Alice in the Land of Steam

"Hmm, I'm full..."

Miss Angel patted her round little belly, a worry creeping into her heart. She'd eaten so much and didn't like exercising; would she gain weight? But the landlady's food was so delicious; it felt like a waste not to eat it. She envied Alice; she ate snacks constantly besides meals and loved to laze around in her room, yet she showed no signs of gaining weight. Ah, although the places where she should have gained weight hadn't changed at all…

“In that case,” Siesta, who was clearing away the dishes, seemed to read her mind and extended an invitation, “would you like to take a walk with me to digest your meal? How about we walk from here to the hotel? Perfect timing, everyone is quite worried about you, so go and show your face to put their minds at ease.”

That last sentence dispelled the last vestige of doubt in Miss Angel's mind, and she nodded gently and hummed in agreement.

Siesta carried the packed bamboo basket, with Ieta following behind her. The two walked slowly along the path between the fields towards the inn, its warm lights illuminating the distance. A gentle night breeze rustled through the lush primrose bushes, carrying a soft whisper and a faint scent of grass and trees. The starry sky remained brilliant; the band of light stretching across the heavens flowed silently like a luminous river, watching over the struggles and choices of the world.

Siesta's figure appeared exceptionally tall and straight under the starlight. The bamboo basket in her hands swayed gently, the utensils inside occasionally clinking softly like the whispers of the night. Ieta, on the other hand, hesitated. Her head was lowered, her gaze fixed on her moving toes, but her thoughts had already drifted to faraway places. The moon's shadow, stretched long by the gaps in the moonlight, was cast onto the ridges of the field, swaying gently with each step.

A one-winged feathered elf, wielding the fairy sword Hydras, ended the calamity of the evil dragon and god, bringing Atorica its first hope. Could such a great figure truly be connected to me? Or perhaps, all these so-called past and present lives are merely my own imagination, and the only connection between us is our race? But how can I explain the tremor and premonition I felt when facing the fairy sword Hydras?

Once the thought took hold, it coiled around her heart like vines, tightening its grip. She couldn't help but stop, look up, and gaze at her elder sister, the traveler fairy, walking ahead with an ever-unhurried pace.

“Miss Siesta,” Ieta’s voice was soft, at least no more noticeable than the breeze rustling through the leaves, “what kind of person is that hero… His Majesty Italos?”

Siesta heard it, and heard it very clearly.

She turned around, her skirt fluttering in the wind, revealing her small leather boots covered in grass clippings, neatly tucked together. She looked at Ietta with a peculiar gaze, and after a moment, she suddenly burst out laughing.

Ieta was startled and instinctively spread her wings, wrapping herself up completely except for her eyes, looking pitifully at the landlady: "Um, did I ask some strange question?"

"It is indeed quite strange."

Siesta suppressed a laugh and said seriously, "Although I am indeed familiar with the legend of Her Majesty Italos and the fairy sword Sidras, it is ultimately just a legend, separated from the present by a long period of ten thousand years. I have never had any contact with Her Majesty Italos, so how could I possibly know what kind of person she is?"

"Oops!" Ietta finally realized that she had done something stupid again.

“Only those who experienced it firsthand can answer this question, such as the second Fairy Queen, Lady Sidras.” Siesta’s smile faded slightly as she said softly, “But we who came after her are not entirely without ways to understand Her Majesty’s character. For example, we can glimpse her appearance from fragments of history and combine them with our own imagination.”

Imagination? Is that really reliable?

Ietta was slightly skeptical, but decided to believe it for the time being, and pressed on, "Then, in your imagination, what kind of person is His Majesty Italos?"

This time, the proprietress pondered for a longer time. Starlight filtered through the leaves, illuminating her beautiful face and highlighting her serene and composed demeanor. After a moment, she spoke, saying, "I think she must be a kind, brave, upright, fearless person who cherishes ideals and values ​​friendship."

These were all commonplace observations, things even Ietta herself could have come up with. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, having thought the landlady would have some more unique insights. But then, the landlady added a comment that truly surprised her: "Just like you, Ietta."

"Huh?" Ieta was stunned, her eyes widening slightly, wondering if she had misheard.

Same as me? No way.

Seeing her surprised expression, Siesta's smile deepened slightly, but there was no mockery in it. Instead, it was full of relief and seriousness: "I'm not joking with you, Ieta. I truly believe it from the bottom of my heart. Because you are also very brave and kind. If you possess all the qualities Your Majesty has, and you are even both Winged Elves, then why can't we say that you and Your Majesty are actually the same kind of people?"

“But,” Ieta pointed to herself, still somewhat incredulous, “am I really that brave?”

Throughout Ieta's life, she was always praised as well-behaved, kind, and beautiful, but the word "brave" was rarely heard. Therefore, the angel instinctively felt that it was a word completely incompatible with her. Moreover, her weak, pessimistic nature and tendency to retreat at the first sign of difficulty certainly hardly qualify her as brave.

"of course."

Siesta spoke with such certainty because she truly believed it: "When the spirits of Assyria in Paradise Country needed her, Your Majesty stepped forward to slay the evil dragon—that was courage; when the people of Grayhill needed you, you also stepped forward to fight the invaders—wasn't that also courage?"

Ieta's wings fluttered slightly, her feathers trembling in the wind, as if touched by words. Her toes unconsciously ground small pebbles, making a soft scraping sound, accompanied by her stammering voice: "This...this is different, isn't it?"

“What’s different?” Siesta asked back.

"Because...because Your Majesty is merely a one-winged, weak winged elf, while I am the Maiden of Power, possessing the inherent power to control the wind and the cloud whale sky island. It's called courage for the weak to stand up against the strong; but shouldn't it be considered an innate responsibility for the strong to help the weak? Therefore, I believe Your Majesty's courage is true courage, while I..." I only dared to step onto the battlefield because I possessed the power of the Maiden of Power. Putting myself in Her Majesty's shoes, even if she were just a one-winged winged elf without the fairy sword Hydras's assistance, wouldn't she also bravely stand up and fight for the people of Grayhill? But if I lost the power of the Maiden of Power, would I still have the courage to slay the evil dragon? Ieta wasn't sure, or rather, she lacked confidence.

"So that's what you think..."

Siesta seemed to be deep in thought. She carefully examined the complex expression on Ietta's face, a mixture of unease, confusion, and self-doubt, as if she could see through all the turmoil in Ietta's heart. So she spoke, cutting to the chase: "I think you may just be too concerned about your relationship with His Majesty, and have neglected what is truly important."

"...Is that so?" Ieta asked, still confused.

"Isn't that so?" Siesta laughed. "Although we're both Winged Elves, no one expects you to become a hero as great as Her Majesty, right? It's just a requirement you impose on yourself. And why do you take Her Majesty as your standard? Isn't it because subconsciously you feel a deep connection with Her Majesty, or even that Her Majesty is your past life? If they were completely unrelated, why would you care so much about comparing the two? But, Ieta, don't forget, if Her Majesty really is your past life, then she must have been a young queen, not the kind of naturally weak but courageous woman you described. Of course, I don't mean to belittle Her Majesty's deeds, I just think you don't need to be so hard on yourself. Even if we consider another possibility, that Her Majesty isn't your past life, and she did slay a dragon as a mortal, who can deny your efforts because of her deeds? This world isn't a math problem; just because Her Majesty's answer is right doesn't mean yours is wrong. Courage has different definitions in different times, different environments, and even different people."

Ietta listened, somewhat confused yet seemingly understanding. She roughly grasped the landlady's meaning, but some lingering doubts remained in her mind, perhaps the culprit behind her strange behavior tonight.

“So,” she couldn’t help but murmur, “what exactly is my relationship with His Majesty?”

“If you’re really curious,” Siesta said slowly, “why not go and meet her?”

Miss Angel tilted her head: "How do we meet?"

We're from ten thousand years ago, we can't possibly meet her in our dreams...wait?

Ieta slowly realized that there seemed to be someone on the island whose royal power could help her see her past life in her dreams. Although the effects were somewhat random, the duration uncertain, and the impressions a bit vague, it was still a possibility. If she could see the great one-winged hero, His Majesty Italos, in her dreams, wouldn't she be able to verify the truth and get the answers she wanted?

To be honest, Ieta was somewhat conflicted about the answer. She hoped that His Majesty was her past life, but she also felt that it was fine if he wasn't. On the one hand, this was called being overly cautious; on the other hand, it could be seen as a kind of open-mindedness. In any case, as long as she had a calm mindset, she could accept it.

"It seems you've figured it out, Ieta."

Siesta gently took Ieta's hand. The girl's fingertips were slightly cool, but they gradually warmed as they were enveloped in Siesta's palm. The path stretched ahead, the hotel lights guiding the way like lighthouses. She led her forward slowly, saying as they walked, "Try asking her. Although that child seems a bit cold and unapproachable, she's actually surprisingly soft-hearted. If all else fails, try sweet-talking her; maybe she'll agree."

Because of her words, Ietta couldn't help but picture that scene in her mind, and then she shuddered.

Should I act cute towards Bai Ye?

What a strange feeling.

Like a mouse begging a cat, though she didn't know why she used such a metaphor. Was Bai Ye like a cat? While she was indeed aloof like a cat, cats occasionally begged for affection, but Bai Ye never did, right? Ietta found it hard to imagine such a scene. If she had to describe her, perhaps she was like a snow leopard? Always solitary on the snowy mountains, keeping her distance from interpersonal relationships; or like a falcon, always soaring high in the sky, overlooking the mortal world.

So, she did indeed keep a grey falcon named Shiro. Although Shiro repeatedly claimed that Gloria insisted on keeping it, Shiro was the one who took care of it most of the time. So perhaps she saw something similar to herself in it? But the grey falcon can also be affectionate. It often perches on Shiro's head and rubs its feathers against her hair. Every time this happens, Shiro always looks helpless and annoyed, but she never stops it. Is she actually happy inside?

The girl's thoughts drifted away, her gaze settling on the crescent moon in the sky. The crescent, like a hook, evoked countless memories. She didn't notice that the wings behind her were unconsciously mimicking the preening motion of a bird, fluttering gently. Although the angel possessed so many wings, she was actually more accustomed to walking on the ground. Perhaps subconsciously, she felt that flying would attract too much attention and expose her to the public eye.

So she doesn't seem like a feathered elf at all. Real feathered elves would love to possess the entire sky, and the supposedly magnificent Sky City is proof of that.

Some people say that birds will forget how to fly if they always land on the ground, but no one ever says that birds will be injured by storms if they fly too high.

Is it because the former is instinct, while the latter is desire?

People tend to ignore instincts and affirm desires.

Wanting to know about one's past life is a desire, wanting to connect with a hero is a desire, perhaps wanting to act cute with others is also a desire... It's so complicated.

Ieta couldn't understand so many complicated emotions. After all, she had only ever acted coquettishly towards two people: Ling and, of course, Sister Xia. Even the landlady and Sister Ovira hadn't received such treatment. Sadly, Sister Xia was gone, and even though Ling would occasionally come to chat with her after she left, and the two would sit together on the steps of the windmill tower, enjoying the sunset and primroses, somehow, looking at that quiet and lonely young man, the angel could no longer muster the courage to act coquettishly towards him.

Isn't this world constantly changing? Changing without reason, capriciously, and arbitrarily, just like a little child.

It's a little sad. (End of Chapter)