The Whispering Verses

Chapter 113: The first wish

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Two of the three wishes were difficult, but the remaining one just happened to fit Shade's guess about the "match girl" today. In fact, when thinking of the title of this god who fell in the 1068th year of the Fifth Era, it is hard not to think of a fairy tale.

After thinking for a moment, Shad looked at the owner of the toy store, the young man with the ridiculous hat was staring at him.

"Time is short. To satisfy your story wish today, I will try to tell a fairy tale. As for your wish for growth and strength, I will come back next time."

"Of course, then from now until you leave, they can temporarily understand the language you use."

The saint walked out from behind the counter and clapped his hands, and five high stools appeared in the empty space in front of the counter. The two men sat down, and the three children happily climbed onto the chairs and sat there obediently with their hands on their knees.

This uniformity reminded Shade of a puppet being manipulated. Even if the gods had no ill will towards mortals, mortals still could not have long-term contact with them.

Everyone looked at Xia De with anticipation. Xia De sorted out his thoughts and cleared his throat. He knew what he was going to do:

"Oh, children, I am going to tell you a very old story now. It is impossible to verify when this story happened, but it is absolutely true."

The three children looked at Xia De with shining eyes. Even the most mature-looking girl was attracted by such an opening statement.

"It was a cold winter, and the snowflakes fell from the sky like knives and goose feathers. It was a dimly lit street..."

The saint waved his hand behind him, and the light in the toy store suddenly dimmed. Darkness surrounded the five people sitting together, snowflakes fell from the sky, and under the weak moonlight, the area around them turned into a cold, deserted, dilapidated street.

Xia De looked up at the sky, his eyes slightly narrowed, and there was only a silver moon above his head, with no trace of the yellow moon or the red moon.

He was thinking in his heart, but he did not stop the story. Moreover, seeing the changes in the surrounding environment, he doubted whether the innocent creator's words "no power" were true or not, but the young man smiled at him and let him continue.

"The girl was barefoot wearing a pair of slippers. Her feet were blue and purple from the cold, and there were too many patches on her clothes to count. She wrapped her golden hair with a tattered headscarf, hunched over, and carried a small basket on her shoulder as she walked down the street."

The three children looked around and saw a girl walking slowly in the snow. They all exclaimed "Oh~" at the same time. Shade paused and continued hesitantly:

"She was very tired, very hungry, and very cold. But she had to sell the matches in the basket before her father allowed her to return home. The girl stopped in front of the brightly lit window and looked into the magnificent hall inside the window. It was now... a festival. Inside the window was a busy restaurant. Under the decorated tree, there was a delicious roast chicken on the table."

The shabby streets around the girl suddenly lit up, and the shop windows showed her the lives of the rich. The girl held the basket in her purple hands, and she stopped in front of the window, looking inside with shining eyes.

The children looked surprised, and Xia De suddenly felt a little bit sorry for them.

"She was very cold, and huddled up against the wall to rest. The snow was getting heavier, and the girl took a box of matches from the basket, pulled out a match, and lit it in front of her eyes, trying to keep herself warm. In the firelight, she saw a warm fireplace, but as soon as she stretched her feet over it, the match went out, and she was left with only a burnt matchstick in her hand."

The girl on the street lit a match, looked at the flame, and then the flame went out. This time, the saint did not show the part of the illusion that Shade described. What they saw was just the cold reality.

"She lit another match, and a roast goose jumped out of the plate, with a knife and fork stuck on its back, and walked towards her. But the match went out again, and there were only piles of cold snow in front of her."

The children listened carefully to Shad's story. Only the boy who asked for the "story" looked at him, while the older girls and boys looked at the illusion created by the saint.

"So she struck a match for the third time, and this time she sat under the beautiful tree with gift boxes piled up under it."

The saint suddenly raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"The little girl reached out to the red box closest to her, but the match went out again. So she struck the match for the fourth time. This time, her loving grandma appeared in the flames. She was so gentle and kind. She didn't want her grandma to leave, so she quickly struck the whole bunch of matches."

The children saw the girl huddled in front light a match, and this time, the part of the "illusion" described by Shad also appeared.

But that was not the kind grandmother that Xia De described. What appeared on the snowy street was a tall figure wearing a black cloak and holding a sickle.

According to the cultural customs of this world, this represents death.

Shade's speech slowed down, and he looked at the innocent creator of the old gods in confusion, who shook his head.

Time is running out, so Shade ends this story:

"In the light of the match, grandma held her in her arms, and the two of them flew away in light and joy, flying higher and higher, to a place where there was no cold, hunger, or pain."

The black-robed figure reached out and took the girl's hand.

Xia De looked at this scene and subconsciously slowed down his tone:

"The next day, the sun rose and shone on her tiny body."

A shadow floated out from the girl, holding the hand of the man in black robe, and disappeared together with the illusion of the street.

The warm and bright toy store returned to the five people again, and the children were still immersed in the story. Shade looked at the old god, who clapped his hands:

"It's a good story. Although the ending is not so happy, it is the best story for children."

The boy who asked Shade for a story also looked at him. He hugged his teddy bear and said timidly:

"Sir, this is a really good story. Does it have a name?"

“The Little Match Girl.”

After saying the name of the fairy tale, Shade hesitated and asked a question:

"What is your name, then?"

"Sir, my name is Parker Chad."

Xia De nodded and wrote down the name. The Saint had already returned to the counter and said with a smile:

"Children, what do you understand from this story?"

"Power! You need power to control your own destiny!"

The girl said loudly while sitting on a high stool.

"Grow up! Kids can't do anything!"

said the boy holding the toy knife.

"Stories, sir, stories don't need meaning, stories don't need to preach, stories just need to touch people's hearts."

The youngest boy looked at the Saint, who smiled and shook his head:

"Yes, you are right. Child, you will definitely become an excellent fairy tale writer. This is my blessing to you."