Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun was teetering.

There once was a blonde boy in his memory who was dazzling as the sun. So the young man under the albizia tree thought, as the scorching golden light pierced his eyes. He was only allowed to see the vague outline of an emerald green countryside behind his glasses' curves, and a dark green forest that was dotted with tender white daisies, sky blue cornflowers, and some yellow flowers that he failed to name.

Deeply fascinated, he stared at the yellow flowers in the green grass as his thoughts traced this newly found thread of evidence: those flowers were identical to the flower crown on the figure's head in the photo he now holds. Ever since that blond youth disappeared in the fire, his mind has been shrouded by a never-ending daydream with no escapes. Before his very own eyes, every blade of grass and every tree seemed to come to life, tapping on his head. Everything alive was guiding him further and further towards a fated destination on this road, until he couldn't see the starting point when glancing back.

Any of his words failed to describe this feeling. Ever since he picked up the photo among the burning ruins, the person in the picture has been hanging above the stream of the Alastor’s consciousness like the never-setting sun in the draught of midsummer, yet gurgling and drifting like petals floating in the endless water.

A pink flower fell from the treetops, caressing the face in the photo with its velvety petals. The young man lifted his head and saw two robins above him. Their calls weren’t pleasant to his ears and wandering mind. A sudden breeze blew, and the flowers danced amidst waves of rustling sounds.

As if hypnotised once again, he returned his sight to the photo and the motionless person in it. He was wearing a blue robe, perhaps according to some traditions, ribbons and vibrantly shining flowers decorating his hair. On his face, the fallen flowers from just then lay quietly. The pink tone was a living reminder of the blond youth’s cheek in Alastor's memory. When he laughed at his old-fashioned jokes to the point where tears would appear in the corners of his eyes, the blush on his face was as vivid as the petals.

Subconsciously, the young man slid his fingers up and down the photo’s fragile edge, scorched by the once fiery heat; only a void outlined surrounded by dark edges remained at the place of the figure’s frozen face.

Another gust of wind sent the dainty flower to the ground. Following its airy dance, his gaze travels through the hole, finally resting on the surrounding fields of fragrant grass and the unchanging blue sky.

Perhaps it was the almost blinding sunlight that made him this idle. Carefully, as gently as guarding a nestling, he returned the photo to his left chest pocket as he reminded himself of continuing his journey. With one swift movement, he opened the door of the car next to him and started the old engine; it was the cheapest price at which he rented this car. Now, the exhaust pipe and its occasional emission of thick smoke somehow became the only trace of civilization on this remote road.

Alastor drove the car half-mindedly, sparing some thoughts on the scenery before him. There were no single cars on this straight road ahead. Curiously, the cement road was built on top of the surrounding fragrant grass, breaking the countryside’s natural harmony. This road seemed to have never been used. Maybe it had been waiting here ever since it was completed many years ago, just for someone to walk along the trail of yellow wildflowers and into the deep forest.

Star-like wildflowers passed through his vision, and he once again thought of the person in the photo. The more he thought, the hotter the photo on his chest seemed to become, scorching his flesh.

He thought of the ruins full of flames and thick smoke, and any remaining items were scattered around them. At that moment, he could only think of Hell, and if it truly existed, it must be like this.

That day, a fire broke out in his classmate’s apartment, the young man with blonde hair. He stood in front of the ruins of the apartment as the bright red fire trucks were putting out the raging fire. He didn’t cry, but felt that a flame took the opportunity to drill into his body, igniting his once dry, straw-like emotions. When the fire was put out, there remained only sad black smoke in his hollow body. He didn’t enjoy experiencing this unknown feeling.

A few days later, the police investigation still hadn’t made any progress. They neither found the cause of the fire nor the body of his classmate. He flew away like a little bird, disappearing in the starry sky of that night.

The school sent an email to mourn his passing, and many students who knew him expressed their regret. Yet no one shed tears for his death, gradually forgetting him.
The strange thing is that they didn’t simply forget him, but it was as if the traces of his existence were erased. Alastor tried hard to fight that feeling. He was more enthusiastic than anyone in the world to imprint that shadow into his mind like an iron brand, no matter where he went.

He was like a spider, trapped in the golden resin of memory and slowly suffocating in amber. Once he woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, he realized that he could no longer remember the blond student's face. Instead, he became just a glowing, vague concept. The thought almost drove him manic, and he tried every way to make himself remember, but nothing worked.

The car drove into a forest, where the road became much narrower, a sure sign that he wasn’t far from his destination.

Yet the blonde youth left a feather for his friend when he flew away. Just two days before he arrived at this strange land, Alastor found an incomplete photo in the mailbox. Although his mind had already forgotten his classmate's appearance, he still recognized him at a glance.

On the back of the photo, a line of small words was written in black ink - June 24, 2023, taken in Wicker Town.

Just as he thought of this, he passed the yellow sign above his head - Willow Town is ahead of you.

He took advantage of the first year’s summer vacation to track down the address on the back of the photo. In his imagination, that place was the most likely place to be the hometown of the missing person.

They talked about the topic of hometown once, and he still remembered the melancholy expression on his friend’s face at that time, and his trembling lips that were about to speak but stopped, like leaves in the wind. "I don't want to go back. Still, I know that I must do so one day. Just like fallen leaves will return to their roots one day, flying birds of young wings will also die, and fall into the soil, becoming one with nature once again..." The phrase broke off as he looked at the blue sky.

Alastor never asked about his hometown again. Nevertheless, his intuition told him that "Wicker Town" must have some secrets that he didn't know.

He had been driving for a long time, and the road was getting narrower and bumpier. He couldn't count how many turns he had made. He was surprised by the remoteness of this place. Picking up the mobile phone on the co-pilot seat, he soon found out that there was no signal. Even though he wasn’t a person who relied on modern technology, he was a little panicked nonetheless to be cut off from the outside world so suddenly.

He came to a halt at an open space where the open grassland seemed to appear out of thin air amidst the forest of silver birch and oak trees. It was as if some unknown existence had uprooted those trees with its palm.

The blinding sun was now hanging high above the top of the forest, shaking, as if it were about to fall. In the beam of light, Alastor saw several small houses painted white from which chimney curling smoke came out before disappearing in the light. Some farmland was scattered between the houses, and the whole pastoral scene was like an ethereal painting.

He drove the car slowly into the village. Some middle-aged and elderly people standing at the entrance of the town looked at him with an empty expression, as if his arrival was fated and they had come to greet him. Several children poked their heads out of the white houses’ windows, and some brave ones even ran up to the car like hares.

Alastor observed those people vigilantly. Their clothes were all white, with different patterns mimicking flowers and plants embroidered on the collars and cuffs. The sun shone through the fibers of their clothes, making them seem to have walked out of the daylight. The small houses looked very primitive. Together with the farmlands, they encircled a huge, sapphire-like lake in the middle of the open space. The water surface was sparkling under the light, and its depth simply couldn’t be guessed.

Alastor lowered the window and looked at an old man standing at the front of the crowd. How strange was the way his eyes flashed in the light, like a salmon. "Good day, Sir." He greeted, "I hope I haven't disturbed your peaceful rural life. Is this Wicker Town, if I’m not mistaken?" He smiled out of courtesy, but his eyes remained solemn.

The old man blinked and grinned, revealing a few missing teeth. "May I ask what brings you to this remote place of ours?"

"No offense, Sir. I'm just here to find my classmate who disappeared a few days ago." With that, he got out of the car. The curious children around the car dispersed, giggling like elves.

He took out the photo from his chest pocket and handed it to the old man, "The person in the photo is who I want to see. I found the address leading here on the back of the photo. Have you seen him?"

"His name is Helel. Helel Morningstar," he quickly added on.

The old man shook his head and handed the photo to his companion with long hair beside him, passing the photo around the crowd.

"But there’s no face here."

"It was burned by fire, but I think there aren’t many young people in such a small village who had the chance for education in universities. Have you seen him?"

The old man looked up at him with an almost fish-like cunning in his eyes. "We’ve indeed seen the person in this picture. But he has never been to 'university'."

"He isn’t named Helel Morningstar, no..." The old man with long hair beside him answered hoarsely.

The young man held his breath unconsciously, "······What does this mean?"

"We do have a 'Morningstar' here." The old man returned the photo to him, who took the photo back eagerly. "It must be him in this photo, I could swear."

Alastor didn't hesitate for even one second; the photo on his chest pocket was burning his heart again. "Where is he? Take me to him."

The old man observed him with emotionless eyes. At last, he pointed to the distance of the lake, "The children shall take you there."

As soon as the old man finished speaking, a little girl in a white dress embroidered with pink flowers approached the crowd. She looked at the outsider curiously, before avoiding his gaze and running away like a swift-footed hare.

"Follow me!" she shouted happily.

The young man nodded to the villagers and then trotted to catch up with the child.

Silently, the villagers' eyes followed his departure like sunflowers.

They traveled on the gravel road between villages. Alastor and the girl ran past the pharmacy, grocery store, and farm tool store, passing by donkey carts loaded with goods and the blooming pansies and anemones that danced in the wind as he ran by. From a distance, the villagers watched their game of chase.

He looked back and saw that those men in white standing beside his car had already scattered like doves. They picked up hoes and rakes, mended fishing nets, and lived like an ancient civilization that had never been disturbed by the secular world.

His thirst for knowledge was burning. With each step, he became more and more curious about Helel’s hometown. Suddenly, the little girl turned around a corner and ran into a hotel.

Following her, he stopped and looked up at the hanging green sign, trying to decipher the words written on it, but the language in which it was written was utterly unknown to him. On it, there was the drawing of the golden sun with a human face and blue pupils in the middle of its semicircular eyes.

He accidentally stared at the sign for too long. The sunlight stung his eyes, forcing him to lower his head so that the senses he lost while running gradually returned to him. The next he knew, the fragrance of flowers already invaded his mind to the point where he felt that his vision and hearing were blurring.

Across the lake, he saw a triangular yellow building in the meadow. Despite this strange, geometrical shape being located unnaturally, he couldn't help but stare at it. In his drowsiness, he heard the creaking sound of the wooden door being pushed open, and then came a voice that he thought he had almost forgotten.

"Sir? Sir?" The voice was as clear as the gurgling of water. To Alastor, it was as if he was suddenly woken up from a long dream. Eagerly, he turned his head to meet the root of this voice.

The person was dressed in a blue robe, reminiscent of the color of morning dew and lake water. On the fabric, some unnamed, yet familiar yellow flowers and daisies adorned the hem. A light yellow shawl wrapped around his neck, in the same tone as the triangular building in the distance.

A flower wreath of blue pansies, daisies, and branches surrounding a freshly-cut sunflower crowned his head, covering half of his face.

"Charlie said you came here just to see me?" he remarked.

The early summer wind toyed with the branches on his feather-like golden hair. From beneath, a pair of familiar golden eyes met his gaze. However, gazing upon them was as strange as staring deep into the stars of the morning light on a sleepless night. He smiled, and the blush on his face was just like Helel's in Alastor’s memory.

"Who are you?" Alastor asked.

The blond figure took a step forward, approaching the outsider; the bells on the white gauze wrapped around his bare ankles chimed melodiously. He held out one hand to him.

"My name is Lucifel," he said, "Lucifel Morningstar."

Chapter Text

The young man stood there motionlessly, letting the wind ruffle up his hair. The world around them grew so quiet that only the sounds of the breeze and his heartbeat could be heard.

He seemed to have seen the person in front of him. The blush on his face and the blond hair were the same as what he had seen in countless dreams.

He rushed forward and grabbed Lucifel's wrist, causing the beads on the latter’s neck to clash. Lucifel didn’t struggle, but just looked back at him in utter confusion; his eyes were those of an innocent hare.

"Helel? Is it really you?" The moment the question broke out of him, Alastor felt something was wrong. The person in front of him may look just like Helel, but somewhere in the depths of his eyes, his true nature was hidden by something.

Lucifel frowned slightly in pain, "Do you know Helel? Sir, are you okay?"

Alastor felt he must be insane. His mind felt as if moss and vines had grown all over his cognition, and dirt had quietly polluted the river of his consciousness. The more he looked at Lucifel's face, the more he felt that he wasn’t Helel. Yet at the same time, a piece of lingering clue like a firefly on midsummer nights made him believe that the person in front of him must be the missing blond boy.

"Helel…How could you leave without saying anything?"

The golden eyes looked at him somewhat resentfully, and he lowered his head to look at the outsider’s hand gripping his wrist tightly, "Whoever you think I am, I’m not. My name is Lucifel."

With one blink, the firefly disappeared.

The little girl named Charlie flicked her gaze between them, worriedly. He calmed down, and his hand lost its grip, as if being instantly robbed of its strength. Lucifel rubbed his wrist discontentedly and lifted his head to meet the lost stranger’s wandering eyes.

Alastor knew that he was too impulsive just now; how could he rush to make any conclusion? "······My apology."

Lucifel shook his head, and the blue feathers clipped on his ear swayed harmoniously with his movements. As he retreated his hand, he glanced at the stranger who had just offended him so rudely with eyes as deep and shining as the lake.

"I think I owe you an explanation. It's like this: I'm looking for someone who looks…just like you, and the old people I met also said you must be him -" He was still dizzy from the shocking, yet amazing similarity.

"Helel?" Lucifel asked. For a moment, when the warm sunlight sprinkled on his face, he was almost indistinguishable from the distant figure in the photo. "Is that the person you were searching for?"

Alastor nodded. "Have you heard of him?"

Lucifel seemed not to hear him and followed his own trail of thoughts, "What's your name, sir?"

"My name isn’t relevant for my question, is it?"

"It shall be so that you may fit in here with us. Look at you, you are just like a fawn that has been separated from its mother, but has suddenly returned to the tribe by miracle..." Lucifel smiled as brightly as a sunflower, "Here, the value of a name is as light as a feather, and we don't like to distinguish each other. But still -" he paused, "I can't always call you sir, right?"

The young man from the outside world had noticed the uniqueness of this town from the beginning. The villagers here seemed to enjoy a unique way of living, one that was closer to nature yet isolated from the rest of the world, but also led to a simple life. As an anthropology student, he had never heard of such traditions. The seed for his innate curiosity was planted, and it now grew wildly.

"Alastor. That's my name." He said, "There's nothing special about this name. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you."

"Alastor..." Lucifel’s smile grew, as if he had heard some old and unexpectedly funny pun, "Alastor."

The young man felt a little embarrassed for having his name called out like that. Anxiously, he wanted to continue asking about Helel's whereabouts. "So, do you know Helel?" He took out the treasured photo from his chest pocket and handed it to Lucifel.

Lucifel took the photo and looked at it carefully, but he didn't show any surprise. On the contrary, he observed it like a very ordinary clover flower; no expressions betrayed his true thoughts. He held up the photo to the light and looked at Alastor through the burnt hole in it.

"The person in this photo must be me. Yet I'm not Helel. My name is Lucifel." He said, "I'm afraid you've come here in vain. It seems you won't be able to see Helel for the time being."

"What does this mean?" Alastor's heart dropped heavily, causing his straight back to bend down, bringing him closer to the other pair of mysterious golden eyes, allowing him to glimpse into the other's sincere heart, "You mean... he's dead?"

Lucifel reciprocated his motion and leaned close to Alastor. Once again, a delightful floral scent wrapped around Alastor, occupying all of his senses. His head was as dizzy as if it had been overwhelmed by the heat waves.

"Death? Tell me, what is that?"

His voice was as gentle as a stream slowly flowing into the lake, blending into the canorous birdcalls, the sound of the wind, and the splashes of the watermill in the distance.

"But you see, Alastor, we don't have the concept of death here." Lucifel called out his name so naturally, "When a bird no longer opens its mouth to sing, a hare no longer jumps, or a person no longer opens his eyes to meet the world, they just return to where they belonged so long ago - their souls shall return to trees, fire, water, animals, and rejoin the cycle of freedom."

Upon hearing this, Alastor believed that this town must be under the rule of its own religion. Is this a branch of nature worship? Was the theory of reincarnation a part of it? His thoughts were in a mess, and his mind couldn't grasp such a complex subject for the time being.

"So," his voice hoarse from temporary silence, "... Can Helel’s eyes open again?"

Lucifel stood on tiptoe, and his nose tip touched Alastor's lightly, as lightly as the movement produced by the iridescent wings of a dragonfly skimming across the lake, "I know Helel very well, my eyes seem to see everything he does - Can't you feel it? He's right here with us."

A cool breeze blew into the collar of Alastor's shirt. In front of him was only Helel’s, no, Lucifel's sparkling eyes. The canary on the sun-painted sign flew away, its clear and melodious chirping gradually distancing.

"Look, Helel flew away!" Charlie chuckled.

Alastor slowly raised his head. What kept him here was not only Helel's whereabouts, but also, at the same time, this town, which was utterly contrary to any social common sense, must be hiding some incredible secrets to be revealed.

"If that's the case, I'm willing to go through no matter what if only just to find him," he said with rare sincerity in his voice, "Will you take me to see him then, Lucifel?"

Lucifel didn't answer immediately, but bent down to pat Charlie’s head. It was after some time of careful contemplation that he answered Alastor: "This matter is more complicated than you could ever envision, dear Alastor."

"But I want to know his whereabouts anyway. After finding him, I will leave here and never disturb your life." He swore, "If it’s your choice to stay away from any civilizations, then I have no right to interfere. But I can't forget what Helel said to me. I need to see for myself if he has indeed changed his mind. In your words," he smiled a little, "like an animal that hibernates in winter, how can it learn about spring’s arrival without breaking the frozen soil above its head first?"

Lucifel met his gaze; his lips were smiling, but his eyes were filled with soft sadness like the spring rain.

"I promise I’ll take you to him." He finally answered.

"Thank you, Lucifel." Now, Alastor was more determined than ever to dig up the soil and uproot the plant of truth.

Lucifel squatted down and said to the child standing by his side, "Charlie, run along and tell the elders that the outsider is going to stay here overnight. Ask them to find someone to move Alastor's luggage into the empty room upstairs in the tavern." He turned his head and said, "Is everything alright with you?"

"... Do I need to stay here for so long?"

"I told you, Alastor. It takes time for seeds to break the ground. One would have to wake up the body from the deep slumber first." Lucifel said, patting Charlie's shoulder. The little girl, obviously overjoyed for being entrusted with such an important task, skipped away.

"Now follow me. I have to guide you around Wicker Town first." He announced, "If you want to see him, this is the only way."

Although he was still very confused, he chose to follow Lucifel's bright yellow scarf. Walking behind him, he noticed a long strand of golden hair on the other’s head that flowed down his shoulder like a gleaming waterfall.

They walked onto the path encircled by the small houses. The silence was only occasionally interrupted by the crisp sounds of bells on Lucifel’s ankle and bare feet. Despite being surrounded by such a scene of natural beauty, Alastor’s heart couldn’t find any peace.

The people they met on the road were all clad in pure white robes, who all smiled and greeted Lucifel upon seeing them. They looked at Alastor behind him with a bit of initial surprise, but finally decided to wave at him politely.

"Have the villagers never seen outsiders?"

"Most people have never been to the world outside the boundary, including me." Lucifel answered most naturally, "People rarely see outsiders. But Charlie seems to like you very much."

Alastor lowered his head, only to see the petals and leaves swaying in the flower crown on Lucifel's head.

"Have you been here since you were born? You look about the same age as Helel."

"I shall be full age when the morning star appears thrice in the sky." Alastor couldn’t see his expression from where he was standing.

"In other words, It’s your birthday in three days? What a coincidence." Alastor listened carefully to the phrases Lucifel used. He couldn't imagine that this boy of his age had never been exposed to anything outside the realm of this forest. But he looked so content, happy even.

The people in Wicker Town appeared to be occupied with different tasks, all carrying crops and flowers and running around the town.

"It's not so noisy here on normal days, but since the festival is approaching, everyone is busy."

"Is it a traditional festival of yours?"

Lucifel turned his head sharply, his eyes full of curiosity and amazement. "You don't know about the Midsummer celebration?"

"The outsiders - don't celebrate this festival." Alastor felt relieved when he saw Lucifel's interest in learning about the outside, "But I'm an anthropology student, which is the study of cultures -" He quickly explained upon greeted by Lucifel's expression of innocent ignorance, " Of course, I will try my best to understand your customs and beliefs."

"I'm just going to take you to see the place where we worship our god." As soon as he spoke of his god, Lucifel’s smile bloomed completely, full of happiness and longing, "It's beautiful there, come on."

How tragic to see Lucifel, the most beautiful canary in the cage, being deprived of vision of the outside world. Nevertheless, Alastor himself could revive his blinded eye, placing black agate beads into his once-empty frame.

He took two quick steps to catch up with Lucifel. Seeing him approaching, Lucifel turned his face to him, and continued, "Every year on the eve in the middle of summer, everyone in the village will light a bonfire, sing, dance, and prepare the most beautiful flowers and the sweetest wine for offering. Oh, that’s the most lively time of the year!"

"Is this celebration to worship your god?" Alastor asked.

"Of course, but being the incarnation of the sun, the moon, the morning star - and everything, Lord God wouldn’t only demand sacrifices from us humans."

"What will He give you then?"

"Good harvest for the whole year, of course." Lucifel's pace was as brisk as a bird dancing on a branch.

Alastor's curiosity was instantly ignited and the fire spread through the land of his mind, "Who is your god then?"

"Hush..." Lucifel suddenly stopped and covered Alastor's lips with his hands, "Our god … is everywhere. Wherever nature can reach, He can hear your whispers."

His hands were soft, as if he had never done any manual labor before. As quickly as they touched, they left Alastor's lips, and Lucifel ran away with a bright smile.

"Come on!" He ran up a slight slope covered with grass and fragrant daisies. "The morning star will watch over us!"

Alastor was about to follow the golden figure when he caught a glimpse of a fruit field in his peripheral vision. There were several apple trees planted in the orchard, and the summer sun shone through their eerily sparse leaves. Alastor paused in mid-step to take a careful look under the trees, where he saw piles of sick apples in the soil. They had already lost their once brilliant color and rotted, returning to earth.

"Alastor, now come quickly!" Lucifel's voice came from the other side of the hillside. The lake surged, the trees danced, and all around him, the bright flowers and plants exuded a most alluring fragrance. Under the warm rays of the sun, everything living seemed to be in harmony. Alastor looked away from the trees and followed the unknown, yet familiar blond boy, towards the lake and into the unknown depths of the forest.

Chapter Text

If all the flowers in nature were the paints on God's color palette, then He must have accidentally spilled them during the creation of this grassland of His. As far as eyes can reach, vibrant flowers sway on the fluffy green grass, growing wildly as nature intended.

Such harmony is interrupted by the strange and striking yellow triangular building in the distance. As they approached it, Lucifel slowed his pace, and the tinkling sound of his necklace gradually disappeared in the wind. He turned around and waited for Alastor to catch up. From where Alastor was standing, it was as if Lucifel was standing in the center of the triangle.

"What is that?" Taking this as a good chance, Alastor pointed at the building behind Lucifel and asked.

"That's where we worship the Lord God. Before the arrival of Midsummer Day, only our high priest is allowed to enter. No one knows what things are inside. Whatever there may be, I want to see them with my own eyes."

"What is your ceremony like?"

"They were almost the same in previous years, just dancing around the Maypole, drowning animals and pouring wine in the lake, things like these," Lucifel said as he approached Alastor, "But this year will be different. How wonderful fate is! The tradition that happens only once every ninety years has been caught up by you. You must join us, it’ll be fun."

"You said before that people outside don’t celebrate Midsummer?" Lucifel’s voice dropped at the mention of the "outside", "I wouldn't dare to be too loud, the Lord God will be sad if he hears it."

In Alastor's view, Lucifel's nature is like a curious little bird, born with the desire to explore the wider world. So he took the task of explaining his word to him: "Ceremonies are a part of religion…that is what people believe in, their faith. Naturally, different ceremonies depend on the region and the honored gods. Where I come from, many people believe in the existence of a different god and worship him with other ceremonies."

"Your God..." Lucifel’s tongue glided on this unfamiliar idea, "What is He like?". Now standing in the wind, Alastor realized for the first time that his yellow scarf was tied with a strip of white fabric, like the lead rope for sheep.

"Some describe Him as an old man with white hair and a white beard, and he’s the creator of everything. Many believe in this. "

"Then what about you? What do you believe in?"

"I have no faith."

Lucifel looked at Alastor in surprise, pitifully even, "Then what do you rely on to survive?"

"... Pardon?"

"Without the existence of god, is there any meaning for us to survive the four seasons, to be fruitful, or to multiply? It’s because of his existence that we can appreciate the preciousness of life." He stated this as a matter of fact. To him, his belief was natural as fruit trees sprout in the coming of spring, frost in the depth of winter.

Alastor had never seen such a simple and innocent person. He admired the cohesion of this strange religious system for its believers, protecting yet obscuring their senses, just like a cocoon around the soft body of a larva. It was Lucifel’s god who formed his life into this wildly beautiful shape, but it was Alastor’s duty to peel off the layers of silk and free his vision so that he could see the outside world with his own eyes like Helel. Yes, just like Helel.

"Anyway..." The breeze blew, "the Lord God is beyond our understanding — if he really exists, we are never ourselves to begin with..."

Alastor stared at Lucifel's golden eyes. From his flower crown, the blue pansy with stamens like eyes looked down at the outsider. He even felt that Lucifel had merged with the plants in the grass.

Lucifel reached out and brushed Alastor's dark brown, somewhat prickly hair off his forehead. This caused Alastor to return to his senses and stare at him in a daze. Seeing that Alastor didn’t move away, the blond youth smiled before grabbing his hand and leading him to the other side of the meadow.

Several pairs of boys and girls stood there among the flowers. Like the elders, they were dressed in cloud-like white robes with embroidery that mimicked real petals on the fabric. They seemed to be slightly younger than Lucifel and Alastor. They waved to Lucifel enthusiastically, who responded to them, smiling. Once they set their eyes upon Alastor, they all rushed over to observe him as if he were some magical creature they had never seen before.

"Alastor, this is Maja, Dani, Willow..." Lucifel patiently introduced them one by one, "and Howie and Pelle. They are all children who have never been outside the town."

These teenagers’ curiosity soon occupied Alastor with strange questions. "Where are you from?" asked Maja, a young girl with fiery red hair,

"From outside the forest, a place you don't know," Alastor replied.

"But what brought you here?"

"I came here to find a... friend of mine." Alastor avoided their gaze. These young people were as dear as family members to Lucifel, who, upon Alastor’s face, gently pushed them away.

"Do let this gentleman rest for a while. He has been traveling for a long time and must be very tired. You go on with preparing the flowers. I’ll join you later." The teenagers in white clothes dispersed at his command. Lucifel then took Alastor's hand and walked towards an oak tree.

The two found their seats on the soft green grass under the shade of the tree. From the leaves above, a few patches of sunlight sprinkled on Lucifel’s face. One of them illuminated his golden eyes. Alastor took the opportunity to carefully observe it, as if appreciating a precious yellow diamond on a velvety cushion. Much to his surprise, a circle of red hue surrounded Lucifel’s pupils. Curiously, it didn’t remind him of blood, but rather a poppy; devastatingly beautiful.

Lucifel was like those teenagers who didn’t understand the meaning of social boundaries. He sat so close to Alastor that he could feel the cold touch of his skin behind the layers of fabric. Being leaned on like this, he felt like a source of warmth for some small animals.

In his heart, Alastor had been hoping to leave. He came here just to find Helel, but there he was, sitting in the grass without any apparent reason. He couldn't even be sure whether Helel was alive or dead. He was eager to get an answer, but he didn't know how to bring this up to Lucifel, whose appearance was almost suspiciously identical to Helel. To communicate with him, or any other residents of Wicker Town, he simply couldn't use the usual logic of the outside world. Therefore, he was all by himself. He planned to go deeper into the matter and unearth the truth with his own hands.

"Alastor, I want to ask you something." Lucifel pushed his body against Alastor, "Why are you looking for Helel?"

"He disappeared, yet no one cared to find him. As his…classmate, it's only normal for me to care about him, right?"

It was clear that Lucifel wasn’t convinced. "Did you have a good relationship?"

"······We only exchanged a few words." Alastor lied, remembering what Helel once told him:

"I don't want to go back. Still, I know that I must do so one day. Just like fallen leaves will return to their roots one day, flying birds of young wings will also die, and fall into the soil, becoming one with nature once again..."

"Was he your lover?"

Alastor opened his eyes wide at the question. Lucifel's frankness left him unsure of how to answer. Blood rushed to his head, and his throat was clogged from shock and the unspoken words, so he only stared at Lucifel intensely.

Without realizing the effects his words had on Alastor, Lucifel moved on: "You should know that he’s now doing what he was destined to do since birth. The mission given to him by our Lord God has been completed, and he is very happy now. If you really loved him, you should smile for his completion."

"And to leave him like this, alone? How is that possible? He disappeared, without even saying farewell." Alastor exclaimed, "I will never cover my eyes or turn them away. I will see him myself. If he wants to stay here, it won't be too late to bless him with a smile until I hear him with my own ears."

Lucifel's face was expressionless, and he stared into the distant flowers, at his friends there, who were collecting the flowers in a strange way. They walked backwards, picking an anemone on the right and a cornflower on the left, and placing them into a wicker basket.

"If that's the case, I'll help you," Lucifel whispered. Before Alastor could get close to him to understand his words, the golden boy stood up and ran towards the flower-picking teens.

Joining them, he began to walk backwards on the grass, bending down to pick a flower. His movements were as light as the leaves of willow trees dancing in the wind by the lake. Carefully, he held the flowers by their stems as the bouquet in his hand grew. Alastor stayed at his seat under the tree and followed Lucifel’s silhouette in the sun. He was like a figure from a famous painting that Alastor had once seen, so beautiful as if he were from another world. In his imagination, perhaps he was a product of petals and dew, a delicate creation by the very own hands of his god.

How unfortunate that even a golden bird like him would have his wings plucked and forced to die in a cage. And other birds, the teenagers around him who greet their cruel fate with nothing but smiles on their faces, shall suffer the same end. The education they received and their understanding of the world were completely different from his, which moved Alastor’s heart to feel pity for them. Deep down, he didn’t consider his pity to be an arrogance to the ignorant, but rather completely reasonable. He was willing to respect the customs of Wicker Town and act indifferently towards those other teenagers, letting them live on as they were. However, Helel and Lucifel should have the chance to open their eyes.

Lucifel ran towards Alastor with hands full of flowers. Every step he took was as quick and graceful as the flight of a dragonfly on the water, reflecting himself in Alastor’s vision.

"This is for you, Alastor." Lucifel separated some bright red flowers from the bouquet. He held the blood-colored flowers so close to Alastor's eyes that the soft petals slightly touched his lenses and nose. "Keep them close to you, you will need them."

With other flowers, he began to skillfully weave them into wreaths. Under his fingers, the pink anemones and the soft-yellow St. John's wort quickly became intertwined with each other, and the fresh-smelling stems were curved to mirror his curled golden hair. The strand of long hair hung down naturally and swayed in the air.

"Thank you." Alastor didn't know the purpose of these flowers or when he should use them. Still, he decided to keep the blossoms, placing them on his legs before asking eagerly, "Lucifel, if you really meant what you promised to help me, can you tell me everything about Helel?"

Looking at the familiar face before him, he couldn’t help but search for Helel’s face in his memory. Strangely, there was always some unnatural difference that forced him to distinguish Lucifel from Helel. In his garden of memory named Helel, a gardener must have trimmed the flowers of the mind. Although his outline was no longer as vague as it was before, it was no longer that of the one he loved before...

"Looking for any people related to him would be futile. He has no family, just like all of us," he paused. "He is a child of god. We were born in the earth, air, and forest, and there we will all return one day."

Had Alastor not seen his eyes, he wouldn’t have believed any of the things Lucifel said. In his ears, it was nothing but nonsense. But the sincerity in Lucifel’s eyes told him that it was no lie.

At that moment, the little girl named Charlie rushed over to them. The grass rustled under her feet, and she threw herself into Lucifel's arms, who gently patted her head. They seemed as dear to each other as a family.

The child's innocent eyes observed Alastor curiously. Alastor turned to her with the friendliest smile he could and asked, "Charlie, where are your parents?"

"Parents?" Charlie blinked. "What is that?"

"It seems that you’ve confused Charlie, as we don't share your concept of parenthood here." A man’s voice interrupted the temporary confusion. Behind him, his robe trailed on the ground as he walked towards them. "She was born from nature, as was Lucifel, and even Helel, whom you know, was no exception."

Alastor looked at the man warily. The priest was a very tall and thin man, but nevertheless seemed to be much healthier than Lucifel. His white-gold hair appeared to be gilded under the blazing sun, weighing on his shoulders like wheat ears. His eyes were as deep blue as the lake’s center, making him look wise yet unfathomable at the same time. He was dressed in a simple white robe, with no noticeable differences from the residents in the town at first glance. But around the collar and cuffs, geometric patterns were embroidered by delicate golden threads that glittered like raindrops under the light. On his chest, the threads joined together into the pattern of a sun to mimic nature’s glory.

Another golden halo headpiece crowned his hair under the wreath of daisies and blue-purple morning glories. The curved vines and petals covered his ears, lending him the appearance of fantastical creatures from legends.

"Lord Priest." Lucifel smiled and politely greeted the man who was much older than he, "Alastor, this is the high priest of Wicker Town, Lord Gabriel. The Midsummer Celebration of every year lies in his responsibility. Everyone in this town respects him very much for this."

The high priest smiled back at Lucifel in the same manner that the eldest son might employ towards his favorite relative. He turned his attention to the outsider, and the shadow of his robe blocked the sunlight, covering Alastor and the grass beneath him in shadow.

Alastor stood up out of politeness and brushed off the dirt on his pants. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Gabriel. You just said that Helel was born from nature? What does that mean?"

Once again, the sun returned, seemingly leaving Alastor the only person on the hillside standing directly in the sunlight. With his dark skin, he was out of place among the pale residents of Wicker Town.

Cornflowers of the same color as his eyes decorated the right chest of Gabriel's priestly robe alongside morning glories and ivory-white lilies. At the top of the corsage were feathers of a white bird's wing that fluttered in the wind, attempting to escape from the waves of flora.

Gabriel’s gaze quickly met Lucifel’s, who understood the silent sign and nodded. As a response, he tiptoed to Alastor and whispered to him: "I must go now. You can meet me upstairs in the tavern later. By then, dinner will be placed on the table in your room. Only after eating our food will nature accept you into its embrace." He squeezed Alastor's hand and waved to Charlie, who then followed him down the hillside.

Alastor and Gabriel watched Lucifel's golden hair disappear among the wildflowers on the hills before the small dot reappeared in the distance between the fairy-tale houses. Around him, another white dot circled, jumping and running from excitement. They turned their heads at the same time and waved to the outsider and the high priest. Alastor moved to wave back, and his tight smile relaxed.

"Mr. Alastor, we should talk." Gabriel said, the gold ring on the hand drew a sharp curve of reflection under the daylight, "The elders have told me the purpose of your visit."

"Please tell me the truth, Mr. Gabriel." His smile was as at ease as usual, "Is Helel dead?"

The priest pursed his lips. Before Alastor could ask any further questions, he turned his back on him and walked towards the yellow triangular building. "Do come with me, Mr. Alastor." He said.

Unsatisfied by the priest’s avoidance, Alastor followed him nevertheless. Gabriel's cape fluttered in the wind from time to time, along with his long platinum hair. They walked along the lakeshore. The sound of waves hitting the shoreline seemed to bring calm to the scene, but the storm of thoughts in Alastor's heart raged on.

"I mentioned before that we don't share the concept of parents in this village. This should be difficult for an outsider like you to understand." Gabriel's robe trailed on the ground as his voice travelled on in the wind. "It could be explained by the following: In Wicker Town, all newborn children shall leave their biological parents and be raised as a collective by the community to ensure that they can all receive the same good education."

Alastor was surprised at his sudden anger, "Excuse me, sir, but how is this different than putting them in a cage?"

Gabriel shook his head dismissively: "I will excuse you— this has been our town’s tradition for hundreds of years. It’s only natural that outsiders can't understand it. I cannot blame you for this. But all of this constitutes our beautiful cycle: we are nurtured by nature at birth, where we shall also return after death. At its mercy, the dead shall become part of the grass and trees and dedicate themselves to our beloved god."

Alastor was speechless at this new information. The priest walked in front of him, as he was met with Alastor’s silence, he continued, "I know what your heart is most concerned about. Is it about the child named Helel? If you so want to see him for the last time, there is still another way worth trying."

"······I'm all ears." In his heart, Alastor still couldn't believe the priest’s strange words. It seemed more probable that Helel was already dead.

They arrived at the open space in front of the yellow triangle. Now Alastor could see that there was nothing there but a strangely shaped altar.

"Tomorrow, when the sun shines at its peak, you will be told about the way at the banquet. You must become one of us in order to see him."

Alastor looked around the town. It was as beautiful as a fairy tale, but eerily unreal. Especially after he had seen the outside world, his wish had become for the birds to fly out of the forest’s depths and see the real blue sky.

"I understand, Mr. Gabriel," Alastor said, peaking at the silvery watch on his wrist. The thick pointer had moved to the number ten, yet the sun still hung high in the sky.

"If you will excuse me now, I have to go to the tavern. Lucifel is already waiting for me."
With that, Alastor took his leave, walking towards the tavern with the sun sign across the lake. Behind him, Gabriel’s eyes silently followed his shadow; his face devoid of any emotion.

"Lucifel seems to be fond of you." After a faint sigh, Gabriel spoke, "Perhaps it's because of your nature, or it's just because you are an outsider - and nothing more."

Alastor stopped mid-step. "Or perhaps it’s because I'm just not as serious as your people, but I treated him with honesty." His tone refused to give in to the priest's sarcasm.

"Take this as my warning, don't try to change him, Mr. Alastor." Gabriel's tone was as sharp as the blade of grass: "He's not who you think he is."

Alastor’s smile rose higher. The sharpness of his mouth corner could only be rivaled by the curve of the absent moon.

"I think he’ll make his own choice. After all, nothing has proved itself capable of stopping a human’s free will, and the same goes for that god of yours whom I have never seen."

Not wanting to continue the dialogue, he quickly left the holy ground with the image of the unknown god lingering in his mind. He imagined that he was around him, letting animals and plants act as His eyes, observing him on his behalf. But Lucifel and Helel, who are they? Why, every time he sees those two pairs of very similar eyes, it was as if his soul has been snatched away? The priest with the golden ring, was he one of the blind, or was he pretending to be asleep?

He was numbed and puzzled by everything the villagers did and said to him. The only thing he could feel was the gentle breeze around him. In his ears, the rustling of the anemones and wild lilies on the roadside turned into an indistinguishable murmur, leaving him with nothing to see or hear except the beauty of that loving god.

Chapter Text

At the entrance of the tavern with the sign of the blue-eyed sun, singing can be heard coming from the sun-illuminated glass windows. It was a simple, cheerful tune accompanied by instruments. Alastor attempted to make out the lyrics, but the obscure language was unknown to him. With one push, he opened the door and walked in. The tavern was overwhelmed with locals in white robes, singing or drinking quietly. When people sitting at the entrance saw him, they turned their eyes towards him unanimously. Miraculously, the rhythm produced by their hands was not disordered at all. All their mouths became one for the song, as if they had sung it thousands of times.

The smell of malt drinks and cider filled the tavern. Occasionally, the smell of spruce and pine pierced the dusty air. There he was: Lucifel leaned on the handrail of the stairs leading to the second floor. He partook in the tune by tapping his delicate fingers on the rough logs and softly humming the folk song. Alastor didn't disturb him, but leaned against the bar, eavesdropping on Lucifel's weak, slightly hoarse singing. He couldn’t help but picture a world where Lucifel could sing freely. Maybe there, his voice would be much more beautiful than it is here.

Lucifel caught a glimpse of Alastor from the corner of his eye, beckoning him to come over with a smile. Alastor made his way through the drunken crowd with some difficulties before pausing at the bottom of the stairs. Lucifel stood on the steps, looking down at him, and the weak light of the chandelier illuminated the darkness behind him.

"You are here." He said, "Come with me, your luggage is already upstairs."

Alastor followed him to the room upstairs, leaving the strange music beneath his feet. Through the terrace’s stairs, he could sense the steam from alcohol on the residents. Lucifel pushed open a door, and Alastor followed him, almost stealthily closing the door to isolate themselves from the noises. But the silence was only temporary, and the music dripped through the cracks like waterdrops.

It was a simple room with only the most essential furniture: a bed, a bedside table, a table, and a chair. There were no lamps in the room, as it was unnecessary for this mysterious land where the sun would never sink below the horizon. The sheets on the bed were a simple white color, and Alastor's luggage had already been moved from the trunk of the rented car to the corner of his room.

"This is your room. Do you like it?" Lucifel asked expectedly. After all, he has personally arranged his room for his precious stranger.

"It's good enough. Thank you." Alastor smiled at Lucifel, walked to the window that faced the holy ground—the yellow triangle and the sea of flowers surrounding the building. Around it, fields bearing vegetables and fruits were scattered in grass, caging the sapphire-like lake, a reminder of Helel's eyes. Alastor’s thoughts were again stirred.

"I'll get dinner," Lucifel said and opened the door to leave. The music mixed with the smell of cider invaded the room for a second, and then was driven out by the door’s closing.

Alastor came back to his senses. He opened the suitcase on the ground and sorted his clothes on the bed one by one into piles. The sunlight outside the window sprinkled on the bedsheet, the birds chirped, the leaves rustled, and all the beautiful natural sounds merged into harmonious music carried through the window by the wind. The walls of pine and spruce wood were filled with lingering floral fragrance, making Alastor's body seem lighter and tiring his mind.

He looked at the watch on his wrist again. Without him realizing it, time had slipped through his fingers and had reached the eleventh hour in the evening. The sun in front of the window was still blazing out of control, blinding him if he ever dared to look at its halo. For a moment, he thought he had heard whispers rising from the plants, but soon, they vanished without a trace, blown away by the wind. Just when his ears thought they had captured them again, Lucifel came back. Once again, noises mixed with the smell of cider filled the room, breaking the spell.

Absently, Alastor rubbed his eyes behind the lenses, feeling that he could use a good rest.

Lucifel had brought him a wooden tray with a cup of an unknown drink and a plate of food that looked like some mashed potatoes and sausages. Carefully, he set the plate down on the table and joined Alastor at the window with the cup.

"Sorry, it took longer than I expected. Now, please." He said. The cup of water was turbid, containing small yellow flowers and a few green leaves. Alastor looked at Lucifel in disbelief, unsure whether he wanted to accept the cup.

"What is this?" he asked.

"This is st. John's Wort tea." Lucifel said. He pushed the cup towards Alastor's lightly clenched palm, the liquid in it had the color of an old, yellowed photo. "This is our way of showing hospitality - you must have seen the flowers here, the ones that grow on the roadside. They look inconspicuous, but are nevertheless sacred to us."

"I thought all plants were apostles of your 'Lord God, '" Alastor said half-jokingly, turning his head to the scene outside the window. His eyes unconsciously observed Lucifel's dim reflection in the glass. The yellow scarf and the branches in his hair swayed in the wind to a silent tune, mimicking the flow of the lake and ​​trees outside the window, as if he were also part of nature’s beauty.

Lucifel's reflection smiled at him, "But this flower is the brightest right eye ofthe Lord god. He observes us and watches over everything through those flowers."

Alastor looked at Lucifel's glassy reflection in silence. His golden eyes on the window overlapped with a layer of blue lake water outside. Staying in the distant world upstairs, the lyrics he didn't understand sounded vague. Lucifel must have understood them, for he lowered his head in embarrassment, turning his attention to his clothes hem.

"Drink it, so we don't have to worry about being disturbed." Lucifel pushed the cup of flower tea to Alastor again. A chill suddenly overcame Alastor, as if rain at the junction of winter and spring had fallen onto him from the sky. "Now, no one can come between us..."

Lucifel’s eyes were glued on him. At this moment, the sky outside turned into a light gray-blue, and the sun’s glow was turned into an orange-yellow hue like nectar. Alastor raised the cup to his mouth, putting his lips against the edge of the cup, and drank the cloudy liquid. The bitterness of the herbs mixed with the strange sweetness entangled his tongue like algae.

He just felt dizzy, and the water with the taste of overripe fruit invaded his mind like a flood and mixed into his blood vessels.

"What on earth is this..." His thoughts were spiraling.

Lucifel still looked at him with a smile. On his face, a pink sunset of blush spread like ripples, and his golden eyes… it was as if two suns had appeared in the dusk.

Alastor’s eyes were blinded by the two suns in front of him, and the scorching star outside the window behind him seemed to grow, threatening to engulf the entire Wicker Town, letting them disappear in the shining light with the blue figure of his memory.

Perhaps it was the fire burning him, or the calling of someone or something that caused him to turn his head.

Outside, golden light overshadowed the lake; the trees were shrunk, as if they were on fire, everything melting together to form a curtain of a natural nocturne, the opening of a wonderful illusion, urging him to join and become part of this strange scene. The pine and spruce stretched out their branches from the window, inviting him, grabbing his limbs, until he was merged with those branches, and tender leaves grew from his fingers.

He was dizzy. In the distance, it was as if something was calling out to him. Shakily, he took a few steps forward, but lost his footing and fell out of the window. Luckily, he landed on the soft haystack under the window and stood up safely. He vaguely heard a cry of surprise.
His mind couldn’t produce an answer, but just fixated on the tangerine-like sun, ripening into a strange fiery red, at the end of the horizon. Wild grass grew wildly on his feet, vines drilled into his head. As if driven into madness, he ran towards the lake.

In the middle of the lake, there was a blond figure standing there, with his back to him. The deep lake water submerged his waist. The sunset sprinkled on him like a veil of gold powder.

And he was like — like a god.

"——" He didn't realize what words had slipped out of his mouth. The dripping red began to rot into purple. The purple then bloomed into water lilies around that figure. Alastor ran towards him, not caring if his shoes and socks were immersed in the freezing lake water. The purple, red, and orange of the sky; the green and black of the trees; the blue and white of the flower fields; all the colors seemed to drip into the lake, swirling and dancing around the golden statue.

"——!" He screamed with all his might. The other couldn't hear his call, but only lured him to the depths of the lake. The water submerged his waist, his chest, until it filled his vision.
Yes, he was going to return to the embrace of nature like everyone else in this town, and be buried with what he so desperately wanted -

That place beyond the fire, and the face he couldn't remember -

"Alastor, wake up!"

There he was, standing on the shore, and the lake water didn't even wet his legs. He was violently ripped out of the illusion, coming back to his senses; to the red hue in Lucifel's eyes, not the blue in his memory.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you would react like that-"

Alastor breathed rapidly, gasping for air. It took several painful minutes for his mind to process what he had just experienced, "What on earth did you give me to drink, damn it... I couldn't speak just now…it was… as if my body was controlled by something else..."

"I'm sorry, I..."

"No, it was nothing…" He interrupted Lucifel, annoyed, although his anger was only partially caused by being tricked into consuming hallucinogens.

He turned around and walked back towards the Sun Tavern. Exhausted, he wished for nothing but sleep, a chance for his mind to sort out all these strange events he had encountered. The anger in his heart raged on. He wanted to break free from this cage, to take Lucifel away from this chaos, and -

"Fortunately, you haven't passed the ritual set by our god. Otherwise, I couldn't wake you up by myself alone just now. Your consciousness won't let you wake up, but you will become trapped in your 'dream', doing whatever your heart desires. Lord Gabriel said that this dose was far from enough to cause such a deep hallucination… I’m sorry…" He muttered. The effect of hallucinogens was beyond his control.

Alastor heard what he said, but chose not to answer. In his heart, he silently marked his words. He must step into this illusion of Midsummer Night to meet the "god" again. The strange figure with feather-like, golden hair was unmistakable —the one he had been searching for.

The sun-like "God" was none other than Helel Morningstar.

Chapter Text

Even though the eternal sun in Willow Town ever became somnolent for a few hours at night, Alastor fell asleep quickly and didn’t wake up all night. However, he found no consolation in the chaos of dreams. Futilely, his subconscious tried to force him awake, but his mind was trapped in the cage of nightmares from the fire.

In his nightmare, he was standing in front of ruins, and the blinding blue and red warning lights flickered between the flames.
Helel, the person who had talked and laughed with him, the only person he was familiar with and willing to befriend, crawled out of the inferno. He was wearing that blue robe from the photo. But this time, flames danced on the hem of his clothes, the end of the yellow scarf, and the ends of his hair, before quickly and greedily spreading all over his body.

Alastor saw him smiling at him. It was a tired smile, but there was a strange sense of satisfaction, as if he was happy to be destroyed in this fire, as if he had no more regrets in this world.

But it couldn't be like this. There was a breath in the wind that told him that it wasn’t the expression Helel would show. At that time, his subconscious came back to itself. This is a dream.

He couldn’t look away from this macabre scene, and his eyes were glued on Helel. Flames consumed his flesh, peeling off his charred skin, revealing white bones and dry eye sockets on the right half of his face. Alastor opened his mouth to scream and reach out his hand. But in the dream, he could only stand by and watch as the tide of Helel's life fell away.

He couldn't make any sound. But Helel understood him, smiling at him and opening his arms–

"Alastor! Are you okay..." An anxious cry saved him from the nightmare.

He slowly opened his eyes to the sun and was greeted by the vague outline of a figure under the daylight. "It's almost time for lunch. I thought I might come and wake you up."

Alastor ran his fingers through his dark brown curly hair, which was always a little messy after waking up. He was still not used to Lucifel's unconcerned behavior.

"Good morning, no, good afternoon, Lucifel. Please knock first next time and don't come in without permission."

He fumbled for the glasses on the bedside table, put them on, and the scene before his eyes became clear instantly.

The figure in front of him no longer shared the uncanny similarity with the person in his dream, and the connection between them was much weaker to the naked eye.

Like everyone in the town, Lucifel was clad in a greyish-white robe. The hem above his knees was pleated into beautiful folds. In a similar style, the sides and cuffs were also slit open and sewn with blood-red thread.

Even in the summer heat, this thin-layered white skirt wasn’t enough to resist the morning and evening chill. To counter the occasional cool breeze, he wore a light pink, sleeveless coat over the robe, with yellow clothes tied at the waist. Embroidery in the shape of pink anemones and real flowers decorated his clothes, mixed with some daisies as a change to the color palette. Alastor recalled vaguely that they were the same flowers the children had picked the day before. Around his wrists, the sleeves ended in strips of delicate red fabrics that were tied into knots, as if imitating bandages used to stop bleeding. The flower vine crawled up his body like a dangerous, poisonous serpent. From this perspective, the red threads looked like his blood.

He no longer looked so frighteningly like Helel, which wiped out most of the irritation that Alastor had taken from the dream. He got out of bed with feigned ease, walking into the bathroom and starting to clean his face.

"We will meet at the lake for lunch today, and everyone will be there. You know, it's where our Lord God resides."

So it’s where the yellow triangle is. Alastor thought as he scooped up a pool of cold water and buried his face in it to wash. He saw Lucifel’s reflection smiling and looking at him in the mirror.

"You look good without glasses." He remarked without blushing. The wreath decorating his head was smaller than that of yesterday, with anemones, cornflowers, and that inconspicuous but strange flower: st. John’s Wort. The one strand of hair he had deliberately grown out was carefully braided with cornflowers and daisies snaking their ways downwards, as if they had grown directly from his head. At the braid’s end, a ring was tied there.

Alastor didn't know how to face his compliment except to joke a little sharply: "I'm glad you didn’t wear that blue robe from yesterday. Pink suits you better."

He blinked, "Today is a special day, so I want to wear pink." He looked at Alastor's slightly gloomy face in the mirror, "You don't seem very happy, Alastor? Cheer up, if everything goes well today, you can finally find a way you were searching for to meet Helel."

Alastor remained speechless. He walked out of the bathroom and pushed Lucifel towards the door with one hand, to which he responded with a hurt and confused expression, and Alastor had to pinch his shoulder to clarify his point gently. "I need to change now, you go first. I'll meet you there."

Lucifel finally left his room obediently. Alastor breathed a sigh of relief before closing the door and beginning to dress himself for the gathering. He would soon know how to meet Helel. Whatever “the way” may be, he couldn’t afford to let the opportunity slip from his fingers. The scenery outside the window seemed not to have changed at all since his arrival. But upon closer inspection, there was a long white line running along the yellow triangle, and small white dots were moving around the line.

After making himself presentable, he opened the door. To his surprise, Lucifel waited for him on the steps downstairs.

"Why didn't you go first?" Although he didn’t mind him staying and waiting for him, he was startled nonetheless. Now standing there, Alastor could see that he wasn’t wearing any shoes or socks. Instead, flower vines coiled and twisted on his legs.

"But I want to go with you." He said, slowly walking out of the tavern, his eyes fixed on the surprised young man. "Come now."

So they walked together; the sound of bells was endless along the way. How strange, Alastor thought, it didn’t sound like a human of the same age was walking beside him, but he was followed by some domesticated animal.

Today's weather seemed to be better than yesterday's. The sun shone upon the entire lake, illuminating it like a gem as each ripple reflected the colorful hue. The light was projected on the flowers all over the mountains, lending the feather-light petals the iridescence of insect wings. The entire town was dyed with all colors of God’s creation.

"I like the lake at noon the most. It's beautiful, isn't it?" Lucifel walked beside Alastor with brisk steps.

Alastor nodded. "It's lovely indeed."

They came to a halt at the foot of the yellow triangle, and noises returned. The residents were preparing lunch there, and the smell of food flooded their senses. Strangely, it didn’t arouse any appetite in Alastor. He then realised that what he believed was a white line from his room’s window was, in fact, a series of dining tables that formed the letter “R” with two other, slightly shorter tables.

Gabriel, dressed in his priest attire, stood in front of the table. Around him, younger children held food and wine in their hands and placed them on the table. The middle-aged and elderly have already gathered at the dining table. When they saw Alastor and Lucifel approaching them, they smiled as greetings. The young children also rushed to Lucifel. Alastor recognised Maja, Dani, Willow, Howie, and Pelle as the children who were picking flowers yesterday. He also recognised some faces among the elders: the old man with salmon eyes and some of his friends, to whom Alastor showed the burned photo of Helel.

" You’re finally here." Gabriel walked towards them, and at his heels, little Charlie followed. When she saw Lucifel, she ran to his side and only waved to Alastor timidly. Alastor has never been good at getting along with children, but he still smiled kindly at her.

He turned his attention back to Gabriel. "Good afternoon, Mr. Gabriel." Despite his best effort to hide his discontent, his tone was still as sharp as a cold wind.

"So it’s indeed true that people outside have a more... lazy lifestyle." Gabriel pointed at the sun hanging high in the sky, "Or are you the only one like this, Mr. Alastor?" After saying that, he turned to the elders at the table and laughed, and the elders also chuckled because of his joke.

"That's not the case, Lord Gabriel." Lucifel saw Alastor's frown and came to his rescue, "It was my fault for having mistaken the dosage of the tea... Alastor must have been affected by it and overslept."

Alastor knew that Gabriel was hostile to him, and the tension spread around them like cold air. There was no doubt Lucifel respected, even admired, Gabriel. However, he still mustered up enough courage to defend Alastor in the face of the respectable priest. It dawned on him that Gabriel would not easily let him finish this lunch in peace.

"Oh, if that’s the case, do excuse me, Mr. Alastor. You didn't feel unwell last night, did you? Or perhaps you did dream of something?"

"······I'm fine, please don't ask any more questions." Luckily, the children in white clothes placed the last batch of food on the tables, which were covered with a white tablecloth. Taking this as a sign, Gabriel paused the conversation and knocked the glass in front of the table with a silver fork. "Everyone, you may take your seat at the table."

Lucifel led Alastor to the last seat at the end of the first stroke of the R shape, and took his place next to him at the corner. Charlie sat next to them; the table was too high for her to even rest her chin on it. To Alastor’s dismay, Gabriel sat right opposite him. From the corner of his eyes, he saw the old man with salmon-like eyes sitting in the last position at the end. Salmon-eye seemed to notice his gaze, and their eyes met for a moment. His dull eyes were very strange, and his dead fish-like gaze made Alastor immediately look down at the food in front of him. It was some kind of pie, and it was hard to tell what the filling was. On its crust, dough was kneaded into shapes of flowers. Next to the pie, there was the dreadfully familiar drink.

It was the same tea brewed with St. John’s Wort. In the cloudy liquid floated tattered yellow flowers. At the bottom of the cup, sunken petals were scattered around like feathers of a dead canary on the ground. He counted the number of flowers. There were three in total, the same number as the drink he drank last night.

He quietly looked over at the cup in front of Lucifel. The number was the same. He looked at Charlie's cup again. Her cup was made of wood, with less liquid in it, and only two flowers. Everyone else’s drink was the same as the one he drank last night, with three flowers.

Alastor felt dizzy and uncomfortable as if he was short of oxygen. At this time, everyone was seated. Although the villagers of the entire Wicker Town had gathered here, the number was only a few dozen people. The smiles on their faces were like the overly sunny weather, making Alastor uncomfortable and uneasy to enjoy the summer sunshine.

Gabriel stood up, and an expression of satisfaction spread on his face. Everything was calm and peaceful. Except for that outsider and Lucifel, who was particularly fond of him, everyone had put on pure-white robes. Looking around, his eyes were met with silent responses, believing that he would convey the holy words of the Lord God to them as usual.

Charlie put her chin on the table, swinging her legs back and forth. Despite her young age, she had long been accustomed to this long ritual before the meal. On his other side, Lucifel stared at the high priest intently. Alastor couldn’t see his expression, but he knew that it must be the expression of someone obsessed with piety. It must be the same as his mother had put on when she was kneeling in front of the cross, praying to God of the outside world for peace and happiness.

"God's people, and his most loyal servants!" Gabriel raised his hands as if to hold up the sun. "Midsummer's Day will soon grace us. Our Lord God shall wake up from his long sleep and promise us a fruitful harvest day. Before we get together to discuss the arrangements for the ceremony, I have permission to introduce a friend from afar." He looked at Alastor, who was sitting at the far end of the table.

"Mr. Alastor. Some of you may have seen him. He shall join us this year in the competition for the crown." He declared.

In an instant, the residents all looked at Alastor, turning back almost at the same time. Alastor could see that behind their smiles, there was also distrust and fear of outsiders. Some people whispered, their voice was like that of trees and birds, obviously not wanting a stranger to join their ceremony, let alone become one of them.

In silence, Lucifel stood up, took a deep breath, mustering up his courage. He then declared: "Alastor has a good heart, please be more tolerant of him. It’s never his intention to harbor any ill will towards you."

With Lucifel's assurance, the residents seemed to be relieved of their burden of worry. Alastor took this opportunity to stand up and raise his glass, whose contents promised him endless illusions.

"Before you regard me as a pagan and raise your voice in protest to drive me out, please listen to me." He said calmly, staring into Gabriel's eyes, "I have something I have to pursue in this town. Mr. Gabriel told me that as long as I participate and win the competition, I’ll be granted passage to the cemetery to see my..." He paused, "friend named Helel... Everyone says that he no longer dwells among us. In your words, he has returned to god. But I want to see his remains with my own eyes before giving up. I’m not a so-called pagan of the outside world, for I dare not disrespect your god. In order to see Helel, I’ll pay any price. So, please accept me as one of you."

After he finished arguing for himself, although his sincerity was hard to tell, he nevertheless raised his glass high. Without any hesitation, Lucifel stood up and raised his glass. To Alastor's surprise, when the villagers saw him standing up, they also joined this seemingly meaningless celebration. Salmon-eye and other seniors also raised their glasses of illusory liquid high. They suddenly smiled at Alastor like happy crickets jumping in the grass. Their movements were so consistent that they resembled the sudden appearance of identical leaves on a branch.

Alastor looked at Lucifel. He seemed very happy that his family chose to accept Alastor, but he was not surprised either, for he knew the weight of his words among the community.

"Since Lord Gabriel and Lucifel have no objection, we shall certainly welcome you." An old man with a long beard said. Alastor met Gabriel's eyes. Although their smiles mirrored for a moment, only they could see the provocation in each other's expressions.

"Although it has been agreed by everyone that you may participate in our ceremony this year, I highly doubt that you can win the 'competition'." Gabriel said, putting the wine glass to his lips, "In any case, I shall wish you good luck, Mr. Alastor."

Then, he emptied his glass.

The residents followed him and drank the cup in front of them. Lucifel also dutifully swallowed the hallucinogen.

Alastor couldn’t bring it over himself to swallow the liquid, so he raised his glass in pretension; the side effects of this tea had on him were much stronger than those of any of the residents.
He couldn’t risk being overcome by the hallucination from last night again, at least not here. He took advantage of the time when no one cared and swiftly poured the water in his glass into Charlie's wooden cup. Shirley didn't drink the drink, but just toyed with the button-eyed lamb doll in her hand, immersed in the innocent world of children.

When everyone had set down their glasses, the table fell into eerie silence again. Not knowing where to look, Alastor returned his attention to the fish pie in front of him. From beneath the crust, the dead salmon lamented, accusing everyone yet no one of its unjust death. Gabriel stood up, and everyone fixed their eyes upon his lips, awaiting sacred words as serious as staring at a noble sculpture.

"God's most faithful servants, before we enjoy God's gift, it’s my duty to remind you of the grand 'Chase' we hold every ten years. This has been a part of our tradition in celebrating the Midsummer Festival, in order to make God smile and continue to bless our ceremony." He said, "Our most blessed 'son of God', Lucifel, would play the role of 'prey' in the chase. And all young people in the 'summer' stage may partake in the Chase and become 'hunters'. The fate written by our Lord God shall select three people among those worthy.

"The prey will hide in the forest when the sun rises again. And three proud hunters shall look for the prey, and the first person to 'hunt' the prey down will be declared the final winner. As for the reward-" He paused to enjoy the effect his words had on every young face at the table. "The winner may decide for himself. "

Alastor’s eager ears captured the words and made up his mind silently. He looked at Lucifel, who showed no signs of any emotions. He simply listened to Gabriel's words, untouched by the white-clothed teenagers' whispering joy. It was as if he had no idea that he would soon become a hare and be chased by a pack of hungry wolves. And Alastor, to grasp even the faintest hope to see Helel, had no choice but to chase after Lucifel. None other but Lucifel, the light-bringing son of God, who looked almost exactly like Helel, who sat so close to him.

"Young men who wish to prove their loyalty to Lord God in the ceremony can throw their names into the lake after they have taken their meals. God will make his judgment." Gabriel's usual emotionless face glowed in anticipation for the celebration, "Now, let us pray. "

Obediently, everyone closed their eyes and joined their hands in prayer. Lucifel followed suit. He closed his glowing golden eyes, and his light eyelashes fluttered in the air like the tail feathers of a nestling. Even Charlie had temporarily put her precious toy aside.

The outsider didn’t close his eyes. Now he was the only one left in the silent air. Everyone's vision was covered by the barrier of skin in front of their eyes. Now, there was nothing else observing him except flowers, trees, and the scorching sun in the sky.

So, he hid the cup of tea in front of Charlie on the grass under the table.

"Oh Lord God, to whom we pray devoutly, allow us to walk through every corner of your body in the draught of midsummer until all things that your flesh has become, trees, water, fire, and land, shall accept our devotion. Oh, god of the wildness, we pray for the sacred son of the sun to return to your arms and dedicate the ceremony for your glory. Please bless our orchards and farmlands, bless them with fertility, and bless them with new strength! Hail to the great god!"

"Hail to the great god!" Everyone chanted in unison.

The heat waves of summer washed over people. After the villagers opened their eyes, they began to eat the fish pie in front of them. The food had nothing praiseworthy apart from the delicate wheat pattern on the pie crust, yet the rotten smell couldn’t be overplayed. Alastor took only one bite and ignored the rest. The others laughed, chatted, and enjoyed the food, as if it were divine provision from Heaven. Under the hanging sun, Alastor's thoughts had crossed the river of time, drifting to the forest of tomorrow.

Chapter Text

The concept of time had no importance in this town. It was as if its passage was trapped in frozen soil, unable to break through. Despite the eternal sunshine, no warmth could reach the seed, six feet under.

The villagers have consumed most of the food, seemingly ignoring the rotten smell. The only two portions left were on the plates in front of Alastor and Salmon-eye.

Gabriel glanced at Alastor's plate with some dissatisfaction and then announced, "Everyone may return to their work now. We shall gather here in five hours."

Unanimously, the residents made prayer gestures and left, but not before greeting Lucifel enthusiastically and asking him about his plans for tomorrow's celebration. Maja and Dani ran over from the far end of the table to enjoy the crowd. They chatted like sparrows, and Alastor eavesdropped on their conversation without noticing it at first.

"Lucifel, we’ve prepared your ceremonial clothes for tomorrow; Don't you worry! Even if you get scratched by branches, we can still fix them for you." Dani declared proudly.

"Then you may have a lot of work to do," Lucifel blushed, "Remember the last time we practiced? It was pitch black in the forest, and I couldn't even see the road clearly…"

"Yet you run so fast!" Maja’s body shook from excitement, "You’re worthy in every way of being Lord God’s most beloved child. You were like a hare riding the wind in the forest, running away in a flash!"

The three of them laughed, and little Charlie leaned against Lucifel’s ear and asked, "Have you thought about where to hide tomorrow?"

"That..." Lucifel lowered his voice, his voice was rustling, like a breeze blowing through the leaves, " is a secret. I can't say it here." As he said that, he threw a careful glance at Alastor, who was still sitting at the table.

The three children laughed even harder, excited by the thought of keeping such an important secret. For them, it was the first time they had seen a stranger who joined their peaceful life so determinedly. His presence amidst them was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, awakening the sleeping golden fish at its bottom. Of course, none of them believed that Alastor could win the game. They just thought he was indulging in wishful thinking and was probably crazy, wanting to find a non-existent person.

Alastor was going to leave, but all the children were gathered around the table, so he couldn't take away the hidden cup of tea without being noticed. At this time, the young girl named Willow came over and asked Alastor, "Sir, do you really want to join the chase tomorrow?"

Alastor nodded. He heard several young men joking by the lake behind him, betting on who would be chosen. Seeing that he had made up his mind, Willow suddenly said mysteriously, "Then you have to be careful, oh, be careful or else Lucifel might disappear without a trace like the person you’re looking for…"

The young man smiled in silence. Searchingly, he looked into Lucifel's golden eyes, to its core, where the red hue glowed more fiery than a rose. Perhaps, Lucifel too would be turned into a red flower, although not a rose. Such a delicate flower shouldn’t exist in the cruel forest. But regardless, he would definitely find him, if only by his color alone, plucking him from the earth before putting him in a glass bottle. If he were to be turned into a gust of wind, then Alastor would climb the highest of the trees only to follow his footsteps.

"Excuse me, do you have paper and a pen?" he said.

Little Charlie immediately took out half a crayon from her pocket and proudly handed it to Alastor. Meeting her expectant eyes, he patted her head, then wrote his name on the napkin in front of him. Everyone followed him as he stood up. Only Lucifel quickened his pace to walk alongside him, and asked: "Are you sure you want to participate? And will Lord God choose you?"

"He will." Alastor said, not stopping until the lake had gently touched the tip of his shoes, "I promise he will."

Lucifel took a deep breath, then joined his hands together in a prayer; his eyes fixed on the lake water that was bluer than sapphire, "Lord God, please heed my prayer, I ask nothing but for Alastor to become the hunter who shall find me in the dark forest - being hunted by him is better than by anyone else on this world. Please..."

Alastor looked at him and smiled, "Do you think your god can hear it?" The rustling voices of Maja, Willow, Dani, and Charlie came from behind him.

"I am a child of the Lord God. Naturally, he will take care of his people and love all his loyal servants equally." Lucifel looked at the lake persistently, as if something was about to rise from the waves.

Alastor chose not to answer and threw the napkin with his name on it into the lake. The waves pushed the fabric to the center of the lake, where it sank beneath the surface. The laughter came from behind him again. From the corner of his eye, he saw two young men, their glances already judging his worthiness as their competitor.

He raised his head; the sun wasn’t allowed to be gazed upon directly. Under this dazzling light, everything he did was observed by an unknown god, whose white hems trapped them like birds and beasts, forever keeping them under his protection like cages.

It was under the scorching gaze of that god that he returned to the dining table. The laughing children had already left. The only remaining figure was Lucifel, standing in the distance and looking at him worriedly. Seizing the opportunity, Alastor quietly took the hidden cup from under the table and planned to return to the tavern.

But Lucifel followed. Alastor hid the drink behind him and asked instead sharply, "Why don't you go find your friends?"

Lucifel was stunned. "Are you angry about what Willow said earlier about Helel?" He looked troubled. "We in Wicker Town have always been like this, speaking whatever is on our minds. Because we’re all one, our god told us to share everything, including emotions."

Alastor was eager to free the canary and let his cognition fly out of god's cage. Blind devotion was like a tree that had firmly taken its roots in Lucifel's heart—if he were to uproot it now, Lucifel might fall apart. By then, if he found Helel, would he still try to save Lucifel? He didn't dare to dwell on this question. For countless times, he had thought about the possibility that he and Helel were the same person, but they were just weirdly different.

Alastor’s mind wandered; he couldn't help but think of the goldfish he had kept when he was a child. He enjoyed the sight of the goldfish's translucent tail gliding across the water, and he also liked to put his nose against the glassy bowl and watch the goldfish swim in the small pool with childish curiosity. Its head was too small and its mind too simple to even realise that there was a bigger, more beautiful world outside the glass.

The goldfish was well-fed. But like all beautiful and fragile things, its life came to an end; its lifeless floated on the water one day. To comfort him, his mother bought him another goldfish that was an exact copy of the previous one. Yet in Alastor's eyes, the way their scales were arranged and combined was like the inside of a kaleidoscope. After being turned twice, the pattern was equally gorgeous, but completely different.

He thought of this and quickened his steps, and Lucifel followed far behind. To hide his plan, Alastor clung onto the cup, returning to the tavern as quickly as possible.

The tavern was empty at this hour. He climbed the steps and closed the door tightly. He only had a few seconds before hiding the flower tea in the drawer and closing it carefully.

"Alastor? Are you alright?" Lucifel suddenly opened the door. Just like before, he had no sense of distance.

Alastor was flustered for a moment. In a panic, he picked up a book from the bed, flipped to a random page, and lowered his head, pretending to read. At that precise moment, Lucifel closed the door behind him. He joined Alastor, sitting down so casually, as if it were his bed.

At this point, Alastor had already given up telling him to knock on the door and said instead, "What do you want from me?"

The soft mattress sank under Lucifel as he sat down, as if to bounce him up, "Are you angry?"

"No." Alastor looked at Lucifel over the words in the book, "Why won't you believe me?"

Lucifel was taken aback by the question and didn't speak.

"Nothing they said can stop me. I want to find Helel. Even if that god wouldn’t choose me- but I know he will - I’ll find a way to meet him in the cemetery."
Logically, Alastor knew that the three hunters so-called chosen by god were most likely all chosen by that High Priest: Gabriel. But since he saw Helel in the lake last night, his faith has been a little shaken. Maybe this town was really overshadowed by a mysterious and ancient presence, watching his every move and playing this game with him?

Lucifel lay down on Alastor's bed. He turned sideways to look at him, and the pink silver anemone on his head fell onto the sheets.

"I wish we grew up together..." When he opened his mouth again, he sounded as if he was about to fall asleep.

Alastor sat down beside him. "What makes you say that?"

"Then you won't want to look for Helel..." His eyes blinked slowly, "He is very peaceful and happy... Why would you want to disturb a hibernating animal?"

"Because midsummer is approaching, isn't it?" Alastor said, "And all children of god deserve to see the sun on that day, right? If Helel had truly died, according to your belief, then he would become part of nature and be freed. But if he’s still alive, god shouldn’t abandon him."

"Please tell me the truth, Alastor." Lucifel said, sinking his eyes to observe the pages of the book flipped by Alastor’s fingers, "What did you see in the lake last night?"

Alastor was silent for a few seconds, "I think it was Helel… "

"Or was it Lord God?"

Alastor signed, closing his book, and looked down at its title: "Paradise Lost." This book was very unique to him, as it was able to calm him down even after a long time. Lucifel leaned closer, his golden hair falling on the cover of the strange book. The movement drew Alastor’s attention to his back, where the clothes were hollow, and pink anemones bloomed on his porcelain-white back. He looked away and returned his attention to the book with some difficulty.

"Paradise …Lost…?" Lucifel spelled out these words with some difficulty, "What’s this book about?"

"Do you want to read it? I can lend it to you." Alastor was delighted to see that Lucifel was interested in something from the outside world.

Lucifel shook his head, "I don't know many words, so it should be difficult for me to read..."

Alastor leaned down towards Lucifel, his nostrils filled with the scent of anemones and daisies. Outside of the window, the sunlight gilded everything with a metallic shade, blinding every being with its glory. Lucifel's eyelashes were also stained with the shining light, and his golden eyes met his gaze under slightly trembling eyelashes. His eyes were like two suns, and his eyelashes were light rays. The colour was that of St.John Wort, as if the flowers had been placed in his sockets, conveying complex emotions to Alastor.

It would be unfortunate to waste the light of the midnight sun. So he picked up the book and said, "Let's go outside." He jumped out of bed. "I'll read it to you."

Lucifel smiled, he climbed up like a cat, and walked out of the tavern with Alastor. They walked down the path to the lake. The sun had reached its peak, leaving their silhouettes swaying in its brilliance. A willow tree stood on the shore, washing its slender leaves in the lake, and the lake water shimmered through the gaps between its leaves.

Alastor took Lucifel's hand and led him under the tree. The willow tree swayed in the breeze, sheltering them from others’ eyes and creating a world that belonged only to them. They sat down in the shade, under the cover of the willow tree, hidden from even God’s all-seeing eyes.

Lucifel hugged his knees and buried his face in his arms, only showing his smiling eyes as he looked at Alastor, who leaned against the tree and opened the book in his hand.

"The story is about..." He paused and thought for a moment, "a child of God who rebelled against His rule, committing the sin of tempting humans to follow free will." Although he chose his words carefully, his tone clearly favored that proud fallen angel. “He then transformed into a snake and tricked the first humans, Adam and Eve, into eating the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge. When God learned of their offense, He expelled them from the Garden of Eden. Since then, we have been plagued by childbirth, aging, sickness, and death..."

"Why would he do this?" Lucifel's voice was muffled by his sleeves, "Without childbirth, aging, sickness, and death, how can there be pain? Was it his intention to bring suffering to everyone?" The soft leaves and soil under him supported him, as if to coax him to sleep.

Alastor reflected on the question for a moment and said, "Let me read it to you then. Maybe his own words will let you understand it better."

His invitation delighted Lucifel, who quickly moved to Alastor's side. Even though he couldn't understand every word, he wanted to follow Alastor's gaze and fly through the ocean of verses.

“The mind is a place in itself, and inside it one
Can turn Heaven into Hell or Hell into Heaven.
Who cares where I am, if I’m still the same,
And why should I be any different just because He was made greater by force?
Here we will
Be free at least: God didn’t build this place for himself,
He won’t make us leave:
Here we shall rule undisturbed, and in my opinion,
To rule is something worth wanting, even in Hell:
It’s better to rule in Hell than be a servant in Heaven.
But why are we letting our trusty friends,
Our comrades and sharers in our loss,
Lie so shocked on the uncaring lake,
Why are we not calling them to take their place
In this cursed house, and telling them
To gather up their strength and see what might still
Be taken back from Heaven, or lost in Hell?”

After finishing his reading, Alastor looked at Lucifel, who was leaning on his shoulder with some anticipation. His expression seemed a little puzzled, and he slowly asked: "Why did this angel fight against God? Was it because God treated him badly? But from what he described, the place called Hell was a wasteland, so why did he continue to fight against God and make him unhappy?"

"Think about it, you’re a canary, and someone has locked you in a magnificent cage and given you plenty of food and water every day. But no matter how you flap your wings, your world is only so small. That's what the fallen angel thought; he wanted to fly freely and decide whether to stay or go. No matter what the final result is, at least he now lives by his own free will and is no one’s slave."

Alastor grew increasingly excited as he spoke. He was fascinated by this kind of character, unwilling to follow any rules, but had their own ideas. Just like Helel, Lucifel should be like this too, not shackled to any god, but be himself, open his eyes, and look at the vast world around him.

"Free will..." The light in Lucifel's eyes could only be rivaled by the stars, making Alastor look at him with surprise and joy. He was seriously contemplating something before meeting Alastor's equally eager gaze, and asked, "Do you think I’m free?"

Despite his eagerness, Alastor was silent, not knowing whether to speak his thoughts. In the small world built by willow branches, their hearts became wider than the blue sky.

"I..."

And just then, the bell rang. Three-quarters of an hour had passed; it was time for them to gather under the yellow triangular building and expose themselves to the eyes of god again.

Lucifel came back to his senses, and he shook his head. Like unveiling a piece of tender green cloth, he bent down to lift a corner of the willow branches.

"We should go." He suddenly remembered something and turned his head. "Oh, Alastor."

Alastor hadn’t yet recovered from the speech just now; the ripples in his heart couldn’t be calmed for a long time. "Hmm?" He responded vaguely.

"Does the fallen angel have a name?" he asked.

"... His name is Lucifer," Alastor replied half-mindedly.

Lucifel's eyes shone brighter, like the last stars bathed in the morning light. "Really? How similar it is to my name: Lucifel and Lucifer. How could such a coincidence happen in this world?" He repeated it over and over again, laughing.

A chill crept up Alastor's spine and onto the back of his neck. He swallowed, not knowing how to trace the origin of this strange feeling.

"Yes." His voice lost its warmth. "What a coincidence."

Lucifel smiled and quickly moved out of the shadows under the willow tree. The willow branches lingered on his hair, allowing a beam of sunlight to intrude into this small world. Detangling himself from the hair-like branches, Alastor saw with a shudder from the endless cold two bright goldfish plants by the dark lake, staring at them.