F.A. 2808/21st/Season of Frozen Sky.
The night in the village of Naifei’len was exceptionally quiet. A young human lad sprawling on his own family cabin with his mind miles away, eyes staring at the darkness of the purple field of Fei’nen. The weather was comfortably chill in the frozen-seasoned countryside, unlike Hodencrow’ay, filled with warmth the whole eleven seasons. He nursed the herb wine brewed by the family grange. The sweetness from the tip of the tongue and the cool scent teasing the throat buzzed his simple head.
“The party has started for a while, don’t leave yar’self here pretending yar lonely.’’ The Fathiyeth language had always sounded more attached than human ones in this young lad’s ears, especially from Uncle Zarl who had raised him for most of his life.
“ Right away, pa.” The lad finished up his big cup immediately and jumped off the roof after releasing a big burp.
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“Now yar just showing off.” Uncle Zarl chuckled, the dim, flickering campfire projected on his bone-pale skin, the stardust in his blue eyes narrowed into two streaks of milky ways. Zarl made his limping way, while the young lad holding him into the laughter coming from the woods.
The signature song of The Purple Garden Bar echoed distinctly as the two approached the spot. The purple leaves were blowing on a giant tree, weaving under the chill wind’s harassment. While fellows were dancing and singing alongside the crackling of the campfire in the centre.
“Enjoy tonight, lad. See yar never.” A strong yet warm pat struck the young lad’s shoulder before Zarl left to join another group.
The young lad picked a nice ground and sat, viewing the last night of Naifei’len blankly. Only Fe’yar would know how many among these people would survive the next few days. A flower swung gently beside his feet, attracting his attention.
“I doubt there would be a second place that could enjoy peace.” A tall, slender Fathiyeth woman with two full cups of herb wine sat down next to the lad.
“Haha, yeah, what a shame. It ends tomorrow.” The young lad took a glimpse at the woman. “I’ve never seen you around.”
“I’ve only arrived for less than a season.” Then she passed one of the cups to the lad and laughed.”But a season can’t really be called a long period, have you not been hanging around?”
The young lad shrugged nonchalantly, then spoke, “So, which side would you choose?”
“As a Fathiyeth person and a faithful Fe’yar Praise congregation, I’ll serve the kingdom without a doubt.”
The lad nodded, “Fair point.”
“And you?”
“neither.” The lad took a sip and sprawled a smile.
The woman widened her eyes, the blue stardust in her eyes shining.
“That’s odd, I thought as a human, you will certainly fight for the new home you people had built through blood and sweat, piles of dead.”
“Allow me to raise a question. Do you still consider humans as strangers?”
“Of course not, they have earned a part of this land for certain. I admire their strength.”
“Indeed, so whatever keeps the people in Moirae going, their spirits inherited from the last generation have nothing to do with me.”
“Perhaps I should take your spirit.” The woman toasted to the young lad and swallowed a mouthful of herb wine.
The lad’s eyes lay blankly. ”It was nothing. I’m just a fellow with no pursuit.”
The woman took a moment in her own thoughts. “But…”
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll work my way out.” He laughed. “Your cup is almost empty, I assume. Do yourself a favour, fill it half.”
“So this is your plan, huh? drug a woman on the last night.” She looked at the lad, amused.
He nodded. “Don’t forget to ask for an almond honey water from Uncle Zarl. ” She smiled while making her way with the cup. The lad picked the flower beside his feet and rubbed it with his fingers gently. As he expected, a light smoky scent hid in the sweet, berry-like, fragrance—Fe’yui the flower. He sniffed the wine, most of the smell of alcohol had faded into the air, and the sweetness was turning bitter. He rinsed the Fe’yui with his wine and rubbed it again. The smoky scent raised violently and blossomed with its berry-like fragrance. Just in time, the woman came back with two filled cups.
“Please allow me to drug you, lady.”He lowered his head with respect, while she passed the cups with a big smile on her face.
The lad dropped the Fe’yui into the half cup of herb wine before pouring half of the almond honey water and shaked the cup until everything mingled just fine.
“Please enjoy dosing, lady.” She took over the drink and sipped. “I’m nothing of an alcoholic, can’t really taste the exquisite flavour of your work. ” But she chuckled, “However, I like it. What’s the name.”
“De’von shanshiel.”
“Kaihiothie language? Begin…for the…darkness? What?”
He laughed. “It’s a dialect in this village, which means ’A farewell to jokes’.”
“A better elaboration could be done.” She frowned and tasted another bit.
“Just like you, passengers always visit Naifei’len. And those regulars at The Purple Garden can tell who’s in trouble, so they strike up a conversation, inviting passengers to have a meal in their place, listening to troubles and finding ways to make the guests laugh. The ingredients are all over this village, and the method is easy enough for amateurs like my kind to make the drink decent. That’s how it becomes everyone’s favourite drink while spitting jokes. The villagers often do this with their close friends when having bad times as well.”
“Now I get the joke part, so where’s the farewell? ”
He then gave a warm, cuddling, smile. “Because the jokes and encouragement won’t stay with you forever. So the phrase actually means: The world will always be ridiculous, cruel and harsh. But please remember the jokes being bid farewell won’t be gone, they’re hoped to leave an everlasting strength in your heart.”
The woman smiled softly as well, taking another taste. But this time was much slower, seemed to really feel the delicious touch spreading in her mouth. “What a shame, this REALLY is a good place.”
“I bet you’ll hear this a lot when the night is closing.”
“How about starting with you.” The woman made a good, nice, stretch with her cup being held to the sky. Then she raised her eyebrows to the young lad. “So, what’s the name? ”
“Smith Smith.”
“Ha, what a special one. I used to stay in Moirae for some time, but never heard a human name like yours.”
“Right? I love my name. It makes me feel unique.”
“Then, ‘a farewell to jokes’, Mr. Smith.”
The lad smiled. “‘A farewell to jokes’.”
The two cheered their cups, but the night wouldn’t stop for that.
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I have no pursuits, nor prefer to be involved in the war between Moirae and The Kingdom of Fathiyeth. But it seems like Naifei’len has no chance to avoid the erosion of this war.
A farewell to jokes. That’s where my journey begins.
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Right, before I continue, I should probably introduce myself, and what this book really is. However, in normal circumstances, you must be a regular if you’re reading these words. But who knows? Maybe some passengers will visit this humble village one day.
My name is Smith Smith. I’m not quite certain of which year I was born, only know my parents were both sick to death in the Moirae slum called Senyriel when I was little. After that, I simply snuck out from Moirae, planning to find a living ground in Fathiyeth Kingdom by my own strength. But what supply could a broken family in the slum provide?
By the time I left Moirae, I had only three pieces of bread and a big sack of barely drinkable water, plus 10 basic-mineral coins, which I even stole from a hammered gambler in some random alleyway. But how would a poor kid know the few coins ran out that fast just to get out of Moirae? All I did was get myself a regular clean shirt to avoid strange stares from the normal people in the city centre.
With the help of bread and water, I made my way out through a brook with the weakest military defence around the southwest cliff and finally left the human hometown. When I reached the field of Fei’nen, There were only half pieces of bread and less than half of water with me. A middle-aged Fathiyeth man with one leg crippled called Zarl found me at the outer rim of the forest while hunting. I then spent over a decade in his village, until all the villages in Fei’nen had finally involved in the war. And I certainly did not plan to return to Moirae.
So the night before ‘The Great War in Fei’nen’ I decided to head north, trying to find a temporary shelter with the assets Uncle Zarl had given me. I grabbed a notebook, a pen, and ink from his room. And I made up my mind to record the views I would see, the stories I would hear among the next only-Fe’yar-knows how many years of me wandering around the land to find a new place to stay in peace.
It was the year of 2813 after Fe’yar ascended when I organised my journal into a book, and this day was also the one-year anniversary of my bar.
As for this book, there is no specific theme or amusement like those great novels or folk tales worth someone to keep in mind for their whole life. Just for my customers to have some simple leisure in case they have nothing to talk to me about.
So please forgive me for my rather basic writing with some rather vulgar words from time to time. I’m just a hick after all.
The content in this book includes some true ones and some fake ones, while most of them are intertwined with truth and lies. But even if you pay for all my stock of wine, I won’t give you any answers. Otherwise, the fun would be ruined, right?
If you’re Kaihiothie, may you be granted by Fe’yar’s provide and enjoy peace with Ge’thi afterlife; if you’re Fathiyeth, may your eyes never dim; if you’re Morve’len, may your crops survive the Frozen Sky; if you’re Zotuc, may your mountains and rivers cuddle your castles and fortresses like a firm mother; if you’re Ivethin, may you can manage to pass down your civilisation under the shelter of Moirae; if you’re human…well, to be honest, I don’t really know what blessing could humanity needs. Besides, I doubt there would be any humans coming to this place. Moirae should be the kind of place a normal human would willingly spend his or her whole life in. (F.A. 2820/22nd/Season of Newborn. Yup, still haven’t seen a single human here.)
Anyways, In summary, I’m just a regular everyday normal hick, and the stories you’re about to read are just my journal I had been recording randomly, maybe you could consider them as fairy tales if you will.
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So, let’s continue to the first bit, shall we?
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