"Aurore attacked me."
These words echoed in Lumian's ears, like a dam suddenly collapsing. The bursting flood rushed into his mind, washing out all the bloody cracks that were originally buried under the silt.
Pale, painful, and piercing, Lumian saw those scenes again: he saw the parish priest Guillaume Bennet trapped in the wilderness by a large number of sackcloth-clad undead.
I saw Mrs. Pualis flying in the air with her wings spread.
I saw the blond figure reflected in her eyes. It was Aurora.
Lumian also saw the walls on the third floor of the castle, which were covered with bluish-white transparent faces.
Saw Louise Lund giving birth.
Saw Sybil Berry reborn in the body of a maid.
I saw Guillaume Bennet, Pierre Berry, Ponce Bennet and other fatalistic believers fighting with the midwife, administrator Beaust and others.
And all these images come from his own sight, from the fist-sized bubbles floating in the air.
"Blank paper..."
Lumian's expression twisted, and he leaned back in pain. The blood vessels on his body were protruding one by one, bluish and purple, densely packed.
At the same time, the words left by psychiatrist Susie flashed through his mind: "Always remember not to get too emotional. Once you have a similar reaction, immediately use deep breathing and other methods to calm your mood and ease your state."
Lumian gasped for breath, as if the surroundings had become a vacuum.
Mrs. Pualis saw his appearance and said with a little sympathy: "You have indeed forgotten a lot of things. No, you have buried them deep in your heart and dare not touch them." I was also in pain and very uncomfortable at the time. After becoming a "witch", I met a woman who could really touch my heart. She was so charming, so kind, so quiet, and so lively. I couldn't believe that she would attack me and block me as a follower of the evil god.
"At that time, she was already a 'life hunter'. She was more affected by fate than Guillaume Bene."
Lumian couldn't help but raise his hands and hold his head down, as if it was about to explode from the inside out.
As he took deep breaths, he recalled Auror, who never took his stories about the strange things in the village seriously, Auror, who told him not to look at things he shouldn't, Auror, who always sat on the roof at night looking at the stars, the transparent "lizard" that came out of Auror's mouth in his dream, and Naaraiza and others who were the first to spread the heresy of constellations and were the ones who were close to Auror.
Along with all this, he also remembered that after he discovered Raymond Ava's death, he tried to take revenge on Poncebene but failed, was caught by the group, suffered a little torture but was finally released.
I remembered Aurore, who was as solemn and worried as I was, and who cut out the little blue book to piece together the letter for help. I remembered Aurore, who explained the knowledge of mysticism to me. I remembered Aurore, who moved her eyes during the ceremony, as if she came alive and pushed herself out of the altar.
Huh, huh... Lumian was breathing heavily, as if he was still in the nightmare and had not woken up yet.
Mrs. Pualis sighed softly, "I should have discovered her abnormality earlier. Although the frequency of her visits to me and my visits to her is not high, I have long noticed that she likes to look up at the stars at night and always says some strange words about her "homeland". In the field of mysticism, the "starry sky" is a very dangerous thing, especially for extraordinary people. Later, I wanted her to believe in the Great Mother, but it was too late."
Lumian's lips moved, and he asked with great difficulty: "When did she start to become abnormal?"
He remembered clearly that Aurore had always looked up at the stars and missed her hometown. But nothing happened in the first few years. Of course, Lumian admitted that Aurore had indeed looked up at the stars more frequently in the past year, but he couldn't remember why.
When did it become like that
Mrs. Pualis shook her head, restrained the rest of her emotions, and said with a smile: "You should ask yourself, you are with her every day, but I am not. Sometimes I am jealous of you, and sometimes I think you are not bad. Why should we stick to the rules of vulgar society instead of letting go of ourselves and enjoying the joy of life?"
Lumien seemed not to hear what Mrs. Pualis said. He still buried his body, pressed his head, looked at the floor in the carriage and asked to himself: "Who, who made her believe in fate?"
"Maybe only she knows the answer, what a pity." Mrs. Pualis sighed again.
Lumian fell silent, taking deep breaths.
Once, twice, three times, after an unknown amount of time, he finally straightened his back, put down his hands, and looked at Mrs. Pualis: "Have you seen a kind of elf that looks like a lizard in the village?"
"No." Mrs. Pualis shook her head.
Is the transparent "lizard" in my dream just a symbol, representing the belief in fate, or does it also exist in reality, but is hidden very deeply? Lumian kept thinking, as if only in this way would he not trigger the sharp blades that were inserted into his heart.
He asked a new question: "Have you heard of the legend of the wizard? The one where it takes nine oxen to pull the coffin?"
"No." Mrs. Pualis shook her head again.
Lumien asked one question after another. In the end, he no longer knew what he was asking, nor did he know if Mrs. Pualis had answered. Even her face became blurry and unclear in his memory, as if she was dozens or hundreds of meters away.
At some point, the carriage stopped, and Lumian returned to the roadside in a daze, walking forward aimlessly without stopping for a moment.
Ding, ding, ding.
The church bells rang and the time came to midnight.
Lumian suddenly regained consciousness and found himself back outside the Golden Rooster Inn.
He instinctively went up the steps and prepared to push open the door, but after a few seconds of hesitation, he retreated to the street. He dragged his feet and walked towards the end of the chaotic street like a wandering soul.
He walked all the way to the market avenue. The sky, which had been gloomy all night, was finally covered with dark clouds, and there was no sight of the red moon or the stars.
Lumian arrived at the door of the Breeze Ballroom and heard the fierce drum beats and noisy voices inside, which was extremely lively.
As if he could not bear this kind of environment, he turned around abruptly, staggered to the side of the road, found a shadow far away from the nearest gas street lamp, and sat down on the ground.
Plop, plop, as time passed, drops of rain fell to the ground, fell on Lumian's head, and fell in front of his eyes.
The raindrops gradually became more frequent, and the sound of pattas merged into one.
Lumian did not move, as if he had turned into a statue, letting the rain wet his hair, moisten his face, and soak his clothes.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared above his head and the falling raindrops disappeared.
Lumian looked up blankly and saw a dark blue umbrella, the metal frame supporting the cloth, and Janna holding the umbrella handle.
He withdrew his gaze and looked blankly at the center of the road where mist was already splashing. He did not try to stop Janna, nor did he pay any attention to her.
Janna wore heavy smoky makeup and a red low-cut sequined dress with a light-colored shawl with large holes on her shoulders, which didn't make her look particularly revealing.
She stared at Lumian for a few seconds, without asking any questions, and continued to stand beside him, holding the umbrella.
The heavy rain lasted for a full hour before it subsided. Only drops of water occasionally fell from the buildings on both sides and the roadside lamps.
Lumian stood up slowly, as if he had lost something.
As Janna put away her umbrella, she said to herself, "The rain will eventually stop, just like the darkness will eventually pass. The sun will eventually rise, and the light will eventually shine on the earth."
Lumian was silent for a while, looking at the dark road ahead and said: "When you find that someone you trust is not as you thought,
How would you feel if that happened?"
Instead of answering his question, Jana asked, "Do you still believe in him?"
Lumian pursed his lips and answered without hesitation: "Believe it."
"Since you still believe in him, then go find out why he did that." Janna said in a calm tone.
Lumian's hands were trembling slightly. He took a deep breath again, several times in a row. Finally, his body no longer felt any abnormality. Only then did he turn his head and look at Janna: "Why are you here?"
Jana replied angrily and amusedly: "Fuck, this is outside the Breeze Ballroom. I didn't have to go to the theater today, so I came here to sing and earn money in the evening. I just finished and went out and saw you sitting on the side of the road, getting wet in the rain like an idiot."
Lumian withdrew his gaze and walked forward without any expression. He stepped on the puddles and walked towards White Coat Street at a fairly fast speed.
"Where are you going?" Janna asked a little worriedly.
Lumian said without turning his head, "Go find the reason."
He remembered the words Aurore left behind when she pushed herself away from the altar: "My... notes."
Considering the current situation, Lumian suspected that his sister was telling him that he could find clues to the source of the anomaly in her witchcraft notes.
Jenna followed Lumian with an umbrella and asked tentatively, "Can you find the cause in just one night?"
“It may take a long time.” Lumian replied impatiently.
Jenna muttered, "Then why are you in such a hurry? Get some rest and clear your mind. Maybe it will help you find the cause faster."
Lumian thought about his inability to understand many of the contents in the witchcraft notes and his lack of knowledge of mysticism, and was silent for a moment. He once again turned his head and looked at Janna: "Is Franca home?"
"Why are you asking this?" Janna looked confused. "She probably won't be going back to White Coat Street today. She said she wants to spend a pleasant evening with Gardner Martin."
Huh… Lumian exhaled and turned to the chaotic street.