Chapter 8 six

what the trees say * Tristan.Song Eun is dreaming. He was on the apple tree, looking intently through Victoria.Forrest's window, as she prepares to undress.She took off her coat, revealing the endless underskirt, and Tristan felt the branches begin to crumble under his feet, and then he fell through the air in the moonlight. He fell on the moon. The Moon spoke to him: Please, whispered the Moon, in a voice somewhat like his mother's, protect her.protect my children.They are going to hurt her.I have already done my best.The moon would have told him more, and perhaps had, but the moon was a faint moonlight on the water, far below him.He felt a small spider crawling across his face, and his neck convulsed, so he raised his hand and carefully knocked the spider off his cheek. The morning sun shone into his eyes, and the whole world was gold and green.

you are dreaming.A young woman's voice spoke from above his head.The voice is very gentle, but the accent is weird.He heard the rustle of purple beech leaves overhead. Yes, he said to the man in the tree, I was just dreaming. I also had a dream last night, the voice said, in my dream, I looked up and I could see the whole forest.Something very large moves through the forest.As it got closer and closer, I knew what it was.She stopped suddenly. what is itTristan asked. Everything, she said, was Pan.When I was very young, someone (probably squirrels, they talk a lot, or magpie birds, or small fish) told me that Pan owned the whole forest.Oh, not the owning kind of owning.Not like he'd sell the forest to someone else, or build a wall around it

Or cut down the tree.Tristan helped.There was a silence.He wondered where the girl had gone.Hello?He said, hello? There was another rustling of leaves overhead. You shouldn't say that.she says. Sorry, Tristan said, not quite sure why he was apologizing.But you just told me Pan owns the whole forest Of course, said the voice, it is not difficult to own things.Or, it's not that hard to have it all.You just have to know it's yours and be willing to let it go.Pan owns the forest just like that.In my dream, he came to me.You were also in my dream, leading a sad girl in chains.She was a very, very sad girl.Pan asked me to help you.

I? That made me feel warm, excited and sentimental from the tip of the leaf to the root of the tree.So I woke up and there you were, sleeping with your head on my trunk, snoring like a wiggin pig. Tristan scratched his nose.He no longer looked for the woman sitting among the branches of the purple-leaved beech overhead, but looked at the tree.You are the tree.Tristan put his thoughts into words and said. I have not always been a tree.Between the rustle of purple beech leaves, said the voice.A magician turned me into a tree. Then what were you before?Tristan asked. do you think he likes me

who? Pan.If you were the king of the jungle, unless you liked someone, you wouldn't just give them the job to be as helpful and helpful as possible, would you? Oh Tristan said.Before he could come up with Zhou Yan's answer, the tree had already said: Forest Fairy.I used to be a wood fairy.But I was haunted by a prince, not a good prince, something else.Oh, you'd think a prince, even the bad kind, would know how to behave, wouldn't you? will you? That's what I think.But he didn't understand, so I begged for a little help as I ran away, and boom!Tree.what do you think?

Oh, said Tristan, I don't know what you were like when you were a wood fairy, madam, but you are a magnificent tree. The tree didn't answer right away, but her leaves rustled gracefully.When I was a wood fairy, I was also very cute.She coyly admitted. What kind of help and rescue is it?asked Tristan, and I'm not complaining.I mean, I need all the help and assistance I can get right now.But the assistance that the tree can provide does not seem to be very significant.You can't come with me, or give me food, or bring the stars here, or send us back to Stonewall for my true love.I'm sure if it rains, you'll cover me well, but now, it's not raining

The tree trembled.Why don't you tell me your story so far, said the tree, and let me be the best judge and decide if I can help. Tristan disagreed.He could feel, at the speed of a unicorn, the stars were getting further and further away from him.If there's one thing he doesn't have time for, it's detailing his adventures so far.But then it occurred to him that, until now, his quest for the stars had made progress only with the help of others.So he sat down on the wood-floor, and told Beech all he could think of: about what he had said to Victoria.Forrester's love, pure and sincere; his vow to bring the shooting star back to her is not another shooting star, but the one they saw together on Detis Hill; and his vow to enter the fairyland journey.He told the tree about the little hairy man he met on his travels, and about the little elves who stole his silk hat; the swamp, and about the lion and the unicorn, and how he lost the star.

After he finished his story, there was silence.The copper-colored leaves on the trees trembled, as if in a gentle wind; then more violently, as if a storm were approaching.At last the leaf formed a furious low voice and said: If you lock her and she breaks free from the chain, there is no power on earth or in the sky that can make me help you, not even the great Pan or Queen Silvia herself Beg me to do the same.But you loose her chains, so I will help you. Thank you.Tristan said. I'm going to tell you three true things.Two of them I will tell you now, and the last one will wait until you need it most.You must judge for yourself when you need to listen.

First of all, the current situation of the stars is very dangerous.What happens in the woods is quickly communicated to the farthest borders, the trees tell the wind, and the wind passes the news on to the next tree it blows through.There are forces that want to hurt her more than hurt.You must find her and protect her. Next, there is a road through the forest, not far from the fir tree (I can tell you about the fir tree that would make a stone blush), and in a few minutes a carriage will pass this road.Hurry before you miss out. And the third thing, put your hand out. Tristan held out his hands.A copper-colored leaf slowly falls from a height, spins and glides in the air, and tumbles down.The leaves landed neatly on the heart of his right hand.

Here, said the tree, put it away.Listen to what it says when you need it most.Now the tree said to him: The carriage is almost here.run!run! Tristan grabbed the duffel bag and ran, shoving leaves into the pockets of his jacket as he went.He could hear the hooves of animals coming closer and closer across the glade.He knew he couldn't catch up, and felt self-defeating.But he ran faster and faster, until he heard his heart pounding in his chest and ears, and the hiss of air being sucked into his lungs.He dashed through the bracken at a gallop, and was just on the side of the road as the wagon passed.

It was a black carriage, drawn by four horses as black as night, and driven by a pale fellow in long black robes.The carriage was still twenty paces away from Tristan.He stood there gasping for breath, trying to scream, but his throat was dry and his breathing was abnormal, so he could only speak in a dry, hoarse whisper.He tried to yell, but couldn't stop breathing. The carriage passed by him without slowing down. Tristan sat on the ground to catch his breath.Then, thinking of the stars, he got up and walked as fast as he could along the forest path.After walking for less than ten minutes, he found the black carriage.A bough of oak, as thick as some trees, fell on the road, before the horses and drivers.The driver, who was also the only passenger in the carriage, was struggling to carry the branch to the side of the road. Something that deserves death.The driver said he was wearing black robes, and Tristan estimated he was in his late fifties.No wind, no torrential rain.It just fell off.Scared the horses.His voice was low and booming. Tristan and the driver unhooked the horses and harnessed them to the oak branches.Then two men pushing behind and four horses pulling in front finally dragged the branch to the side of the road.Tristan silently thanked the oak for its fallen branches, and also the beech, and Pan the Lord of the Forest, and asked the driver if he could take him through the forest. I don't take passengers.The driver said, rubbing his bearded cheeks. Of course, said Tristan, but you'd still be stuck here without me.It must be God's will for you to meet me, just like God's will for me to meet you.I won't tell you to go off the beaten track, but you might later be thankful to have another pair of hands at your side. The driver of the carriage looked Tristan from head to toe.He reached into the velvet pouch at his waist and pulled out a handful of square pieces of red granite. Pick a slice.he said to Tristan. Tristan picked up a slab of stone and turned the carved mark up toward the man.Well, the driver only said such a word, and I picked another one.Tristan chose.Another slice.The man rubbed his cheek again.Well, you can come with me, he said, and while there would be danger, the occult symbols seemed certain.But then there may be more fallen branches to move.If you want, you can sit in the front seat with me next to the driver's seat. Tristan climbed into the driver's seat and noticed something odd.On his first glance into the carriage he thought he saw five pale gentlemen, all in gray, gazing sadly out at him.But the next time he looked inside, there was no one there. Under a canopy of green and gold made of leaves, the wagon thumped along the grassy lane.Tristan was worried about the stars.He thought that although Xing Xing's temper was a bit bad, there was a reason for it after all.He hoped that the stars would stay out of trouble until he caught up. ★ Once upon a time, it was said that this gray-black mountain range running from north to south like a spine through the fairyland was originally a giant, so huge and heavy.One day, after exhausting all the strength to move and survive, he stretched out on the plain, sleeping deeply, with centuries between each heartbeat.If this kind of thing really happened, it was a long time ago, and it was the first thing in the world.At that time the world was full of stone and fire, water and wind.If it is not true, there are not many people still alive who can stop the rumors.Nevertheless, whether it is true or not, the four great mountains of the region are called Head, Shoulders, Belly, and Knee, while the foothills to the south are called Foothills.There are several climbing cliffs that can cross these mountains, one is between the head and shoulders, which should be the shoulder, and the other is close to the south of the belly mountain. Here are all primitive mountain forests, inhabiting uncivilized wild animals.Gnomes with dark blue-gray skin, shaggy wildlings, stray forest wildlings, goats, mine patrons, hermits, outlaws and the occasional hilltop witch.It's not a really tall mountain range in Faerie (such as Mount Huon, where Stormcastle sits atop Mount Huon).But for the lonely traveler, it is a mountainous area that is difficult to cross. The Magic Queen walked up the mountain path south of Belly Mountain a few days ago, and is now waiting at the entrance of the climbing cliff.Her goats are tied to thorny bushes, necessitating a meal of brambles.She sat beside the untied buggy, sharpening her knife with a whetstone. They were ancient knives; the hilts were of bone, and the blades were of thinner volcanic glass, black as jet, with veins of white snowflakes forever frozen in the stone.There are two knives: a smaller, short-bladed meat cleaver, heavy and hard, good for cutting through the ribcage, cutting meat into bone-in chunks or slicing, and a long-bladed short sword , suitable for enucleating the heart.When these two knives are so sharp that she can draw any one across your throat, and you only feel that the spring of warm blood is quietly spreading when you touch the thinnest hair, the Queen of Magic put away the knives, Start the preparations. She walked up to the goats and whispered a magic word in each of their ears. Where the two goats stood stood a man with a white beard and a childish young woman with glassy eyes.Both were silent. The witch bent down beside the buggy and whispered a few words.The buggy was still, and the Witch stamped on the rocks. I'm old.she said to the two servants.They didn't answer, didn't even seem to understand what she meant.Inanimate things have always been more difficult to change than living things.Their souls are older and dumber, and harder to persuade.If I could regain my true youth Alas, at the beginning of the world, I could turn mountains into seas and clouds into palaces.I can populate cities with pebbles from the sand.if i could regain my youth She sighed, and held up her hand: a blue flame flickered between her fingers for a moment, then she dropped her hand, bent down to touch the buggy, and the flame was gone. She straightened up.There were streaks of gray in her shiny black hair now, and she had dark bags under her eyes; but the buggy was gone, and she was standing in front of an inn on the edge of the cliff. There was thunder quietly in the distance, and lightning flashed in the distance. The hotel sign shook and creaked in the wind.A buggy was drawn on it. You two, said the Witch, come in.She rode over here, and she will definitely pass this climbing cliff.Now I just have to be sure she'll come in.You she said to the man with the white beard on his chin, called Billy, the owner of the hotel.I'm your wife, and the girl she's pointing at with glazed eyes, who used to be Miss Berry, our daughter, and the cook. Another thunderclap echoed down from the top of the mountain, louder than before. It is going to rain, said the Witch, and let us light a fire. ★ Tristan could feel the stars ahead, moving steadily forward, as if they were getting closer to her. To his relief, the big black carriage followed the star's path.Once, when there was a fork in the road, Tristan was worried that they would take the wrong one.If it does go wrong, he's ready to get out of the car and travel on his own. His companion reined in the horse, climbed out of the driver's seat with difficulty, and took out the mysterious symbol.After he finished his reference, he climbed back into the carriage and drove onto the fork on the left. Maybe I'm being rude to ask, Tristan said, can I ask what you're looking for? my fate.After a short silence, the man replied, My dominion.And you? I offended a young lady by my conduct, Tristan said, and I hope to make amends.He said he knew it was true. The driver snorted. The thick shade of the forest soon became thinner and thinner.There were fewer and fewer trees, and Tristan gasped as he looked up at the mountains in front of him.This mountain is really amazing!He said. When you are older, said his companion, do come and visit my castle, on the highest precipice of Mount Huon.That is the high mountain, from where we can overlook the surrounding mountains.These mountains he gestured towards the highest point of the belly mountain in front of them, which was nothing more than a small hill. Truth be told, Tristan said, I wish I could spend the rest of my life as a shepherd in Stonewall, because I've got far more stimulation now than anyone could actually need, candles, trees, Young ladies and unicorns and more.But I mentally accept your invitation and thank you.If you ever come to Stonewall, you must come to my house, and I'll give you woolen sweaters and feta cheese, and as much lamb stew as you want. You are so sweet.said the driver.The mountain road is easier to walk now, and the road surface is paved with crushed gravel and stones of different sizes.He crackled his whip and urged the four black stallions to a little faster.Say, have you ever seen a unicorn? Tristan was on the verge of telling his companions all about his encounter with the unicorn, but on second thought he simply said: It is the noblest of beasts. A unicorn is a creature of the moon, said the driver, but I've never seen one.They are said to serve the moon and do her bidding.We should be on the mountain tomorrow evening.I'll stop and rest tonight as the sun goes down.You can sleep in the coach if you want; I'll sleep by the fire myself.The tone of his voice didn't change, but a sudden and frightening conviction told Tristan what the man was afraid of from the bottom of his soul. That night, lightning appeared from time to time on the top of the mountain.Tristan slept on the leather chair of the carriage with a sack of oats on his head; he dreamed of ghosts and the moon and dots of stars. It rained suddenly at dawn, as if the sky had turned into water.Low gray clouds hid the peaks.In the fierce rain, Tristan and the driver tied the horses to the carriage and set off.Now it's all uphill, and the horses can't run fast, so they can only walk. You can go inside, the man said, there's no need to get both of us drowned.They had put on the oilskin coveralls they had found under the driver's seat. Except for the first time I jumped into the river, Tristan said, I'm afraid it won't be any wetter than it is now.I want to stay here.Two pairs of eyes and two hands are less laborious for us. His companion snorted, wiped the rain from his eyelids and lips with a clammy hand, and said: You're a fool, lad.But I accept it.He shifted the reins to his left hand and held out his right hand.I'm Bermus.Lord Bermuth. Tristan.Tristan.Song En, he said.For some reason, he felt that the man had a right to know his real name. They shook hands.It was raining harder and harder.The horses walked at the slowest speed on the path that turned into a river, and the torrential rain was like the thickest fog, completely obscuring the sight. One said Lord Bermuth.The wind snatched his words from his lips, and now he had to shout in the rain for Tristan to hear.He was tall and looked a bit like me, but thinner and more like a crow.His eyes looked innocent and dull, but in fact there was death hidden.His name was Youngmus, and he was our father's seventh son.If you see him, run and hide.He was coming after me.But if you get in his way, he won't hesitate to kill you, or turn you into a tool to kill me. A gust of wind poured a lot of rain down Tristan's neck. It sounds like he is the most dangerous person.Tristan said. He will be the most dangerous man you have ever seen. Tristan stared ahead in silence through the rain and darkness.The path was getting harder to see.Bomus spoke again, and said: If you ask me, this storm is unnatural. unnatural? Or greater than nature.Supernatural, you could say the same.I hope to find a hotel along the way.Horses need rest, and I want a dry bed and a warm fire.And have a good meal. Tristan agreed aloud.They sat together, getting wet.Tristan thought of stars and unicorns.She's probably wet and cold right now.He was worried about Xingxing's broken leg, thinking that she must be very uncomfortable after riding for so long.It's all his fault.He felt very uncomfortable. They stopped to feed the horses wet oats, and he said to Lord Bermuth: "I am the unluckiest man who ever lived." You're young and in love, says Bermus, and every young person in your situation is the unluckiest person ever to be. Tristan couldn't figure out how Lord Bermuth guessed Victoria.A man like Forrester.He pictured himself back in Stonewall, recounting his adventures to her in front of the glowing drawing-room fire; but for some reason his stories all sounded a little flat. The sky had been overcast and gloomy that day, and now the sky was almost dark.There was still an uphill road ahead of them.The rain became slightly weaker, and then it doubled and became heavier than before. Is there a light over there?Tristan asked. I don't see anything.Maybe it was a mirage, or something, said Bermus.Then they turned a corner and he said: "I was wrong.Yes there is a light.Good eyesight, lad.But there are a lot of bad things in this area of ​​the mountains.We can only hope they are friendly people. The horse galloped forward, and now they could see where they were going.A flash of lightning reflected the steep walls on either side of them. How lucky we are!Bomus' voice rumbled like thunder, it's a hotel!