonlight silently watched everything in the world. I held my breath and heard the sound of the sea of flowers swaying. It was subtle yet vast.
"This is the elves' afterlife flower. It is said that the first elf chosen by the goddess received a drop of the fountain of eternal life, thus gaining immortal life. She lived for a long time and witnessed the death of everything around her. In pain and loneliness, she prayed for the grace of the mother goddess and turned herself into the first afterlife flower. From then on, the afterlife flower has been entrusted with the elves' grief. Whenever an elf dies, the afterlife flower will appear nearby. Companions who know the deceased will plant a cluster of afterlife flowers. It blooms and withers year after year, bringing the blessings of the deceased to the living. And the moonlight will guide us to find them."
The branches and leaves rustled, as if responding to the words of the elves.
The silver-haired elf didn't seem to worry about being discovered, and walked towards the sea of flowers under the moonlight. The silver hair flowed on her shoulders like lake water, bringing with it the fragrance of the forest. People often use elves to describe things that are so magical and beautiful that even the moonlight has pity on them. Wherever they go, there is a bright light, which makes people feel moved and as if they are in a dream on a midsummer night.
He walked through the sea of flowers and came to a cluster of flowers. The small flowers swayed in the wind, dripping with dew. The young man's voice was soft and gentle: "This is what I want to show you. This is the flower of my parents' death, which I planted with my own hands."
This was the first time I heard him talk about the past.
"My parents were the previous Elf Saint and her guards, both of whom died in the war defending the Mother Goddess. I was raised by others since I was young, and was chosen as the Elf Saint from birth. I used to think that my life was not happy. Although I enjoyed the respect of the elves and could get everything I wanted, I was always like a delicate porcelain placed on the table. I performed my duties in a disciplined manner. It was not until now that I realized that this was not a kind of..." He paused for a few seconds and said softly, "Happiness."
If you have never broken the glass wall, you will not realize that you are a goldfish in a glass jar. Only after you lose something will you realize that knowing nothing is actually a kind of happiness. Once you understand the truth, you will never be able to face the smiles of people around you who are unaware of it again.
"I often think that everything I cherish is just a game. Looking at my companions who are desperately moving forward in this war, I often wonder, if they knew the truth of all this, what would they say? Would they collapse, despair, or wipe away their tears and accept it all?"
——It’s not just me.
When everyone knows the identity of their NPC, they are thinking.
Why am I here, how was I born? Meaning, future, value. I hold Pandora's box, but I can't tell the truth.
I asked softly, "Will you regret it? Regret seeing through all this, regret that I told you the truth. If you still don't know anything now——"
Before I could finish, Odysseus interrupted me and said, "It hurts to know all this, but for me, being kept in the dark is the real pain. My fate is uncertain, but at least I want to have the freedom to choose for myself. Not knowing anything is the most painful. I would rather die on the road of resistance than be a vessel that knows nothing."
"...Once upon a time, I met a kid who looked very similar to you."
The corner of my mouth twitched, and I could guess who the other party was talking about with my toes. Odysseus didn't notice my abnormality and continued to narrate firmly.
"I failed to protect him. I watched him die because of my fault. This time, I will never let anything happen to you. I will never make the same mistake again. So I don't like Kazhuo, and I don't like his son even more... Because of you, I can tolerate it temporarily, but only temporarily."
When he said this, a hint of murderous intent flashed in his eyes. I was sweating profusely and forced a smile: "Hahaha... So that's how it is, maybe it's a misunderstanding, it's all a misunderstanding..."
My voice became smaller and smaller under his gaze. Odysseus said calmly: "When he teased me, he should have known the price he had to pay. On that day, I swore that I would kill him in this life."
CD player, I miss you so much.
At this moment, countless plans have begun to emerge in my mind: for example, let the phantom of the CD player play me, and let him kill me once to relieve his hatred. Another example is to go to Kazhuo to testify and clear this identity. Or I asked again: I dare not look into his eyes. Only now did I realize that I had told too many lies to Odysseus.
It must never be exposed. It will never be revealed. It can only be concealed forever.
I suppressed the guilt that was surging in my heart and wanted to say those words, but I was worried about his reaction. If Odysseus knew this, would he regard me as a liar who played with his feelings?
But if I continue to delay, the longer I delay, the greater the backlash will be. I don't know how to deal with it, and I dare not think about the consequences. The elf suddenly leaned over to look at me. His emerald green eyes were the most beautiful grassland on this continent, enough to accommodate the sound of the wind returning home at night in the entire forest and a sincere heart. He seemed to be concerned about whether I was cold, but I only heard the voice of the main brain Remiel.
"You're not going to tell him yet?"
Some things cannot be simply distinguished as right or wrong.
I stared at my reflection in those eyes, my voice was stuck for a long time, and finally I sighed softly.
In the end, nothing was said.
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