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墨書 Inktalez
Alan patted the dust off his clothes, sighed, and then shook his head in resignation. He bent down and gently stroked the head of his sister, Eilena, this forever energetic little girl.
"What's wrong, Eilena?" Alan asked.
"Mom and Dad said today is the Four Symbols Creation Day, and we'll have meat porridge to eat!" Eilena happily replied, her black eyes shining with innocence.
Alan couldn't help but have a complex thought in his mind. These so-called "Four Symbols" had led their people to such a state, becoming slaves to nobles and priests, yet they still had to celebrate the creation of this world?
But at this moment, Eilena pulled his hand, looking very eager. "Hurry, Alan! The meat porridge is getting cold!"
Alan looked at his sister's expectant face and ultimately didn't have the mind to entangle those complex emotions and conflicting thoughts. The reality was, this bowl of meat porridge was like a rare warmth and hope for them.
"Okay, let's go," Alan said with a smile.
He set aside the heavy questions in his heart, held his sister's hand tightly, and quickened his pace. The two of them ran through the dim path towards the simple but lively slave settlement.
Alan and Eilena swiftly traversed the mountains and forests like a gust of wind, with leaves and branches flying past them. Soon, they arrived at a small settlement made up of dilapidated tents. The settlement, shrouded in the night, felt lonely and desolate, but the orange sparks from the torches provided an unusual warmth in this environment, as if casting a glimmer of hope in the cold and darkness.
Alan took a deep breath, sensing some unpleasant odors in the air: sourness, sweat, and the scent of earth and trees from the forest. For most people, such a mixture of smells might be unbearable, but for Alan, this was home, the familiar atmosphere he had grown up with.
"We're back!" Eilena shouted loudly, as if announcing their return to the entire settlement.
Alan tightened his grip on his sister's hand, a hint of a smile on his lips, but still unable to completely conceal the complex emotions in his heart. Four Symbols Creation Day, a day that should be filled with joy and gratitude, was instead filled with conflict and uncertainty for him. Why should they celebrate the deities who had caused them so much pain?
But looking at his sister's smiling face, Alan knew that these problems could not be solved now. Perhaps there would be answers in the future, but for now, he should enjoy this rare peace and happiness with his family and the slaves.
He shook off the heavy thoughts in his mind, smiled, and followed his sister into the simple but warm and loving settlement.
Alan and Eilena passed through the settlement, ignoring the various noises and bustle around them. The atmosphere tonight was different from usual, as if every tent was trying its best to showcase its joy and abundance. The aroma of food filled the air, mixed with the smell of wood and mud, creating a unique atmosphere. Various meats and vegetables were stewing in large pots, and some slaves even managed to obtain rare spices, making people salivate at the mere smell.
"Look, that tent over there is roasting duck!" Eilena pointed not far away, her eyes shining with excitement.
Alan smiled, but felt a wave of bitterness in his heart. These slaves had exhausted everything they had, just to find a little comfort on this so-called " Four Symbols Creation Day," or to gain the attention of the Four Symbols. But would they really get it? Would the Four Symbols really care about the lives of these lower-class people?
He suppressed the urge to ask questions and chose to continue forward. After passing several tents, they finally arrived at their own tent.
"We're back, Mom!" Eilena shouted as she ran inside.
Alan stood at the entrance of the tent, took a deep breath, and followed inside. This simple tent was filled with everything familiar and dear to him: a worn wooden bed, a small stove, and his mother's forced smile.
"Welcome back, Alan and Eilena," Mother stood up and wiped her hands with the cloth in her hand.
"Mom, we brought back some firewood and groceries," Alan set down the bundle he was carrying.
"Great, tonight we can have a decent dinner too," said the mother, turning back to the stove.
Alan sat down, feeling a surge of complex emotions. Four Symbols Creation Day, a day symbolizing hope and blessings, but to him, it felt so distant and unreal.
Mom stood in front of the wooden stove, using slow and skilled movements to scoop out the steaming meat porridge from the pot. The meat porridge in the pot emitted a tempting aroma, wafting through the entire tent. She carefully divided the porridge into four bowls crafted from rough wood, and then placed them one by one on the wooden dining table handmade by Dad.
Just then, the curtain of the tent was gently lifted, and Dad walked in. His face looked somewhat serious, but when his gaze fell on the family, a hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his eyes. He brushed off the dust from his body and sat down on a small wooden chair.
After sitting down, he glanced at Alan and asked in a somewhat questioning tone, "Where did you go just now? I looked for you for half a day and couldn't find you."
Alan smiled slightly, trying to lighten the atmosphere, and replied, "I just walked around nearby, wanting to experience the atmosphere of the city on the important holiday of the Four Symbols Creation Day. Really, I didn't do anything special."
Dad raised his eyebrows, his expression becoming more serious, seeming to convey dissatisfaction and worry between the lines: "I hope you didn't run out because you didn't want to celebrate the Creation Day for the Four Symbols. This holiday has a special meaning for us lower-class people. It is not only to honor the four heavenly gods, but also to unite ourselves, for the cohesion of this community."
Alan felt a wave of anxiety in his heart, but he suppressed his impending emotions. He nodded, avoiding eye contact with his father, and replied, "I know, Dad. But—"
"However, what?" His father interrupted, his tone carrying a kind of almost reproachful seriousness.
Alan hesitated for a moment, and finally decided to suppress his dissatisfaction, and said slowly, "It's nothing, you're right."
A subtle tension filled the air in the tent, momentarily overpowering the festive atmosphere outside.
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