crown of stars

"You seem to have known each other for a long time." Beatrice was a little annoyed, ignoring her one by one because of these two people.She decided to return to the Swan Temple after fulfilling Mirwin's oracle, and then recover her lost self-esteem from the noble children who came here admiringly.

"Yes, they have known each other for a long time." The dwarf came out of the door after paying homage to the Temple of the God of Death, just in time to see the priest of Milwyn forcing a smile on his face.The god of death is a very special god, and the gods believed by the dwarves do not prohibit Turin from praying to the god of death.After the dwarf Turin prayed devoutly to Jacob, the god of death, he really felt a slight chill that took away the restless vitality from his body, and he could still smell the decayed breath similar to the graveyard at the tip of his nose.After Du Ling felt the changes in his body, he immediately stood up and moved around, facing the golden sunshine at the door with a happy face.

"I remember that you would select the most precious and practical things from the harvest every year, and ask the messenger to send them to your friends." Du Ling's mouth buried under his beard let out a hearty laugh, "Speaking of which, I haven't I know your friend's name."

"Nigel," answered the half-elf.He was in a slightly better mood, and the influence of being kicked out was gradually fading away.Maybe he was not suitable to get along with that arrogant noble boy and biased red-robed mentor, familiar old friends made him more relaxed, and the dwarves and halflings who moved closer to him were also extremely kind.

"Nice to meet, I'm Sam, a small businessman from Falling Star Town." The halfling greeted warmly, and Nigel still remembered this guy who used to chatter in the Cold Winter Castle Hotel.Apparently, Sam had forgotten about this man he had met once.

Sam took out a bunch of odds and ends from a bulging knapsack and gave the half-elf a welcome gift.These things are not precious, just some common materials, but the shape is very unique.

Nigel's time in the Mage Tower was not in vain. Although Ansair was eccentric, he did lay a solid foundation for him, including the main races and customs on the mainland.Every halfling is a hidden collector. They always like to collect some small things that are worthless in the eyes of ordinary people, and run around for them, putting in unimaginable energy.This string of small ornaments may be the result of Sam's time spent.

"Thank you." The half-elf tied the string of ornaments to his belt bag. Sam's gift was indeed beautiful, and it brightened up the plain clothes.

"Shall we find a place to sit and talk? It's cold to stand here," the pastor suggested, effectively freeing himself from embarrassment.

The four readily obliged, and ordered a sumptuous lunch (the Song of the Sea was avoided at the strong suggestion of the half-elves).

Since they had just received the bounty from the lord of Winterhold, the four of them had rich wallets, and the long table was filled with fragrant meat.The half-elf and the Messiah sat together, the dwarf and the halfling next to each other, and Beatrice sat alone on the outermost edge.

Even with the oily reindeer meat, goat cheese and piles of apple pie, the pastor's appearance is still as delicious as a plump peach.The crowd in the tavern was buzzing and discussing, trying their best to glance at her out of the corner of their eyes, but no one moved first.The tomahawks and shields of the four men, as well as the unusual long knife, all clearly showed their strength. Even the priest had a three-headed flail hanging from his waist.

Sam and Turin picked up their wine glasses and began punching drunkenly, while Messiah kept his eyes on the half-elf for a long time, and exchanged in a low voice what he had seen in the past two years.Boring, the pastor forked a piece of rice pudding and mixed it into the jam.

That was definitely not an illusion, she was indeed isolated, no one would be too intimate with a beautiful woman of unknown origin.

The much-anticipated cannon fodder finally appeared.The unlucky man was a well-built man with no fight scars on his face, a short blue beard on his chin, and eyes that always looked tired and drooping.Such a slightly decadent attire has attracted many ignorant girls. They treasured him in their hearts, or pursued him openly and passionately. As a result, he lived a life without worrying about food and clothing.But he always hangs around in the tavern habitually, revealing a half-hidden silhouette in the shadow of the dim candlelight, and the young girl with a spring heart will pounce on him like a moth.

The man moved confidently through the crowd, pipe in mouth, and took aim at the priest of Milwyn.

"Poor little Nightingale, just watching others wantonly having fun like this."

It has to be said that the priest sat with his head bowed, his graceful and thin figure could easily give people an illusion, and the flail that lingered with the bloody smell of the frost giant was intentionally or unintentionally ignored.

"So the falcons are eyeing me, this poor nightingale?" The well-informed pastor flirted with him falsely and submissively, and he was no stranger to this kind of man.She hated such a man who deceived a girl's heart from the bottom of her heart, but the quality of the man in front of her seemed to be pretty good, and she could pass the time.

"Oh!" The man slanted his lips and replied in a deep and mellow voice, "I am not the killer who took the nightingale's life, I am here to invite you to join the dance at night."

The man stretched out his hand to Beatrice, with an unfathomable playfulness in his eyes, and there was such a thing in the interlacing of light and shadow.The pastor pulled out a knowing smile, put down the half-eaten pudding, and touched his palm with his fingertips.The man's heart felt hot, and he quickly wrapped her soft fingers around her.

With a little leverage, the pastor turned from the table to the side of the man.The man put his arms around the pastor's waist, but he failed to see the hidden gesture she made behind her back.

"The pastor is gone, do you want to say hello?" The halfling poked at the drunken dwarf.

"No... don't worry about her." Du Ling burped loudly, "The priests of Cupid are all such virtues, anyway, we are not the same as her. She likes to have fun... let her find it Bar."

The man took the priest and almost impatiently turned into his room in the hotel.The bedding on the bed was faded but starched and exuded a smell of sunshine, the tables and chairs were well made and varnished, and the nails were driven in so perfectly that they would never scratch the skin.The pottery vase in front of the window was half filled with clear water, and a bouquet of unknown flowers bloomed in the wind.There is also a stack of playing cards for passengers to pass the boring time.

"Honey, where is the dance venue?" A mysterious smile appeared on the pastor's charming face, "This place is too narrow to dance, why don't we change the way of playing."

She pointed to the neat pile of cards on the table.

"Let's play cards. The loser takes off one piece of clothing at a time."

After the priest left, the half-elf and the messiah continued their conversation.

"So you don't plan to go to the Mage Tower." Messiah said, from the perspective of the half-elf, this seemingly cold alien creature almost had an illusion of warmth.His own halo and candlelight blend together, showing an almost magical charm, almost dazzling.

After two years of separation, Nigel, who was less resistant to this kind of beauty, lost his mind for a while.

"Yes, I won't go to the Mage Tower. I have successfully become a mage and become a mage officially registered with the Mage Association. Most of the things I need are with me. The materials and spell books are enough."

The half-elf kept silent about the reason for leaving the teacher prematurely, and Messiah perceived the little mage's true mood from Nigel's not-so-calm floating breath.

"So there are still some things left." The half-elf thought of the set of knives. The exquisite silver knives were embossed with patterns of sea waves and shells. They were very valuable and easy to use.It's a pity that he didn't want to see the proud face of the Earl's eldest son, so he could only reluctantly discard it.

"It was made in Turin, and I can re-customize a new pair."

The half-elf swallowed back the questioning words, and it always felt a little strange to ask why this alien creature treated him so well.

"Then where do you want to go? Go back to where you came from?" Nigel changed the subject abruptly. He still remembered that this young alien creature did not belong to this plane. He planned to follow the instructions of Ariel in white. It is suggested that you go to the south to find a shelter. At this time, you can bring a strong companion, and the journey will be more secure.The halfling and dwarf quietly pricked up their ears, listening to the silver-haired youth's answer.

"Wherever you go, I will go." Messiah replied honestly, and as expected, he saw that the looming pointed ears of the half-elf turned red.inside

The mature and somewhat decadent man threw the last card on the table.

"I was completely defeated by you." The man was stripped to only a pair of trousers, and the warm flames of the hearth allowed him to stretch his limbs as much as he could, presenting his slim, shapely waist without fat in front of the priest of Milwyn.Beatrice was fully dressed and obviously never lost.

"The beautiful nightingale also has such a side." The man said lazily, but the eager eyes betrayed everything.

The pastor climbed onto the bed, leaned against his ear and whispered:

"Would you like to hear the nightingale sing?"

The man agreed without thinking.Beatrice began humming softly, a voice sweet and soft, full of hypnotizing magic.The man sank deeper and deeper into the vortex of the singing, staring at the pastor's increasingly blurred face, trying to reach out to touch her lips which opened and closed, and finally dropped his hands powerlessly.

The pastor stared at the peaceful sleeping face of the man, scraped off every copper coin on the man's body, gathered up the man's scattered clothes in an orderly manner, threw his mind into the fire, and then left the room as if nothing had happened.

By the time the man woke up and screamed like a girl being raped, the group had already embarked on a journey south.

The author has something to say:

The work income has increased by one more, and the favorites come out to receive red envelopes!I have been writing a bit messy lately, and today I wanted to sort out the plot of the future. Seeing that you are so enthusiastic, I will write another chapter.Not tomorrow, I have to sort out the plot, otherwise I will completely let myself go!

PS: On 12.29, the words and sentences were revised and the ending was added.