Alice in the Land of Steam

Chapter 1344 Is a smile the end of the journey?
“I’m a little sleepy, Linger…” she said softly, her voice slightly murmured.

"Don't close your eyes, Saint Charlotte," a gentle voice whispered in her ear.

"why?"

She asked the other person, "I just want to take a nap."

"Because now is not the time to rest, you have more important things to do."

She shook her head: "I don't have anything to do."

The path she was meant to walk had been walked, the duty she was meant to fulfill had been done, and from now on, her story would naturally be passed down through generations. Therefore, she felt that she had no regrets and could peacefully enter her dreams, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility.

but.

What will you do on your journey?

The gentle voice turned sorrowful, the rustling of the grass sounding like raindrops hitting the ground—a rain from many years ago, when they had taken shelter under a tree, listening to the rain pierce their hearts, a sound that had continued to fall until now: "Didn't you say you wanted to find your sisters and bring them back to that distant, warm homeland? You said that fate in this world is inevitable; as you pursue it, it also pursues you. Only those who are not afraid of hardship and move forward with unwavering determination can be favored by fate and realize their ideals. You even invited me to go with you; I promised you, but have you forgotten?"

“I haven’t forgotten.” She smiled softly, but the smile was faint. “But I’ve reached the end. This journey is over.”

Is this your final destination?

"kindness."

"too close."

Too close to my hometown, too close to my longing, too close to those memories that should have been forgotten.

The world turns on a giant wheel, and the things attached to the wheel always repeat themselves, while the tracks left behind always move forward. He and she are both insignificant specks of dust on the wheel. Because the wheel keeps moving forward and the world keeps moving forward, they seem to be chasing each other's shadows. If only they could keep chasing like this forever.

"You said you wanted to stop the sad stories and keep the beautiful ones." The voice was even sadder, weaker than the whisper of the wind: "If that's the case, why stop here? Stand up, let's move on."

This time, I won't refuse you again. I will always be with you. We'll walk through mountains, rivers, forests, and grasslands, experiencing all the scenery of this land. If you get tired and want to stay for a while, I can stay here and wait for you, but please don't stay too long, because that will make me feel... the distance between us is getting farther and farther, and eventually we will be unable to touch each other.

I don't want to leave you again.

The blue-haired girl didn't answer, but suddenly felt a sharp pang in her heart, a pain so slight it felt more intense than the claws of fate from long ago. Her breathing grew weaker, everything before her shrouded in a hazy light, indistinct and unclear. She raised her head, her tranquil gaze searching for a shadow of her past in the gaps of sunlight—the girl who had quietly awakened from the apple tree's season-long slumber, gradually understanding the meaning of her existence through the passage of time. She longed to return to her hometown, to nestle once more beside her mother and sisters, to continue the story she had told under the apple tree, a story whose ending she had never found. But after wandering and toiling for so long, she always found herself caught in a cycle of failure and loneliness. Sometimes she closed her eyes and felt utterly exhausted; sometimes she opened them and felt utterly alienated. Was it all worth it?

Scenes flashed before my eyes: the bewilderment at the world and myself upon waking in the embrace of the apple trees; the irrepressible curiosity and longing for another world during the long, lonely life; the surprise and fear upon leaving the apple orchard for the first time and seeing a human village unfold before my eyes; the grievance and helplessness when questioned and ridiculed by the villagers who had searched for the apple orchard in vain, and labeled as a liar and a witch; the joy of becoming the owner of the lambs, having gained my first friend and my first companion on the journey; the changed state of mind when bidding farewell to the apple orchard and the human village and embarking on the journey again, vaguely foreseeing my future; the gradual silence of my heart after the long journey, occasionally feeling longing in the quiet of the night, yet not knowing who I was longing for; traveling with the Moria tribe, hearing about destiny from the old shaman. Upon hearing those two words, she suddenly felt an unprecedented urge to approach them and understand them; following the old wizard to learn the magic of the Moria people, becoming his only baptist before his death, his resentful yet loving gaze and a prophecy whose meaning she still couldn't understand seemed to open another destined journey for her; detached from the world, she vainly searched for the golden apple in the prophecy, the harder she tried, the more she hesitated, even to the point of despairing and wanting to give up on this journey; until she saw a city shrouded in tears and smog walking towards her, in the bustling square, in the tide of people flowing against the current, she caught a glimpse of the young man's back, a strange yet familiar aura... In the last period of her life, Saint Charlotte found that she no longer thought about that prophecy all the time, because she suddenly realized that what it foretold was not the future, but the past.

The past is far more beautiful than the future, possessing a power to move people's hearts. If a person seeks meaning in life, they will move towards the distant future; but if a person is dying, then perhaps sleeping in the dreams of the past is a better choice.

So this is the end of her journey.

“…I’m sleepy, Ringo.”

She whispered, slowly closing her eyes and letting her drooping eyelids block out the last ray of light, murmuring, "Let me sleep for a while, and then we'll travel together after I wake up."

"Will you keep your promise, Saint Charlotte?"

"Most definitely."

"...Then I'll wait for you here."

"kindness."

Having made the promise, she could finally sleep peacefully, letting her thoughts sink into the boundless yet exceptionally warm darkness, as if it were not a silent ocean, but rather every quiet night she had experienced during her journey, by the embers of the campfire, where she had made a bed of leaves and snuggled up with her lamb, falling into a deep sleep, just like back then.

But before falling asleep, she suddenly remembered that she had one last question that she hadn't had time to ask the young man.

"Son of man who ate the golden apple, this journey, in your heart—"

Is this satisfactory to you?

Yes, I am very satisfied.

There could be no more satisfying journey. Having received his affirmative reply, Saint Charlotte could finally close her eyes in peace and drift off to sleep. But the young man didn't actually answer; he was too grief-stricken to utter a single word, yet he still forced himself to smooth the sorrow from the girl's brow. This pure heart had always been battered by the storms of the outside world, but it always responded to others with a warm smile, only showing a hint of sorrow at the very last moment of its life. But perhaps it wasn't for itself, but for those who still deeply loved her. She had never forgotten her mission in this world. Perhaps when she closed her eyes, she would recall the people and landscapes that had haunted her dreams, without regret, simply smiling softly and saying, "See you next time."

We will meet again. She will be quietly waiting in the sea of ​​light in the heavens for her next return to earth. For her memory, it has come to an end. But for her soul, this eternal journey has just begun.

A mournful song drifted from afar. At the moment the girl died, the world she had altered immediately resumed its flow. Stagnant streams murmured, frozen clouds drifted slowly, and birds suspended in the air took flight. The mortals living on the earth, unaware that their fate had been led down a different path, were oblivious to the fact that the girl who had so gently guided them had now returned to the stars, in long, lonely solitude. At this moment, countless people in the world felt sorrow. Was their sorrow the same as the sorrow of the young? Or different? Was it greater? Or insignificant?

In the wilderness, the shepherd drove his flock of sheep, scattered like gray clouds across the meadow. Standing atop a hill overgrown with shrubs, he gazed into the distance. Perhaps touched by an inexplicable sadness, he slowly began to sing a melancholy song—

My dear girl
Why did you leave and never return?
You now,

You should stay by my side.

Let me tell you our story from the past.

My dear girl
Why did you leave and never return?
You now,

New information should be sent back.

Tell me how you've been lately.

Have we achieved our initial dream?

Have the promises made at that time been fulfilled?

Have you found a boy who loves you and said sweet words to him?
Where is the fruit of your love waiting for you?

So, my dear girl—

Why did you leave and never return?
……

The horse's hooves landed silently on the grass, treading on the soft green grass with almost no sound. Brandy raised her head in confusion, as if asking her master: Is someone singing?
Hino didn't answer, but stared blankly in the direction from which the song came, her fingers tightening unconsciously around the reins, her knuckles turning slightly white. She saw a patch of bright, hazy sunlight streaming down, its light stinging her eyes slightly. She instinctively squinted, shielding her brow with her hand. Through this light, she saw the blue-haired girl leaning quietly on the young man's shoulder, her eyes slightly closed, her expression serene and tranquil, as if immersed in a long, timeless dream. The vast expanse of light seemed to be there just for her, bathing her hair, her eyelashes, every melancholic yet endearing detail in a shimmering gold.

The young man held the girl so tenderly, as if he were holding the most precious and fragile thing in the world. Her silver hair, bathed in the golden sunlight, gently scattered fragments of light as it fell. The scene was so harmonious that one couldn't bear to break it.

Xinuo stood frozen, suddenly at a loss. She opened her mouth, her lips moving silently a few times, wanting to say something to the young man, even just a meaningless "I'm sorry," but ultimately no sound came out. Who could know why she was apologizing? To whom was she apologizing? And should she even have apologized? At this moment, countless people in the world were feeling sorrow, but their sorrow could not compare to that of the young man who had lost what was most important to him, for he was so vulnerable, as if he had just come to realize the cruelty of this world.

All words froze on her tongue, sinking heavily back into her heart. Language was pale and superfluous at this moment, leaving the young knight standing like an awkward intruder, frozen on the grass shrouded in both sunlight and death, utterly helpless. Brandy snorted softly, nuzzling Hino's arm with its damp nose, a mixture of animalistic confusion and unease. It seemed to sense the heavy sorrow permeating the air as well.

As a warhorse of the Gostaff family, it wasn't unfamiliar with death, but most of it was tragic or gruesome, always accompanied by neighing, flashing blades, blood, and dust, to the point that it had no concept of quiet death. In Brandy's mind, that gentle and serene blue-haired girl was probably just like someone asleep, who would soon open her eyes, wake up, and smile as she said, "Good morning."

This may explain why death is not a fact, but a subjective perception.

At this moment, the young man, who had been keeping his head bowed as if to pour all his weight onto the girl in his arms, stirred slightly. Just moments before, he had seemed detached from the world of emotions, merely a description in a storybook or a scene in a stage play—a symbolic figure. Only when external forces intervened in the story did he finally regain his senses.

He slowly raised his head, his face, which always carried a hint of aloofness and calmness, as if isolated from all the intense emotions of the world, now gazing serenely at the young female knight on horseback. Sunlight streamed unreservedly onto his face, illuminating the subtle, almost invisible glints on his eyelashes.

Hino's heart skipped a beat.

She was certain she had seen it.

This young man, who came from the coldest continent in the world, from the coldest land on the continent, from the saddest city on the earth, never felt pain or confusion.

Right now, I'm crying.

……

Outside the Fairy Sleep Inn, the little lamb held in Leticia's arms diligently ate the last piece of apple, then looked up and bleated, gazing expectantly at the people around it. Everyone unconsciously avoided its gaze, except for the landlady, Siesta, who remained unfazed, smiling as she patted its head: "Good little lamb, keep being a good boy."

"Xia will definitely praise you when she comes back."

Upon hearing this, the little lamb happily rubbed its head against Siesta's palm and bleated twice.

Despite the sadness in its heart, it decided to smile, because it knew that... a smile was the destination and meaning of the journey.

Give me some cats