Gore acted as their paternalistic during this time. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 Info When they missed their homeland, he was the only one who could communicate with them in Karad, and he told them the stories of what he had experienced, the blonde maidens he had met, the taciturn Kugits he had met, the fallen nobles he had met, the horse thieves he had met, and how they fought each other for each other on the battlefield. He always had a glimpse of what Feljans and Bascal were thinking, what kind of stories they needed when, and what kind of actions would make them know to be strong and put into action. In the beginning, he always took them with him, smiling silently in the scorching sun, and turning the day's trivia into a fun and emotional one with his old scarf in front of the fire at night. He would listen patiently to the reminiscences of Feljans and Baska, and to their unwitting admiration for a certain Salander girl, and then he would smile and stare at the flames in the furnace before him, as if it were burning with his past, which seemed to constitute some kind of silent telling. When the atmosphere fell silent, he would break through the secret feelings in the hearts of these young men, imitate the longing tone and demeanor they had just had, as if he had become younger himself, half teasing and half reminiscing, but always so sincere and moving, Baska and Feljans would feel shy on the one hand and happy at the sincere happiness of the old man when he remembered it. That's how they lived, and at last they turned their tacit understanding into a habit, and the smile on their faces when they casually talked about the seventeen or eighteen-year-old girls next door made them feel at ease. Gore is not only their guardian, but also their friend, and an indispensable relative in their lives.

Day after day, Feuerjans no longer remembered the time, and he often said to himself in his heart: yes, such a life can make people forget time, I work when I should work, I never spare my talent when everyone is happy and celebrated, and they are all more happy because of it. People here live like this, they don't aspire to heroes but they don't need to aspire to heroes, they feel happy for the happiness of the people around them, and that's a happy life. He feels that he has only found the life he really wants, and he no longer feels that heroes are great, but that the people around him are great. He did not stop writing poems, in the dead of night, when Baska was asleep, he wrote in two languages, writing about the ignorant and shy feelings between young men and women, the jokes of the honest and simple villagers when they worked, the date palm trees that grew silently in a desolate environment, and the slow but small trickle of life. He writes so sincerely, full of happiness, which is a perfect match for his innocent and gentle voice, he is the protagonist at every banquet, but he always stops when it is time to stop, not wanting to steal the limelight from the host.

The more he liked this life, the more he hated war, and how much happiness was lost by war, just thinking about it made him feel unbearable. The faces of his father and Marchko sometimes came to his eyes, and he had never seen the scene of their tragic deaths, nor did he want to see them. He was trying his best to forget his unfinished heroic epic, and now he felt that the tragedy behind that epic could not be buried poetically. He didn't think about it anymore, and the existence of the vanished knight didn't matter to him now.

The following spring, Baska was married, and Feljans became his best man. It was a quiet night, the campfire reflected the serene faces of all, and Felljans watched as Baska held his bride tightly with his solid arms, both smiling like children. He was glad for him from the bottom of his heart, and when he looked up, the stars were shining with great light, as if to give a gentle blessing, and tears flowed down Feljans's face.

"I'm so happy, I'm so happy. He seemed to be muttering to himself. The firelight danced softly and the people began to sing.

One night, the air was as cold as usual, and the unextinguished lights lit up a little of the air around it, making it look at least warm. The village gathering had just ended, and the people had dispersed. Feljans remained where he was, looking at the ashes that still had a little firelight, and for the first time after coming here he recalled the years when he had been running in the mountains of Rhodoc, and in the embers of these embers through the imagination of time gave birth to the bonfires of that time, the faces of the young men and women who danced, and at the end of the memories were the long golden hair and blue eyes of his mother. He told Bhaskar to go home first, so that he could be left alone in his thoughts. He had thought about going back to live with his mother, but he didn't have the courage to tell her about his father. Now the only thing that supports her mother's life is probably only missing her father and believing in herself, if she learns that her son is a farmer again, I don't know what she thinks? The gentle mother will only smile and give herself a hug. Feljans suddenly felt happy and sad, his current life was indeed happy, but it seemed like a false escape.

Suddenly, the figure of the mother appeared in front of me, she had become younger, slender, but still so gentle, she was meticulously sweeping the ground, her movements light and skillful. He couldn't help but reach out and take his mother's arm as he had done when he was a child.

"Ahh Fairyoungston withdrew his hand, his face flushed with shame, and he longed to find a crack in the ground to get into.

"I'm so sorry! Safia, I—" Feljans hesitated, not knowing what to say. The girl named Safia in front of her couldn't help laughing at his embarrassment, and then looked into Fairyans' nervous eyes with her watery eyes, as if telling him not to panic.

"Homesick?" said Safia's voice, which calmed down, her voice slow, her concern overflowing.

Feljans nodded, he didn't dare to look into Safia's eyes, but at her slender fingers, white and slender, gentle and with a certain feminine tenacity in the faint light of the fire. Her voice still echoed in his ears, and it was delicate and soft, lingering in his heart for a long time. When he says "yes", it doesn't look like he's talking about himself, but rather sighing at the beauty of this woman.

"yes, you don't think you're here. Safia sighed, "You're still a homeless man, and you take this wandering as an escape. ”

Feljans only felt that his thoughts had been said by him, and nodded, but this time he was looking at Safia's eyes carefully, which were a pool of blue, like the waves slowly spreading by the sea, clear and mysterious. But when he stared at himself, he went straight to the bottom of his heart, revealing a kind of frankness and courage.

"Then why don't you think of yourself as someone here?" Safia's tone was innocent and sincere, and she stared at Fairyans without blinking, "Everyone loves you. ”

"Do you love me too?" said Feljans, in a playful tone, as he had always said, but his heart suddenly longed for an answer.

"I love you too. Safia's face turned slightly red again, but her tone was unevasive, "It's the same as everyone else." ”

Feljans was stunned for a moment, but he was very happy in his heart. Safia's blonde hair hung down softly, glowing slightly in the warm light.

"It's late, it's time to go home. Fellyans spoke hurriedly, a mixture of panic and joy, exposed in his tone.

"Well, I know, then I'm leaving, and you should go back earlier. Safia's face turned even redder, and she turned to leave.

"Thank you, Safia. Feljans spoke earnestly and slowly behind her in his poetic, bright voice, and he saw Safia turn back, her flushed smile that would often come to his mind in the days that followed.

The next day, after finishing his farm work, Feljans went to Safia's house and asked if he could help, and so he continued day by day. He helped Safiya's family chop wood, carry water, and tell Safia's younger brothers about the ancient history of Kallad. His work did not win the approval of Safia's parents, but when he told the story, the usually naughty and noisy boys calmed down and listened with bated breath, not daring to miss a word, a scene that often amazed the couple, and they later joined the audience, and Safia was among them, and her crimson cheeks were often the object of ridicule of her brothers.

When it was time for Felljans to leave and go home, Safia sent him outside. At the time of separation, Fairians always read a poem to her, and although she did not understand it, she only found it beautiful.

"Understand that it was created into the world only to be close to your heart, to survive only for a moment. "One ordinary night, Ferjans said to Safia as he was leaving.

"Hmm. Safia's face flushed again.

"But I don't want to have only this moment between us, Safia, do you understand?" said Feljans, plucking up his courage and clasping Safia's hands.

Safia's eyes brightened, filled with joy and yearning, and she nodded.

"Your parents have agreed. Fairyans said with a smile, feeling the heat of Safia's clenched hands.

Safia fell into Ferjans's arms and laughed incessantly. Feljans hugged her tightly, shielding her laughter with his lips, and the night was silent, the earth was silent, and everything melted into this sweet kiss.

A week later, the wedding of Feljans and Safia took place, with Grandpa Gore attending as Feljans's elder representative and Bhaskar as the best man. Feljans finally became a poet for his wedding, and the villagers gave them sincere blessings, and the young men who had been jealous of him did not hesitate to express their praise and envy for the couple with their scarce and simple words.

After getting married, they moved into a new house like Bhaska. Gore declined their invitation to stay with him, and he smiled and interrupted Feljans' earnest plea, just as he had interrupted Baska's warm words. He knew that his mission was over, and that he did not want to disturb his life for the rest of his life.

Ferjans and Safia's lives are no different from those of ordinary people, but they, like everyone else, believe that their happiness is unique. Feljans went out to work during the day, while Safia cleaned up the house. She sewed new clothes for Fairians, and every day after supper, Fairyans recited for her, looking into her eyes, gently stroking her long hair, and whispering in her ear. When she returned from the city, Feljans would bring her small gifts, sometimes beautiful porcelain, sometimes bright dyes. Every time he came back in the evening, he could always see Safia weaving sideways in his family. He would approach her lightly, blindfold her with both hands, and ask her in a funny voice about his identity, and Safia would deliberately answer incorrectly three times, then look back at him and smile. They hadn't realized that these details of life could be so fun and enjoyable before. Their lives seem to be endlessly happy.

A year after her marriage, Safia became pregnant. At this time, Muhddin returned to the village and brought news that Asona had sent troops again.