Alos sat on the tavern bench, brows knotted as he struggled to decide what to do. He recalled old Sailu's words, his lifeless eyes filled with despair and hopelessness.
"Mr. Sailu, you wanted to see me?" Alos stepped into Sailu's sitting room.
"Alos, sit down. Let's talk. How's Mishaer doing?" Old Sailu lowered his voice, his expression troubled.
"She's all right, I guess." Alos awkwardly sat down, unsure of what to do.
"Alos, I'll get straight to the point!" The tavern owner and village chief stared at the nervous boy. "You know winter is coming soon. We still haven't decided who'll stay behind this year. What are your plans?"
"Mr. Sailu, haven't we always been the ones to stay behind?" Alos stood up in agitation and shouted.
"Sit down, Alos! If William were still alive, I wouldn't be worried about this. But William is gone, and the villagers are getting restless over who'll be left behind. We can't keep putting this off. We have to decide as soon as possible," Sailu said firmly.
"Sir, then what have you decided?"
"I've decided that no one will stay behind this winter."
"No! Mr. Sailu! You can't do that. My sister is too frail to endure the cold on the road." Alos looked utterly panicked.
"Alos! You should understand. None of these people are willing to stay behind. If I forced someone to, they'd take out their anger on you and your sister."
"Then my sister and I will stay behind, Mr. Sailu! Please!" Alos pleaded desperately.
"Alos! Don't be ridiculous. You and Mishaer would both die. The hungry goblins won't spare two helpless children." Old Sailu sounded angry.
"But if we go back to Mirabar, Mishaer will die too. She's too weak to make it there. Sob, sob." Alos collapsed onto the table and began to weep.
Watching Alos cry, old Sailu's heart softened, and he nearly gave in. But if he agreed, the two siblings would surely die. If they left, at least Alos might survive. Better for one to die than for both of them to perish. So old Sailu steeled himself and tried to persuade him.
"Things aren't as bad as you think. Maybe Mishaer can make it to Mirabar after all. Once we get there, we can find a cleric to treat her. She might even get better!" Old Sailu had never felt so guilty. Forgive me, Alos.
"That's final. I'll announce the decision to everyone tomorrow morning." Old Sailu practically fled.
"But we don't have any money. We can't afford a cleric." Alos sat in silent despair. At fourteen, he had just lost his brother, and now he had to watch his sister set out on a path to certain death. He was nearly broken.
Winter in the North brought blizzards and impassable roads. No more merchants would pass through Gnome Village. So, when the first snow of winter began to fall, most of the villagers had to return to the city of Mirabar to escape the bitter cold and monsters. One or two people would stay behind as Winter Keepers to watch over the village, preventing cold and hungry goblins from turning it into their lair and a ruin. But who would choose to leave a warm, comfortable, safe castle to risk freezing in such a desolate place, where the slightest mistake could cost them their life? The first Winter Keeper had been the adoptive father of the three siblings—an old, crippled adventurer.
After the old man died, the three siblings took over his work. William's strength and young Alos's intelligence made them more than capable of the job. By custom, now that William was gone, Sailu, the village chief and tavern owner, would randomly select two militia members to stay behind as Winter Keepers. Any member of the militia could be chosen.
No one wanted to face loneliness and death in a bleak winter. Now that William had returned alive, it meant that nobody else would have to stay behind and suffer. That was why the two militia members at the entrance had been so "enthusiastic" toward Chen Jinyang.
The militiaman who had just finished his shift happily walked into the tavern. Seeing Alos looking half-dead, he asked excitedly, "Alos! What are you still doing here? Hurry home and see—William's back!"
Alos lay half-dead across the table. "What does William's return have to do with me? What did you say?! William! You—you'd better explain! My brother came back alive?! You! I—!!" Like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, Alos sprang three feet into the air, too excited to speak coherently. The bench beneath him kicked sideways and crashed into the militiaman's foot. The man clutched it and grimaced in pain.
"Ow! Alos!! Ow! I told you the news about William out of kindness, and you hit me with a bench! Ow! Ow! It hurts like hell! You little brat!"
Alos ignored him and rushed out of the tavern, hurrying home. The sudden joy of hearing the good news and finding hope in a desperate situation made his heart pound as if it were about to burst out of his chest. With every fiery pulse, vivid red patches spread beneath his pale skin. Steam rose from his entire body, but no one noticed the strange change. Alos was too excited to notice either. In less than a minute, the heat nearly set him ablaze.
Chen Jinyang carried a bucket of water to the door and was about to open it when he saw a smoking figure running toward him. He wondered who had nothing better to do than perform fire stunts, and reflexively dumped the bucket over him, sending up a cloud of steam. Alos, his brain overheated and his consciousness almost gone, was jolted awake by the cold water. He stood frozen, staring at Chen Jinyang, who held the empty bucket.
When Chen Jinyang recognized him, he thought, Oh no, talk about a case of mistaken identity—I've drenched my own brother! It looked like Alos had just awakened his bloodline. He wondered if the bucket of water would have any aftereffects. Awkwardly scratching his head, Chen Jinyang tried to play dumb with a goofy smile. Then he saw the frail, thin Alos start to cry and panicked. Surely one bucket of water wasn't enough to make him cry?
Chen Jinyang was about to say something when Alos suddenly threw himself onto him and burst into tears. Between sobs, Alos babbled on and on, but Chen Jinyang couldn't understand a single word.
After crying for a while, the boy finally released the worries and crushing pressure that had weighed on him for days. Unable to hold himself up any longer, he tilted his head and fell asleep. Holding the sleeping, red-haired boy, Chen Jinyang couldn't help feeling at a loss.
"Sure enough, you really are siblings—even your sleeping habits are exactly alike. What a headache." Chen Jinyang sighed, unaware that the two siblings had barely slept these past two days because they'd been worried about him. Now that their worries were gone, exhaustion had overtaken them. Still, that bucket of water had done Alos a real favor. The boy had awakened his fire bloodline in a burst of emotion. The heat wouldn't have killed him without the cooling, but it could have turned him into another fool.
Chen Jinyang carried the red-haired boy inside, took off his wet clothes, dried him, and tucked him into another sleeping bag under a wool blanket. Looking at the two sleeping children, he began to worry. With two helpless children in tow, he still had to pretend to be a fool in this dangerous, backward wilderness. Life ahead was bound to be tough. Oh well, I'll take it one step at a time.
Chen Jinyang fetched another bucket of water and slowly cleaned the horned helmet he'd taken from the goblin chief. The helmet was light and had a nose guard. It was made of some unknown dark-gray crystal, and the two curved horns on top were not real horns either. They were translucent and smooth, covered in intricate, mysterious patterns, and fitted seamlessly to the helmet, as if they had grown there. If not for the obvious difference in materials, one might have thought it had all been made from a single piece. Once cleaned, the helmet was exquisite and distinctive, a perfect work of art. Wearing it on a goblin's head was an utter disgrace. He had no idea where those goblins had gotten such a treasure.
(In a mysterious mage's tower somewhere, a great mage was mercilessly abusing his goblin slaves. "You lowly, shameless, greedy creatures! You ungrateful thieves! Don't let me find that despicable slave who escaped. I'll turn its soul into an undead and roast it over the netherflame, making it repent for its crimes in eternal torment.")
Chen Jinyang was admiring the horned helmet in his hands—he'd tentatively decided to call it that—when he heard footsteps outside. He quickly shoved it under the bed, then sat on the floor beside it and resumed his innocent, goofy smile. A muscular, middle-aged man with a short beard and a prominent nose opened the door and walked in. It was the tavern owner, Sailu. He first stared at Chen Jinyang in surprise, then seemed even more astonished when he saw Alos and Mishaer sleeping soundly. He waved Chen Jinyang over. "William! Come outside for a moment!" Chen Jinyang knew he was the leader here, so he followed his gesture out of the house. This grown man who'd seen the world wouldn't be easy to fool. Chen Jinyang wondered how he could get through this final hurdle.
Sailu took Chen Jinyang to the stables. Though he suspected the accounts his men had given him, he still wanted to confirm things with William himself, even if William might not be able to answer. "William, what happened in the forest?" He watched Chen Jinyang scratch his head and grin foolishly without saying a word, then helplessly shook his own head. Pointing to Chen Jinyang's head, he asked, "What happened to your head?"
Chen Jinyang felt uneasy. Sailu was pointing at his head, but he didn't know what he was asking. Is he asking what happened to my hair? That's easy enough.
Sailu hadn't expected William to answer anyway and was about to say something when William suddenly began making strange gestures. First, he clutched his head. Then he flailed around as if on fire. Finally, he clutched his head again. When he finished, Chen Jinyang scratched his head and started grinning foolishly.
Sailu looked as if he'd suddenly understood. "Oh! First you panicked and ran away. When the ogre chased you, you were so frightened that you suddenly burst into flames. Then the ogre ran off in fright, and you lost your hair and hid. Finally, you returned to the campsite and brought back the adventuring party's belongings." Sailu looked at Chen Jinyang as if his guess had been right, his expression full of pity.
"William, you really did awaken a sorcerer's bloodline. What a shame! If only you were normal. Sigh!"
Chen Jinyang kept scratching his head and grinning foolishly, as he always did. This guy keeps changing expressions, muttering and sighing. Did he understand my gestures? No way—I don't even know what I meant.
Sailu dragged Chen Jinyang along and rambled on for a while. After washing the dirt off him, he found a few clothes in the tavern's sitting room for him to change into. Then Chen Jinyang joined the villagers for dinner at the tavern—a big chunk of bread and potato stew. Everyone came over to greet him while he ate, and took the opportunity to rub his smooth head. Chen Jinyang stiffly answered them all with a goofy smile.
Before he'd finished his food, Chen Jinyang's facial muscles had grown so stiff they nearly cramped. He fled, leaving the whole tavern roaring with laughter.
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