There was also a child lying on his side and not asleep.

"These stories are all fake." He said softly.

It's a boy with no legs. After the attack on the village, we found him half-dead. We couldn't leave him behind—I couldn't, so I bandaged his wounds and carried him on my shoulders.

"I think these stories are all made up. It could also be changed to lull us to sleep. ”

"As long as we believe it, the story is true." I sat down next to him.

"This god is a good man, but he doesn't care about us."

I nodded slowly, "I understand why you think that, but that's not true. I have one more story to tell you. This was the last story my grandmother told me before I became a woman. She wanted me to be prepared because this story was so different from the others. But I think your insight is more than enough to cope. Do you want to listen? ”

The boy nodded. I took him into my arms and began to tell.

V: The tragedy of the furnace family

Once upon a time, long ago, before Freljord was divided, there lived a group of artisans at the foot of Mount Orn. They claim that their faith is Orn. But if you ask him personally, the craftsmen are mistaken, because Orn will say that he has no believers. They did, however, build a small town inhabited by people who wanted to make the best artifacts in the world.

There were several thousand of them. They would make tools, make plowshares, but also carts, armor and saddles. They built furnaces and homes, calling themselves "furnace families" because they had never felt the devouring cold of Freljord, and they could walk barefoot on the hillside of the furnace country and endure the boiling heat of the soles of their feet. They became some of the best craftsmen in the world, and the objects they created would only be bowed to in the presence of Orn.

Orn occasionally tastes their work. If he liked the craft of a certain furnace family, he would simply say "Okay". That's the highest rating Orn can give, because he knew a long time ago that good things don't need praise at all. Do you remember that story?

Orn had never admitted that he had a great deal of approval for the Furnace family, but in the depths of his volcanic warmth stirred up respect for the artist. They don't need to kneel, and they don't need to offer sacrifices. They will not write down his words into scripture and reach the ears of those in the world who will not listen. Instead, they don't say a word and focus on the task at hand. These people are fantastical, energetic, and hardworking. The Furnace family made Orn smile—though no one was sure because his beard was blocking the smile.

On this day, Volibell came to visit his brother Orn.

It was not good, because Orn and his brothers had never been at peace, and they had never visited each other before. The giant bear prepares for war, so some weapons are needed to equip his army. Orn had seen his army, all oddly shaped, and they had made themselves look deformed in order to please Volibel. These people are simple-minded, have violent temperaments, and get angry at the slightest disagreement.

"Give them swords and axes." Volibell demanded maliciously, "And the armor, I will repay you well." ”

"Nope." Orn didn't want to get involved in Volibel's fights at all.

"Okay." Volibel said, "Then let your believers do it." I don't care. Do it. I'm your brother. ”

Orn was annoyed, and a flowing fire flashed from his giant horns. "The people in the town under the mountain are not my believers. They make things for themselves. They don't talk much, they work hard. That's it. ”

But Volibell sensed the passion in Orn's chest through his words. Although Voliber has many shortcomings, his ability to read words and emotions is indeed not low.

"They're your projections."

Orn's horns first turned red, then white-hot. "Voliber, if I see you again, I'll beat you to death." He roared. If you hear this threat, you will understand that if Volibell is smart enough, he should leave obediently and never come back.

But Volibell likes to fight, and he's not smart enough. So he dragged a piece of armor out of Orn's furnace.

"If you don't help me, I'll take it myself."

As soon as he finished speaking, Orn lowered his head, and a pair of horns slammed into Volibel. This time it can be described as earth-shattering, and even the top of the mountain has been shaken.

This is exactly what Wallybel wants. For countless centuries, the Furnace family's selfless love for Orn had fueled his jealousy. The Thunder Bear was thoroughly enraged.



They fought for eight days. The fight between the two was so fierce that the base of the mountain trembled. Molten ore erupts from the peak of the furnace village. Lightning struck the mountain intensively, and fountains of flames erupted from the cracks in the cliffs. The sky is red and black. The earthquake trembled, and the blood in the heart of the world flowed freely on the high ground. The people of Freljord all witnessed the battle between Voliber and Orn.

By the time the smoke cleared, the summit of the mountain was gone. But to make matters worse, all the furnace family members died. Their town is gone, only a smoldering pile of ruins and a fading past.

Many centuries have passed, and the furnace village without a hill has been standing in silence. From time to time, smoke billowed from the large pit at the top of the mountain. Some say it's Orn's furnace that watches over him, keeping the fire from flowing in the earth. Others say that he is forging a great weapon that will come in handy one day.

Others believe that Orn was killed by Volibel, as he has not been seen on the land of Freeljord since.

"So, the name and legend of Orn have been scattered throughout time, and there is no history written of it. And these stories, which only circulate in the smell of grilled fish, are the only memories of him. ”

"This story is so sad, so it's more like real than the others." The legless boy looked up at me. There was a tear in his eyes: "What kind of ending do you believe?" What happened to Orn? ”

"I believe that when the great masters come back again, it will be to reshape the world." I told him.

The boy smiled: "I'd love to see that day." ”

"Maybe you'll see. Don't cry for the furnace family anymore. You should weep over the stories that have been lost in war and time, because once there were many more than the stars in the sky. You have to keep repeating these stories so that our children's children can still hear the voices of our ancestors, so that the fire in our hearts will never be extinguished. ”。

In the bottom of my heart, I felt my grandmother's smile.

Warmth envelops me. The chill from under the bare feet is long gone.