This band of travellers traversed the desert, passing each decrepit city-state.
The once prosperous Ancient Kingdom had long since perished, reduced to ruins and broken walls. A gentle breeze stirred, and thin clouds cast serene shadows, the long-silenced ruins overgrown with weeds, destined to remain silent for the days to co.
They had never seen such vast ruins; over these three thousand years, whether it was prosperity or bloodshed... everything had declined, vanished, like lofty waves disappearing into the water, leaving no trace, and no one could imagine what the Kingdom had looked like three thousand years ago.
This endless expanse of ruins held no spectacular sights, only the distant lant left by ti.
Day by day...
Noen and his companions spent seven days and nights in this ancient Kingdom, sleeping in various ruins. Noen’s feelings shifted from initial excitent to a serene calmness as days and nights alternated.
Every night, they prayed on their ancestors’ land.
Noen and the slaves of faith knelt on the ground, hands clasped, quietly chanting the prayers written by the old Priest.
"Lord,
may I grasp Your hand?
Lead us into the Miracle of life,
allow us to listen to the sacred voices,
save us, do not let us perish.
Lord, I love You."
Casas and Baird were also influenced by their fervor, at tis finding themselves reciting involuntarily.
They slowly approached the direction of the Royal Capital.
Their pace was neither rushed nor delayed, patience filled their hearts as they moved through ruins, lanting the past of the Logos people, everything about this holand was unfamiliar to them, yet it still was their holand.
After entering the Royal Capital.
Noen followed the weed-engulfed main road towards the center, where he saw the towering mountain recorded in history.
"There...
God’s Mountain, right there!"
Everyone lifted their heads together; the bright white snow covered the mountain peak down to its slopes, the ancient altar barely visible. Approaching the mountain, they could see the majestic and sacred stairs leading up.
"Mountain... God’s Mountain,"
they murmured, their eyes slowly moistening,
"The stories are true,
everything is true,
God descended upon the mountain, bringing light to the world, forever and ever."
A strength rooted in faith dominated their hearts as they walked towards the mountain, perceiving the divine radiant light flickering at the summit.
Arriving at the foot of the mountain, they saw a cetery.
Noen had passed by ceteries before, but those had been desolate, blending with ruins, indistinguishable from one another.
But this cetery, although the tombstones were small and the grounds not extensive, was ticulously maintained.
"This seems to be a family cetery."
Baird spoke, his keen eyes catching the inscriptions on the tombstones.
"Is it those... Elves who had once returned?"
Noen whispered.
He walked into the cetery, and outside the Tomb Guardian’s cabin stood a stone monunt.
Casas joined Noen, gazing at the monunt, asking,
"Shall I read it to you, Noen?"
Noen nodded slowly.
"It seems to be a letter."
Casas took a deep breath and began reading the initial inscription:
"Basel...
I don’t know how to address you.
Poet, Angel...
Not until the last mont you were imprisoned,
not until I looked into your eyes did I realize how little I actually knew you."
Casas’s voice was gentle yet calm, the letter engraved on the monunt as if waiting for soone nad Basel.
Between the lines, a subtle sorrow was revealed.
"Basel,
we crossed the desert twice, once to leave, once to return.
When I think of you, I can see you walking alone in the Pattern Garden, I can see Lightning in the prison.
It was then I realized,
how distant you were from us.
Before we even knew, we estranged you, we killed you."
At last,
we let you depart from us.
How arrogant and ignorant the people of Logos were on this Earth.
It wasn’t until you spread your wings that we understood your significance to the people of Logos."
Noen listened to Casas’s narration.
He wore a look of surprise...
The people of Logos had truly executed a Divine Angel.
Then, in a gentle voice, Casas continued to recount the passage on the stone tablet.
The writer said that the people of Logos had executed their kindest part, the kingdom fell into division and turmoil, people killing each other on the Earth, a man destroying himself.
And the writer had left the kingdom, stepping into the wilderness with the Three-eyed Ape People.
"Basel, executing you was the easiest judgnt the people of Logos had ever passed.
At that ti, the people of Logos thought they were simply executing an angel and regretted it, considering it a grave mistake.
But now I know,
The greatest mistake was,
We executed a kind man.
...
Life wandering in the desert was not easy.
The hos of the Three-eyed Ape People had already been destroyed; we, along with them, had no fixed abode on the Earth.
Every day we saw casualties,
It was like God questioning us,
Why did we execute a kind man.
We prayed and repented day and night; finally, God showed His rcy, forgave us, and taught us to settle down in the desert. After Lam’s death, I led the people out of the desert to pioneer the land of Ajia."
Hearing this, Noen incredulously looked at Casas.
From the tone of that letter, he felt like... he knew the identity of the writer.
"After many years, I understood a lot.
My hair beca white, watching life slip away day by day.
Back then, I thought I would die of old age in the land of Ajia.
But one day suddenly, I dreamt of God.
In that dream, God did not speak, just looked at .
Basel,
When I woke up, I knew...
I had to co back."
A breeze blew through the cetery; a faint sadness from the letter reached the young man’s ears.
Noen was listening to the elves’ history of returning ho.
"In this way, we embarked on the return journey.
After enduring nurous hardships on the Path of Death, we returned to this place.
To leave was so easy, to return proved incredibly hard.
Perhaps,
Life is a journey of return.
In executing you, it ant we left God.
Now, we have co back.
Ti has taught us to be kind again."
"I know, I know,
If we do not return,
To pick up our forr kindness,
We shall not return to our holand."
At the end of the letter,
There was trembling, faltering lettering.
"Basel, please forgive ."
"The child of God—Dorias."
This return of Noen and his party today was similar.
Three thousand years ago,
Those elves who left the Ancient Kingdom, those elves who executed the angel, after nurous hardships, understood the true aning of life.
In this return,
They picked up their forr kindness and returned to their long-lost holand.
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