"Her Majesty has instructed that everything needed during the banquet should be prepared, and there is no need for adults to prepare it themselves. Pen @ fun @ pavilion wWw. ｂｉｑUｇE。 info "The knight read it out as if it had been prepared in advance.

"Then I'll have to take some time to tell me what's going on in the manor, give me five minutes. ”

The knight looked struggling, as if recalling the established combinations he had memorized, and finally said with difficulty and some hesitation, "All right, but not more than five minutes." ”

Fatis quickly walked into the inner hall, James and Feljans still laughing at each other. He suddenly felt a little unbearable, and stood in front of the door, his body trembling, as if trying to remember the current scene. But it was only for a moment, and that calm Fatis returned.

Asona invited me to her banquet in Palaubun, where the knights of her guard were now waiting for me outside the door. Fatis sighed and looked at James with a complicated look in his eyes.

And then the laughter died down, and silence ensued.

"I'll go with you. James spoke suddenly, in a serious tone.

"I don't think she knew you were with me. ”

"Haven't you heard the old Calradian proverb: there will be no more intact eggs in a tumbled hen's coop? James said with a wry smile.

There was silence again, and then both of them looked at Ferjans, who knew nothing and innocently asked, "Is there anything wrong with that?"

James burst out laughing, as if swallowing up the dead silence at once.

"Not necessarily for him. Well, you are here with Feljans, and if I do not come back in five days' time, you will know what is going on. Fatis said as he looked at Ferjans, the kind of affection that Ferjans had seen in his mother's eyes, but his mother's was not as powerful.

"Understood, you go. James waved his hand.

Fatis turned and walked out the door, and the knight humbly followed him. James and Ferjans watched them leave from behind the door, and it was morning outside, and the sun was shining brightly and brightly, and the figure of Fatis flashed in the harsh sunlight. He mounted his horse, whipped his whip, and departed, quickly turning into a tiny black dot on the plain. Felljans suddenly felt so illusory, and in a trance, he felt that Fatis was still so young, and he was still galloping on the plains like that, under the countless rays of the sun, turned into a tiny black dot, and then disappeared, as if this was how he existed, like a man ready to die.

"Maybe Griffos did the right thing, but he went the wrong way. James muttered, as if speaking to himself, "Leon is like a man who holds water in his hand to reflect the moonlight, and everyone is attracted to the moonlight and believes in the great magic of his hands. But doesn't the real water come from the river and flow into the sea?"

Fairyans was still confused, but he could see the little tears in the corners of James's eyes.

Let's go, boy, to faraway Salander, where the veil of mystery has not yet been fully revealed, and where we have a friend who is incognito. "Just don't forget your mother, and these old friends of hers." ”

Fairyans didn't understand what James meant, but he understood the danger he was in. "Come with me, Uncle James Smith, and take care of you. He grabbed James by the hand and tried to pull him out.

"No, the old guy said that he would wait for 5 days, and since I promised him, I will not break my promise. James waved his hand.

"If you don't go, I won't go," said Feuerjans earnestly, and stood still after speaking.

"Well, you go first. Wait 5 days after arriving in Uxhall, and then I'll come to you with news. James said calmly, and his words were so categorical that Ferjans could not refuse, so he agreed.

James himself came to see him off at the door, still wearing the same pilgrim's suit, and Feljans bowed to him, tearing off a little of the corner of his shirt, hoping to see him again in the future. James knew his sincere heart, and he couldn't help but be moved. The young poet mounted his horse and disappeared into the distant woods, his heart full of the bitterness of farewell and the hope of reunion.

Uxhall is a small town that stands out between Viruga and Suno. People who travel between the Rhodok Mountains and the Sunoy Plains sometimes stop here late in the evening, but more often than not, those who come here to play. As a result, there is no such hustle and bustle as a big town, and it is as quiet and comfortable as the residents who live here. Tourists often say that Uxhall is like a quiet and shy girl. It was located on a small plain on the edge of the Suno Plain, and the Wincord River flowed around it, and from a high place, it looked like a plain and soft gauze scarf, which hung gently on the girl's breast. To the south is Mount Wincord, whose peaks are covered with snow all year round, and the pure white hue flashes among the clouds, which is mysterious and moving, adding a sense of purity. This is probably one of the reasons for the girl's name.

When Felljans arrived in Uxhall, he was also deeply moved by the atmosphere, and instead of thinking about winning the applause of the crowd in the tavern at night, he booked a bed early and rested for the night. The next morning, I felt upset, worried that James was coming. However, he was still sensible, and knew that the best thing to do now was to wait, and in three days he would know what was going on with James, so he should hold back his worries for the time being. He went downstairs to the tavern hall, the hall was empty, the firewood in the fireplace seemed to be extinguished not long ago, the boss was still napping at the front desk, he felt in a trance that his previous life was not real, such a quiet and plain seemed to be the essence of life, the picture of life in Laiwulun Village once appeared vaguely, the low bungalows, the narrow village road, the sink in front of the door, the unknown stream in front of the village. He sat down in a daze, as if struck by some emotion, and lost the ability to move in reality.

The young poet finally recovered from his emotions and, for the first time, had the urge to settle down somewhere. What kind of life is he seeking now? What does this unfinished epic, those well-known heroes, and the legends passed down by word of mouth have to do with him? Is it true that this trip of his own is only born out of a simple longing for it? Enthusiasm will eventually be annihilated, how can it support the way forward? He took out the psalms that had been written in Djerkhara, in which he and his companions were encapsulated, and joy and guilt appeared in his heart at the same time, and in his heart there was the struggle of his own creation, which is common among young men. This is often the case with young fantasies, but this sentimentality is only temporary, because the real blows of life will come one after another, throwing them out of all emotions and throwing them hard into the earth of reality, forcing them to raise their heads and prop up their bodies, otherwise they will rot in mediocrity. The lovely poet could not help but begin to appreciate the recitation, and the beautiful and majestic psalms had a unique power that saved him from this emotion. Feuerjans played the lute, and the melodious notes flowed gently into the quiet streets, like a warm morning sun rising silently from the horizon.

In this way, Feuerhans returned to writing, revising and calibrating the sound of each stanza, and carefully considering the wording of each sentence, proving that his talent for not yet being named was unquestionable, and the three days passed quickly.

Early on the morning of the third day, Feljans packed up the manuscript of the poem and tied the corners of his clothes that day to his hands, hoping that if he accidentally missed James, James would recognize him at a glance. He came out into the street, at first anxiously waiting, then began to pace the street, looking around, joking with himself, how could he not recognize James's bald head, and reassuring himself that perhaps he was two days late. Just as he was thinking nonsense, a pair of hands patted him on the shoulder, and he suddenly became excited, turned around, only to find that it was just an ordinary middle-aged peasant woman in front of him.

"You're Ferjans, aren't you?" Before Ferjans could recover his senses, the peasant woman asked first, and Ferjans couldn't help but be taken aback.

"Ah, I am, may I ask you what's the matter?"

"I'm from Elindaha, and Master James asked me to hand you a letter. And here are 2,000 dinars, which he asked me to give you. When the peasant woman finished speaking, she turned and left. Puzzled, Fairyans opened the letter and read it.

Dear Fairians, by the time you receive this letter, I will be almost in Paraven. Fatis didn't come back, and I had to go find him. But you don't have to, you're a young man who has nothing to do with us dying people, you're so talented and so determined. What does that have to do with you? On the other hand, if you really look into the deeds of the so-called heroes of the past, you will find that you can't be a poet anymore. I know that you will not believe what I say now, but I still want to advise you to take your poetry manuscript and go back to study hard, this 2,000 dinars should be enough to buy a small piece of land to support your future life, and it will not be difficult to gain fame and fortune for ten years. The sun shines from the sky, and countless things will have their own projections, how can you tell the difference between reality and fiction? Remember the parable I told you? Those hands may have great magic, but the moonlight can also be found in the flowing water, don't be too much after anything, remember this proverb: no matter the sand and the stone, the water sinks to the bottom. Your older buddy James

Feljans took the letter, and his hands trembled terribly, not knowing whether he was angry or disappointed. The sun was scorching, and there was only the slight sound of footsteps on the narrow streets, and many shadows lay flat on the ground, as if they were sighing silently.