北京青年手机

All that was left of the chaos was a mystical, spectral-green fire. This fire covered the entire city and even spread across the surface of the sea. Despite its wild, untamed appearance, the flames were harmless. They existed almost like phantoms, touching but not scarring the real world, and exuded a gentle warmth when they came into contact with anything.

Amidst all of this, Agatha lowered her eyes to focus on the task at hand—assisting the high priest, who looked visibly shaken. The green flames that enveloped her arm seemed to make him slightly nervous, but that nervousness paled in comparison to the intense mood that had overtaken the entire city.

“What will happen to us…” The high priest’s voice quivered as he spoke, his eyes darting between Agatha and the green flames that covered her. “What comes next for us?”

After considering for a brief moment, Agatha shook her head and replied, “I don’t know.”

The high priest’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You don’t know?!”

“I didn’t ask,” Agatha responded, her voice as serene as a gentle breeze on a summer day. “Given the urgency of the situation, I had very limited options.”

The high priest was flabbergasted and seemed to be on the verge of asking a multitude of questions—questions about the origins of the titanic figure in the sea, the nature of the mystical flames, and why Agatha appeared as she did. However, he found himself speechless, at a complete loss for words.

Agatha paid little attention to the high priest’s reaction. Instead, she slightly tilted her head, noticing the last few delicate, white ashes that gently landed on her shoulder. It felt like a reassuring touch as if someone were patting her on the back for reassurance.

Suddenly, a soft voice whispered in her ear, “I must depart. My journey in this mortal realm has come to an end, and a greater adventure lies ahead for me.”

“Farewell, Bishop Ivan,” Agatha responded softly.

A distant breeze began to blow, making its way through the grand doors of the Silent Cathedral and sweeping across the open square in front of it. That gentle wind lifted the last bit of ash from Agatha’s shoulder, allowing it to scatter and disappear into the air, signaling an end and a beginning all at once.

Situated high on the bell tower behind the church, Shirley found herself a comfortable perch on a jutting edge of the rooftop. Dressed in a black skirt, she dangled her legs freely over the side, swinging them back and forth in a bored fashion. The wind carried her soft words as she murmured, “It’s so quiet now…”

“Seems like everyone is paralyzed with fear,” Nina responded. She was standing on a small platform a few feet behind Shirley, her eyes turned towards the sky. “I was shocked, too.”

“How could anyone not be?” Shirley shuddered as she glanced cautiously at the immense, shadowy figure that hovered over the distant ocean. “I never expected Mr. Duncan to deal with the situation in such a… dramatic fashion. It’s even more intense than what happened in Pland.”

Nina nodded solemnly. “Uncle Duncan explained that the crisis in Frost was fundamentally connected to the mirror city. So, to truly fix the problem, the mirror city had to be entirely eliminated. Simply sealing off passages or disrupting the rituals of cultists would have only been a temporary fix. The ultimate solution was to drag the mirror city into our reality and destroy it. However, because of the mirror city’s massive scale, he needed a ‘fire field’ that was equally as large to get the job done.”

Shirley waved her hand dismissively. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re really into all this fire stuff, huh? I’ll be sure to let Mr. Duncan know.” Then, her expression turned to one of confusion. “But where is Mr. Duncan now? The crisis is over, isn’t it? When is he coming back?”

Nina looked towards the colossal figure looming over the sea. After a thoughtful pause, she said, “Would you like me to go and find out?”

“Absolutely,” Shirley replied eagerly. “And while you’re at it, make sure to tell Mr. Duncan that our homework was eaten by those dark hounds.”

Before Shirley could complete her sentence, Nina transformed into a radiant streak of flame and shot off towards the gigantic shadow that hung ominously over the city and sea.

…

From a viewpoint high above the waters surrounding Frost, Duncan looked down through breaks in the clouds to survey the city and sea below.

The ocean extended towards the horizon like an endless expanse of liquid darkness, interrupted only by the city-state of Frost, which appeared as a radiant disc floating on the water’s surface. It seemed to be basking in its own solitary glow while a faint mist could be discerned at the horizon’s edge, outlining a subtle arc that encapsulated the entire span of human civilization visible from his vantage point.

For Duncan, this was an unparalleled perspective. He had never seen the world from such a dizzying height, and he mused that probably no one else in this world had ever dared to climb so high to gain such an extraordinary view.

Naturally, Duncan knew he couldn’t sustain this lofty position in the sky indefinitely. His energy was finite, and it was already beginning to wane. But before it completely dissipated, he wanted to absorb as much of this celestial view as he could.

Just as he was lost in this contemplation, a tiny, flickering spark shot up from below, darting through the cloud cover and abruptly entering Duncan’s line of sight.

This minuscule flame zigzagged its way through the clouds with the agility of a swallow in mid-flight. As it drew near, Duncan heard Nina’s voice calling out to him. “Uncle Duncan! What are you doing up here?”

“Taking a moment to observe the world,” Duncan replied warmly, allowing the little flame—Nina’s current form—to dance gracefully on his fingertip. “And what brings you to this elevation, young lady?”

“Shirley sent me to find you,” Nina answered cheerily, her fiery form flickering with delight on Duncan’s fingertip. Even though her flame was currently larger than the bell tower they had just left, she looked remarkably small from Duncan’s elevated perspective. “You said you’re observing the world? What’s so captivating about it?”

Duncan chuckled and motioned with his eyes toward the sweeping panorama below. “Take a look for yourself.”

Nina’s tiny flame shifted slightly to get a better view.

“…Wow.”

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Duncan whispered. “No one has ever seen the Boundless Sea and the city-state it cradles from this height. And that fog, far in the distance—it’s so majestic that it still takes my breath away, even from up here.”

Nina considered this for a moment before speaking. “If it were an ordinary human, they might not feel anything special when they stand at the edge of that eternal mist because they wouldn’t be able to see its full extent.”

Duncan was momentarily surprised by Nina’s insight, and then he burst into appreciative laughter.

“You’re absolutely correct,” he admitted. “An ordinary person, standing right at the edge of that expanse of fog, wouldn’t experience the same overwhelming sense of awe because they can’t grasp its full magnitude. From our vantage point, we can see so much more.”

Nina’s flame flickered as if indicating curiosity. “Uncle Duncan, it feels like your words have a deeper meaning. What are you trying to say?”

Duncan didn’t respond immediately to Nina’s question. He simply continued to look out at the vast horizon before them. After a few moments of silence, he asked, “Have you ever wondered what might be on the other side of that fog?”

“The books say that the fog is infinite—that there’s no ‘other side,’ just endless fog,” Nina answered.

“And what do you believe?” Duncan queried, glancing back at his fingertip where Nina’s flame danced.

“I think what’s written in the books is just scholarly speculation,” Nina ventured, her flame glowing brighter as if excited by her own thoughts. “Mr. Morris always said that anything beyond the known world is purely conjecture and that science is about testing those hypotheses. So maybe, just maybe, there’s an entirely different world beyond that fog.”

Duncan smiled at Nina’s curiosity and imagination, pleased to see such a free-thinking spirit. “Ah, the joys of youthful speculation,” he said softly. “It’s a precious thing, indeed.”

Nina paused, her flickering flame seeming to brighten as if hit by a sudden realization. “Ah, Uncle Duncan, are you thinking of venturing into that fog? Considering how high we are and how close we are to the northern border, it almost feels like you could…”

“Unfortunately, it’s not possible,” Duncan replied, gently shaking his head and tempering Nina’s enthusiasm. “The form I’m in has its limitations, both in terms of duration and scope. Ritual methods come with their own sets of constraints. For now, all we can do is observe from this vantage point.”

Nina’s flame dimmed slightly, a sign of her momentary disappointment. After a thoughtful pause, she ventured cautiously, “Well, could I go take a look? I can fly, you know.”

Duncan shook his head again, his tone firm yet kind. “Only for a brief while, you’re well aware of your own limitations. And even then, I wouldn’t recommend it. We don’t know enough about that mysterious fog to risk venturing into it. There’s a fine line between embracing the spirit of adventure and acting recklessly.”

Nina’s flame seemed to slump as if sighing. “So, we’re really confined to just watching from here, huh?”

“The first step of any journey is to look out into the distance,” Duncan said, his eyes crinkling with warmth. He could sense his high-energy form starting to fade; his time in this celestial observation post was nearly up. But before he vanished, he looked at Nina and added, “And our exploration extends far beyond the horizon. Have you ever taken a good look at the structure of our city-state? It’s so perfectly circular, so immaculately organized that it almost seems too ideal to be natural. And then there’s the Boundless Sea beneath us; we have no idea what secrets lie in its depths.”

He continued, “Various factions have their theories. The zealots believe the world is destined for destruction, and they alone hold the power to create a new one. The church insists that only by following the teachings of the four gods can the world continue to exist. Yet despite these strong opinions, the world is filled with mysteries that none of us fully understand—whether it’s the zealots, the church, or scholars from various city-states, everyone’s views are colored by their own biases and limitations.”

As Duncan spoke, his enormous form began to fade, gradually dissolving into the air. The sea below, which had mirrored his presence, slowly returned to its natural state, its waves resuming their timeless dance.

“Alright, Nina, it’s time for us to go back. We have a lot of responsibilities waiting for us,” Duncan said, preparing for their descent.

“Oh! Wait, Uncle Duncan, I almost forgot! Shirley and I had our homework eaten by dark hounds!” Nina blurted out, her flame flickering wildly with urgency.

Duncan chuckled. “Don’t worry. Mr. Morris and I will make sure to assign new homework for the two of you.”

And with that, the towering figure and the tiny flame began their descent, leaving behind a horizon filled with mysteries, questions, and a fog that veiled the unknown.