Industrial Cthulhu, starting from the island lord

Chapter 526 Grisha's Letter

Grisha lay on the table, holding the pen somewhat awkwardly, carefully spelling out words on the paper.

His expression was solemn, almost pious.

"Gwen, this is Grisha. This is my first time writing a letter."

"Castel has been here for a month now, attending literacy classes. He's learned many words and made many friends."

"Literacy classes are good, friends, and good too."

I like it here.

Grisha lifted the pen tip, a silly smile spreading across his face. It took him a while to come to his senses. He dipped the pen tip in the ink bottle and continued writing.

"Blood Harbor is vast, Castells is vast too, with steel ships, iron roads, and steam engines that curse."

"When they first arrived here, many people fainted from fright. They were terrified by the sight of steel, churches, and even the star furnace."

Grisha didn't understand.

"They say Grisha doesn't understand, so it's okay; they've seen too much of the world, so they can't believe it."

Grisha didn't understand this sentence either.

"Thankfully, everyone has recovered. That's it."

"Uncle Wood has gone mad. For a long time, Lady Nini, it took two hands, even more, to hold him down."

Actually, Uncle Wood wasn't the only one who went mad. Grisha really wanted to write down the specifics, but describing those bizarre appearances in words was quite difficult, especially given Grisha's limited vocabulary.

The nurse had told him it was some kind of Castells disease, a word that was quite difficult to pronounce, and Grisha had forgotten it.

There was another doctor who told him to chant Lord Hughes's name when he couldn't hold on any longer, and he remembered that. But Grisha didn't understand what "when he couldn't hold on any longer" meant. He didn't feel that there was a time when he needed to force himself to hold on. It was the other wounded soldiers with him who often went crazy.

Grisha lowered his head again, but his train of thought was interrupted. He stared blankly for a while with the dip pen in his hand, then his gaze fell on the "Nini" he had just written, and a smile appeared on his face again.

"Lady Nini was very kind; she took Grisha to see the sharks, but the sharks weren't good; they died."

Grisha wants to see sharks, and Gwen too.

"The sea is vast and blue, filled with countless shipwrecks, piled high everywhere."

"The shipwreck can talk," they said. "No one heard it, but Grisha heard it."

Grisha liked to be by the sea, talking to shipwrecks and the ocean.

Grisha had never seen the sea, not even in the North.

"In Blood Harbor, in Castells, Grisha ate very well every day."

"There's a food called French fries, it's so delicious, so very delicious, so incredibly tasty."

Grisha recalled the day he first arrived in Castel and the scene of sharing fries with everyone in the carriage, and his nose tingled with emotion again.

It's a wonderful thing, but tears still keep falling.

He would think of his comrades who died on the road, and his friends who fell in the final battle.

"In Castel, my friend, we'll be together for a very long time; in the North, my friend, we'll be gone in the blink of an eye."

Grisha, I can't forget my friends, no matter what, I can't forget them.

"I never imagined I would survive and grow up. I never imagined I would have a home after leaving the North."

"The White Crow people have lost their bone-white crows, lost their homeland, and lost themselves."

"I should have died, like wild sow thistle, the wild sow thistle that dies every year in the northern fields."

"Hello friends, Grisha is not well, but all my friends are gone, Grisha." A tear soaked the letter, and Grisha quickly wiped it with his sleeve. Looking at the slight wrinkles, a look of annoyance appeared on his face, and he hit his head hard.

This is a letter I wrote to my sister Gwen. I prepared it very carefully and seriously.

"Castel is very good."

"Everyone in the resistance says this is heaven, but Grisha doesn't understand."

"But Grisha likes it here."

"Castel, everyone can read, everyone can eat, and every child can grow up."

"Work hard, and you can eat fries."

There was no war, no white plague, no noble whips or scimitars.

"They helped Grisha get a new, steel prosthetic leg."

Grisha has new legs!

"Grisha loves it here. This land is wonderful, the people are wonderful, and the friends in the sea are wonderful too. Grisha has made many new friends, and he's willing to stay here for the rest of his life."

Grisha grinned foolishly again, and carefully stomped his foot on the ground, producing a crisp metallic sound.

He felt happier than ever before. Everything here was wonderful, almost unreal. In the North, Grisha had never imagined that such a bountiful place existed, or that its inhabitants would be so friendly. Instead of swords and knives, they faced fries tossed into the carriage.

Perhaps this really is heaven, a heaven he dared not even dream of in his most beautiful dreams.

But he was about to leave this heavenly kingdom.

Grisha wrote on the letter with trembling hands.

"Gwen, Grisha wants to return to the North."

"In the North, there are my people, my friends, and my fallen friends."

Grisha wants revenge for them.

"Grisha, with your new legs, you can charge again."

"Uncle Wood, Brother Rick, Sister Hela, everyone wants to go back to the North, back to the battlefield."

"Castel, good, this is home, but Grisha, it's time to leave."

"By the time you read this letter, I will have boarded the train to the North."

Grisha.

The boy solemnly wrote his name, then placed the pen aside, carefully picked up the letter, and waited for the ink to dry.

This was a very important letter; it was the first and perhaps the last one he wrote after he learned to read, and he wanted to try his best to write it well.

Grisha waited quietly for a long time, until it was completely dark and late at night.

He carefully folded the letter, put it into a specially prepared envelope, and solemnly placed it under his pillow.

This is the dormitory assigned to him. He has already folded the quilt and carefully swept the floor inside the room.

Looking at the tidy room, he nodded, put the key on the table, and walked out of the room without locking it.

He glanced into the distance; that was the direction of Blood Harbor. He knew that there were trains heading to the North there, which could take him away from this dreamlike place and back to the desolate, bloody battlefield of the North.

His eyes shone with a deep blue light, like surging seawater.

Without hesitation, Grisha left the dormitory and walked into the night without looking back.

(End of this chapter)