"From very early on, I did not believe that the existence you and your parents believed in could bring about what I expected."
Xiao Milo held up the white mist of black tea and took a sip. His eyes looked at the haggard man sitting opposite him, as if looking at a familiar and warm flame.
"All my pain and misfortune come from the power that I didn't expect," Xiao Milo looked directly into the man's eyes and said slowly in Fenebote language, "But... right Father, to mother, this is a gift, even you think so now."
"I always wonder," Xiao Milo closed his eyes slightly, "Are your thoughts born from yourselves or guided by that disgusting extraordinary power? Or, you are no longer the original you, as human beings Has it been replaced by extraordinary power, and has become like this, whose original appearance is no longer recognizable?"
The haggard man quietly looked at Xiao Milo's seemingly calm appearance and remained silent for a long time.
"I don't know..." the haggard man said after a long time, "I'm sorry."
"Yeah," little Milo's voice was almost sighing, "you don't know..."
"I don't care what my father and mother are like or what they think of me," Xiao Milo clenched his right hand holding the teaspoon tightly, "but you have chosen the same path as them... .”
"So you choose to abandon the Lord?" The withered man interrupted Xiao Milo's words. His body gradually started to tremble slightly in Xiao Milo's eyes, as if he could vaguely hear the sound of the withered bones making sounds like broken glass. Crash.
"Abandon?" Xiao Milo laughed softly.
"You should understand that I never made a choice from the beginning." Xiao Milo looked at the haggard man with steady eyes and his voice was low.
"I am indeed angry that you didn't choose me, but that was your choice." Xiao Milo retracted his gaze, and the teaspoon in his hand moved slightly, creating circles of ripples in the light brown water, "But for me, the most important thing is What’s important is how inevitable all of this is.”
"Is it coming from your true heart, or..."
------------------
"New name, Sharif Hashim."
Agnes looked at the fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy reflected in the glass window and whispered in Tutanese.
She casually tore off a piece of paper from her open notebook, wrote a few lines, and placed it beside the table.
"Nightingale," Agnes called softly.
Vague ripples spread in front of Agnes. Nightingale appeared and disappeared in the shape of a little nightingale. She took away Agnes's suitcase, leaving behind a long-sleeved shirt and long trousers made of linen. trousers and a wide-sleeved burqa, and an ancient Balam harp decorated with a golden bull's head.
The girl sat upright on the wooden chair with a backrest, and tiny black spots were faintly visible in every corner of the wooden chair. She quietly watched Agnes put on her outfit, and finally spoke to break the silence.
"Your eyes are too bright and your clothes are too clean," the girl said softly, "for a West Balan."
Agnes turned her head and looked into the girl's eyes, looking at everything revealed in the girl's eyes bit by bit with an almost evaluative gaze. Then, the brown eyes staring at the girl seemed to be ignited with flames, and then gradually weakened, until they stayed in a state that seemed to be buried in ashes, almost burning but not extinguished.
"Thank you very much," Agnes nodded with satisfaction, and then said to the girl who froze in her gaze just now, "I'm sorry for scaring you."
"No, you didn't scare me." The girl relaxed a little, but her face became a little pale. "It's just that your too focused gaze will make some whispers in my ears."
"Is this like this? I've never encountered this before." When Agnes heard the content of the girl's words, she subconsciously raised her hand. She paused when she saw the black spot on the ring finger of her left hand, and then pressed her hand directly on hers. He raised his eyebrows and nodded slightly, "This is also something that can't be helped. I will try to avoid it."
The girl nodded without saying anything, and the room was completely silent for a moment.
Agnes looked at the girl and sighed helplessly.
"Well, it seems that none of us are the kind of people who would take the initiative to liven up the atmosphere."
The girl blinked under Agnes' helpless gaze and said nothing.
"It's time to go." Agnes put away the helplessness on her face and said softly.
"Does the content above not matter to others?" The girl looked at the paper Agnes threw on the table and asked aloud.
"It doesn't matter," Agnes glanced at the paper, "It's just a useless emotion."
------------------
"Is Agnes here?"
Even in the hot and humid Port of Behrens, the brown-haired and blue-eyed young man is wearing a gray mercerized long-sleeved shirt and darker trousers of the same color, a long coat with fine decorations on the collar, and black boots. Glowing under the light. He did not put his arms into the sleeves of his coat, but draped the entire coat over his shoulders like a cloak, holding a silver-encrusted cane in one hand.
Maybe it's still too hot in Port Behrens.
"It's Sister Pagani, Mr. Aurelio Pagani." The priest in brown bishop's uniform corrected the young man's title helplessly.
"Thanks to the guidance of the Mother Goddess, of course I understand," Aurelio looked at the bishop and showed a hypocritical and self-deprecating smile, "But no matter what status Agnes is now, she will always be my sister Ann. Genice Pagani.”
"Sister Pagani came half an hour ago, but she didn't stay here." The bishop sighed and did not correct Aurelio's title. "She said she was going to see the real West Balan." What does it look like?”
"She has the potential to become a saint." The bishop paused and couldn't help but add.
Aurelio didn't seem to hear his additional words and stood up directly.
"Thank you for informing me," he bowed slightly to the bishop, "there are more believers waiting for you to guide their souls."
Then he used his free hand to pull off the coat draped around his shoulders, ignoring the servants who hurriedly stepped forward to take it, put the coat on his arm, and strode out of the church.
The servant behind him apologized to the bishop again and again, and chased Aurelio under the bishop's kind eyes.
Then, the servant was a little surprised to see the young man quietly looking up at the blue sky by the flower bed outside the church.
"Have you heard about the whereabouts of Ella Boethia?" Aurelio threw the coat on his arm to the servant and asked softly.
The servant carefully took the coat thrown by the young man and bowed slightly.
"She checked into a room at the hotel next door three hours ago."
