Crimson Servant

"How long has it been since that conversation?"

"Which time?"

"[Let the storm come harder] that time."

Francis's eyes widened for a moment, and then he fell into memories.

The dark elf's thoughtful expression made Storm Norbrion sigh. He shifted his gaze to the table. Between the two of them, there was a brand new bounty list vividly painted with the name of the dark elf Francis Blade. portrait.

There was also a series of numbers below that surprised the captain.

Three years later, Storm had the answer to the question in his mind. He did not disturb the dark elf's memories and just looked at the dark elf's face on the reward list. I have to say that the person who drew this portrait must be an excellent artist. He accurately captured the details of the dark elf's eyebrows, his unique charm, and his sense of loneliness that is incompatible with everyone else. The painter must have seen Francis' face up close and personal and was deeply impressed.

Francis is almost the same as he was three years ago, and Storm is envious of that face that is still young. Unlike himself, the captain still remembers that his daughter Christine gave him a bottle of fish oil as a birthday gift when he returned home this year. The slightly older girl spent the afternoon smearing fish oil on Storm's face, and the captain still remembered the brutal force and rough technique the little girl used to smooth out the crow's feet around her eyes.

He is no longer young, and his friend's time has stayed at the time when they first met.

He still hasn't changed at all.

The captain looked again at the bottom of the bounty list, that string of numbers, that string of symbols, that string of records that clearly recorded the growth of dark elf Francis Blade.

"We've already had... gatherings like this, twenty-seven times." The dark elf's insensitive sense of time made him give an inaccurate answer. He didn't know what Storm would think of such an answer. Will not be satisfied. Francis noticed that Storm looked at him with a sudden look of resentment, and was confused for a moment.

Storm stretched out his fingers and tapped the numbers on the reward list that were a bit dazzling for Francis.

"Are you sure that after leaving my ship and going to land in these years, you did not do any activities other than conveying prophecies?" The captain scratched his hair and explained to his calm friend, "Maybe you don't know this number. The weight of it, Francis. Let me give you a simple example. Five years ago, there was a killer named Glyn Bures. He was hired to assassinate the lord of Walmore Castle, a man who was about to become king. He succeeded. Officials at Walmore Castle placed a reward on Green that highlighted his danger."

"The number above is only half of this." The captain rapped the number twice more with his knuckles.

Storm tried to find a look of panic on Francis's face, but no, his friend really remained calm despite the storm.

"Perhaps they blamed me for their misfortunes. I announced the prophecies to them, but panic and suspicion made them lose their minds. I remember that some of those people, princes, nobles and wealthy businessmen, were frightened. Finally, they made revenge on me part of their will.”

I knew it was so, Storm sighed, impressed by Francis' directness. Suddenly, an evil-looking dark elf comes to visit you one day (given society's low tolerance for dark elves, this visit may not come) and declares that you will be in bad luck or even die. Normal people will take this as a warning. A stupid provocation, not believed. And when real trouble comes, they will connect these into a conspiracy, a vicious trick of the dark elves.

"Is it true that you can't change it? Your way of prophecy, your mouth that doesn't know how to talk."

Francis looked at Storm, who was complaining with concern on the other side of the table, and lowered his eyes.

"I've got nowhere to go, Storm, because of myself."

Francis' dejection made the helplessness in the captain's heart disappear. He glanced at the dark elf with his eyes closed.

"What nonsense are you talking about? You are stepping on the deck of the Norbrion. There will always be a place for you here. The number of times you have boarded the ship has indeed become more and more frequent in recent years. Have you encountered setbacks on land? ?It’s okay, get some rest and maybe we can talk about your work at sea, Christine is still far from where you are, my friend.”

Francis opened his eyes, and the emotion contained in his star-like eyes made Storm's heart clench suddenly. That was an emotion that the dark elf had never shown in front of him, sadness.

Storm realized that Francis was not grieving the dark elf's own plight.

"I have found the pattern of prophecy. As long as I am willing to contact and get closer to those fragmented pictures, more pictures of the future related to them will appear in my field of vision, gradually becoming a complete future."

The captain pinched his chin.

"In addition to those futures that have already appeared in your field of vision, the futures of the people you are constantly in contact with may also be predicted by you. Francis, you finally have some initiative in your ability."

More thoughts appeared in the captain's mind, the prophecy patterns, the dark elves boarding the ship more and more frequently... all of them were linked to his sad eyes.

Slowly loosening his clenched fists, Storm put his hands on the table and looked at his friend calmly.

"I still remember your original wish, announcing those prophecies of disaster to warn those people."

"My dark friend, why don't you show your usual courage and be direct?"

"Tell me, what do you see about my future?"

"Am I dead? A very miserable death?"

The only sound left in the room was the sound of Storm's boots hitting the floor.

"You're alive, Storm, you're alive."

Before the captain could breathe a sigh of relief, his too keen intuition and wisdom tasted the subtext of Francis.

"In your future, you will be the only one living alone."

Storm stood up abruptly, crossed the table, grabbed the dark elf by the collar, stared at him with eyes that could spit out flames, and roared urgently, like a suppressed storm.

"Where are they! My wife and daughter, my crew, my family and friends, where are they!"

Storm was able to accept his death calmly because he had things in his heart that were far more precious than his own life. But when these were threatened, Storm sadly found that he was as manic as those who received the prophecy.

The captain let go of his friend.

"I'm sorry, Frances."

"Me too, Storm."