The evening in Port Behrens seems to arrive a little earlier than that in Feneport.
The gray gauze curtain that was still darkening in the sky quietly blocked everything, and the smell of cooking smoke quietly filled the entire street or the entire city. Everything seemed to be quiet, and it seemed like the middle of a drama, covering everything behind this silence.
Aurelio was still a little too impulsive. Looking at the dark stains caused by moisture in front of him, Aurelio subconsciously tightened the hand holding the cane, and then reacted at the next moment and slowly loosened it. He slowly and almost imperceptibly He exhaled, then raised his hand and knocked lightly on the closed door.
What should he say? Aurelio waited quietly for the response from the door, saying that the nightmare happened too quickly and ended too quickly, that he didn't understand everyone's choices until he entered the extraordinary, that everything changed suddenly but... But he just stayed in the past in a daze, saying that he always thought about what he could do to change the results of all this, but only found that he was powerless...
Many thoughts flooded into his mind in an instant, but disappeared completely in the continuous silence. He raised his hand again and knocked lightly on the door.
No response.
Aurelio reached out and pushed the door. With a "squeaking" sound, the wooden door was completely pushed open, revealing a room inside that seemed to have been completely untouched by anyone.
The only difference was the paper on the table that was covered with writing.
Aurelio walked slowly to the table, carefully took off his gloves and picked up the paper.
Familiar handwriting caught his eye, it was a small poem.
"Please don't shout at the back,"
"Except for the red dew on the thorns,"
"There's nothing there."
"The madness like the sea,"
"Echoing in the lightless darkness,"
"I still have lingering fears."
"Whether or not you exist,"
"Or maybe I don't exist,"
"Every voice is there."
"Please open your indelible eyes and your restless heart,"
"Look at the cobwebs and thorns that grow in vain,"
"Someone is holding a flag high."
"And I shall wear a crown of ivy,"
"With desolate memories,"
"Gone together in the shining ashes of time."
Aurelio's hand holding the paper tightened, and then he subconsciously loosened it when the paper showed wrinkles. He closed his eyes slightly, folded the paper carefully, and put it into the pocket on his chest that was supposed to hold the handkerchief.
"Let's go, the result is already obvious," Aurelio said in a calm voice, "Agnès doesn't want to see me."
The attendant behind him did not dare to speak, but obediently followed Aurelio out of the room.
The corridor where the candles were already lit still seemed a little dim. The noise of the diners on the first floor could be heard through the floor that was not very soundproof. There was a faint sound of music, with a clear ancient Balam and Highland style.
Aurelio walked down the stairs and subconsciously looked towards the place where the music came from.
It was a young man from the Southern Continent who looked to be fifteen or sixteen years old, with a delicate face, wearing a linen wide-sleeved burqa, with a thin build, bronze skin and short, messy black hair. His brown eyes were half-closed, and his gaze was focused on the golden head of the ancient Balan harp in his hand, with a slight blur, as if he was completely immersed in the music.
Aurelio subconsciously stopped near where the young man was playing. Then he remembered the large group of people following him, took a few steps back, and found a table to sit down at.
A little older than Agnes.
Looking at the boy, he couldn't help but think of Agnes's appearance when she played, and the concert that he and his father were unable to attend.
It's a lot more free here than at a concert, and Agnes will probably like it.
This was Aurelio's next thought.
He sat there quietly, ordered a cup of black tea, and listened carefully to the boy's performance until the boy's performance was over.
He subconsciously took out a few gold and lira coins from his pocket, then paused, waved to the attendant behind him, took a handful of Intis Cope from the attendant, and walked towards the young man. go.
"Thank you, sir." The boy said in a jerky and accented Intis language.
Aurelio smiled and nodded, turned around and walked back to the table, then uncontrollably turned his head to look at the boy.
The boy had already put away his things, and his figure flashed away in the corridor leading to the back door. Aurelio stood up unconsciously and wanted to chase after him.
"What happened, Mr. Viscount?" The attendant stood up nervously, his hand subconsciously placed on the weapon at his waist.
"Nothing," Aurelio sat down again, "Let's go, we have to go back."
------------------
The back door of the hotel.
The smell of mud and excrement mixed together to form a nauseating stench. Homeless homeless people huddled among them, staring at every door where garbage might be thrown out.
Agnes walked slowly out of the alley with the piano in her arms. A slightly malicious gaze swept over her body, and then she took it back after seeing that there was nothing else on her body except an ancient Balan poetry piano.
"Are you staying in the hotel just to meet that gentleman?" The girl quietly appeared behind Agnes and asked in a low voice.
"Yes." Agnes was still walking forward.
"You didn't meet him."
The girl walked a few steps quickly and turned her head so that her eyes could be cast directly on Agnes's face. She looked up and down, and finally asked with some confusion: "Isn't he important?"
"On the contrary, it's very important." Agnes stopped, turned around, and looked directly into the girl's eyes. There was a little deepness in her voice, and the fragrance of earth kept rising on her tongue. "Just because it's important, you have to exercise restraint, and I even overindulged."
"For me now...I will be shaken by his words and I will be stopped by his demands."
"This is fatal to me," Agnes lowered her voice. She seemed to see everything in front of her eyes again in a trance, becoming dazzling and blurry. "It is enough to shake my desire."
"The changes in the human heart are dangerous," she said softly and in a trance. "Once I have made a choice, I can't stop it. It is a never-ending dance that dances on my heart, unless I step into my own mind. Die to the part of yourself to which these belong, otherwise everything will be inevitable.”
"But which part is normal?" Agnes raised her hand in pain, and the lute with the golden bull's head fell heavily downwards. It was caught by the faint ripples and placed carefully on the ground.
"Am I the one who is thinking calmly now? Or am I the one who wants to run back regardless?" She covered her face with her hands, and yellow pus flowed down her palms, leaving traces on the white cuffs. There are obvious traces, "It's still not..."
"I'm the one who can stare indifferently from the side?"
