Chapter 450 Planets and Planets
Unlike the planet Sivers that once belonged to Silversmith, the planet Ishtar is located at the other pole on the human habitability table - if we must use millennia to divide where they are period, which is likely to be the second human millennium, and the population density here exactly matches this year.
The dark blue tint on the outer layer is nothing more than some kind of veil-like psychic shielding - it blocks prying eyes from thousands of miles away, unless the observer has a clear goal and extraordinary abilities. Looking out from inside the atmosphere, the sky in Ishtar is whitening due to the cold.
It might be an hour on the hour, and a bell swayed faintly from the town where they landed, frozen and brittle by the seasonal temperature.
Morse heard the wheels bumping over the ice crystals formed in the potholes in the road, and the sound of the wooden spokes squeaking under the weight themselves. Two bright blue ribbons were tied to the hay cart. . There was a family quarreling in the house, plates and bowls clattering, and the family next to them was practicing the music of the triangle, and a violin that was out of tune due to the cold air was being tuned. The air smelled of firewood and cigars, and the unmistakable smell of livestock. A wealthy family lived on the outside, and those rose-colored lampshades reflected an unusual elegance through the glass windows, containing the essence of all systems and politeness condensed on the surface.
The town was so invisibly occupied by its residents themselves and the space they needed to live that Morse and Perturabo felt like they were being squeezed in from the outside world.
They did receive corresponding treatment. The weather was cold and there were not many people on the street, but everyone was curious about their existence.
Children wearing homespun clothes bought or sewn at home looked up at them. They were also playing with a crudely made wooden doll in their hands - the body and arms were on one side, and the head and legs were broken. , let another child hold it.
Their wet nurses or neighbors - because the skin of children is not the same color as that of adult women - also looked up at Perturabo, hugged the two children in her thin-framed arms, and used An expression of surprise broke her quiet concern for the children.
Soon after, a child timidly asked: "Aren't uncles cold?"
The language he used came from ancient Terra, and fortunately both the primarch and the craftsmen happened to have reasons that they could understand.
Morse and Perturabo looked at each other's attire. One was wearing a thin black robe, and the other was wearing a sleeveless white robe. White mist floated in the air when Perturabo breathed. inside.
The woman asked: "Where are you from?"
"You probably don't know where it is," Morse said, "Lokos is also a big place, not far from here. Very far.”
“In a foreign country?”
"Not in your country." Perturabo lowered his voice, squatted down slightly, and took the doll and its parts from the child's hands, "Does it need to be repaired?"
The children clicked one after another. Nodding, the child spoke again: "Your accent is really weird, big brother."
"They called you two hundred years younger," Morse said, handing it to Pettu from his sleeve. Labo a knife.
The Iron Lord easily re-joined the wooden doll's joints, even though the doll itself was not as long as one of his fingers.
He made a set of movable joints and returned the doll to the children. The two children looked at each other. The woman took the doll and handed it to one of the older children: "Don't break it again. Thank you two big brothers."
They were thanked by the children, who then ran away.
The woman watched them hide under a low shed covered with an old blanket and not go far, then turned back, wiped her hands on her apron, and smiled at Perturabo, who had squatted down much lower. She got up and deliberately slowed down her speaking speed, worried that the two strangers in front of her could not hear clearly: "Can I help you?"
"We heard that there are some old friends living here. "It was a long time ago," Morse said. "The elders had some quarrels, and it was only after many years that we felt that we could no longer keep in contact with each other."
The woman seemed to understand something, and her eyes changed. Look at the two outsiders.
She looked at their faces, and the focus of her observation gradually shifted to Perturabo, as if she wanted to read some familiar lines or recognizable outlines from that tall face.
"Yes, how can there be so many people of the same height and strength?" she said.
"Tell us?" Morse asked, leaning against a red brick wall familiarly, "I'm very grateful, really."
After arriving in the town Previously, his psychic energy had carefully swept through the entire planet, which was dominated by a peaceful environment. Only a few places were covered in fog, and one place that Morse could not clearly detect had already proved to itself that it was strange.
They visited three towns one after another, and two of them said they remembered a tall woman and the snakes and sons she raised. Sometimes an old man dressed in a gentle manner would also go, with a string hanging on his waist. Distinctive silver key. But for those two places, one said that their appearance was at least fifty years ago, and the other said that it was an old thing twenty years ago.
"Oh, I have nothing to thank. Everyone you ask will get the same answer," the woman said, taking two steps towards the two children she was carrying and watching them study on the spot. Florals on the blanket, tone softened. "They draw attention to themselves."
"Three or four years ago, a very tall woman came over with her taller child, talked to the owner of the house on the east side for a few words, and then bought his house. She was always wrapped in a blue cloth, Perhaps she has more than one dress, for no one has ever seen her cloth fade. The child is as tall as you," she said to Perturabo, "but the woman always looks at him, and looks anxious when he leaves. If you want to find her in person, then look for her son, you can always see her around.
"In the first week here, they held a dance at the manor and invited us all there. Her son was familiar to everyone. He was easy to talk to and didn't speak much, but he was always very humble and a bit mysterious. She stood on the second floor and looked down, her hands folded together, gloomy and silent, which made people feel as cold as the wind on the back of their necks. Then Serpenter took Erda back into the room, and then came back down to ask the waiter to light the fire hotter. There was something peculiar in his tone, and he did so with great pleasure. "
"Serpent? "
"The name his mother gave him, but he doesn't use it himself. He called himself "Eleven", which we thought didn't sound like a name. Only a few young people were willing to call him that in private. "The woman said, and gradually, more memories emerged from her heart. And Morse could cross the boundaries of language and directly see the images floating in her mind.
He saw Erda, Sitting upright and quietly in a high-backed chair, the blue headscarf hiding the psychic deflection function framed a face as tight as sandalwood. One hand was placed on the table, with a lamp placed on the table. . For a while she remained motionless, and then she spoke, her voice soft and as pure as her eyes.
"I know you can accomplish it," she said. "Although you bleed his blood, you don't have his arrogance. It's easy to detect his ambition, but it's hard to question him..."
Local The woman's voice became louder again, filling the gap in her thoughts, "Serpenter kept a snake, but no one has seen it. There must be some hissing noises there. Serpente himself admitted it vaguely, and Erda denied it. Very determined, when she came to the market..."
Morse's memory of seeing the local woman was filled with a layer of mist, which was the mist blowing up from the glass windows, on a snowy day It was hazy inside and outside, and two tall men walked side by side through the night streets alone, speaking some inaudible words. Morse read out the words, "You need to change your cufflinks," Erda said, "Change into a thick waistcoat to match your coat, you-"
"I don't need them."
"You are his son. You can't wear old clothes all the time. You also have to take care of your manor. This is very easy for you."
"I'm a snake," said No. 11. "Snakes don't need to wear silk clothes." They walked far into the snowy night streets, and even the farthest lights couldn't illuminate their backs. The local woman Coming back from the cold window, I added a piece of pumpkin to the soup on the stove, then the next piece, and cooked it into a pot of warm, melting yellow stuff. She put on a pair of insulated gloves padded with several layers of cotton and cloth.
"It's on the east side of town, right?" Perturabo asked, his expression showing no emotion, he showed restraint.
"Yes, but they left town a few days ago, but the house has not been vacated. They may come back."
"Let's go take a look. Thank you, madam."
The local woman hesitated to speak, as if she wanted to advise or comment, but finally shook her head. "I think... you should probably meet them."
——
Lorgar Aurelion sat down carefully on a row of chairs at the front of the chapel, It was the only place where he could rest his legs.
He holds two bunches of wisteria in his right hand, and a wreath of wild flowers surrounds his golden head. The long spring branches with some resilience have determined its shape. These were all picked by the locals for him in the morning when the dew was still wet. Lorgar could only dry and bake the old dried flowers before giving them to his priests.
When he first arrived, he carefully tested the beliefs of the locals, fearing that the consequences of Erebus would happen again - he still did not let the poisonous snake die. This was one of the few Lorgar could not convince himself. A matter of tolerance; he hoped that the poisonous snake would struggle in purgatory as long as possible, just like those who have the truth will still flog themselves every day.
The answer pleased him: the people of Asime really believed in the Emperor himself from Terra, followed His principles devoutly, and respected Him himself, rather than some false idol that deceived the world.
Logar was always very happy when he saw these people living in peace and happiness. He only felt that nothing could soothe his soul more than the innocent joy of His children.
There was only one little thing that always bothered him. There is one thing the natives do that is not right, and even that is not a big mistake in principle, but simply the result of a lack of correct guidance.
"I told you, brothers and sisters."
He softened his tone very gently, knowing that the words of a primarch completely letting go were loud enough to make the fragile hearts of mortals feel Discomfort.
"Don't always intentionally ask Him for too many answers. We can't be that false empty shell, just waiting for His brilliance to fill us."
He pulled the man next to him. The palm of a mortal led him to sit next to him. "Tell me, why do we always try to prophesy in His name?"
"The Emperor will guide our direction, Aurelion," the mortal raised his head and said sincerely, "We always When we don’t know where to go, only the Emperor protects us. We are in His love.”
Logar shook his head slightly: “You are immersed in His selfless love, Bondo. "
"Is this optional?" Bondo asked.
"This is what you should do, but it is not the only thing you should do." Luojia said helplessly, "It is good and correct for you to seek guidance from Him, but how can you only ask Him for guidance? He gives us love, what do we give Him in return?"
"Enlighten me, Aurelion."
"This is understandable, Bondo. , like father and mother; we serve Him like sons and daughters.”
“When we were very confused in our childhood, He led us forward; when we grow up, we also need to give back. We must do our best to glorify Him and offer Him all the help we can. Otherwise, aren’t we just like those young children who are crying for food and have no intention of thinking about giving back and feeding back? Are we not coveting what He gives us? Instead of learning to love Himself?"
Bondo frowned, thinking deeply about Lorgar's words, "So, how should we give back to Him?"
Luojia smiled and nodded, and continued: "He has told us long ago: to find out what is God's good, pure, and pleasing will. Everyone must bear his own burden; he who cultivates his own field will be fed. "Those who follow vanity are ignorant. Determine to be quiet people, do your own business, and work with your own hands, so that you can behave well to others, and you will not lack anything."
"We must be ourselves." "
"His voice guides us in these things, and we must also give back to Him in our responsibilities, instead of not knowing where we are going and often losing confidence and Wisdom, 'Wisdom is the first, and he who gets understanding is blessed'"
Another female believer came to him and sat down beside him. Lorgar made room for her in some chairs and smiled at her.
“Aurelion, are you saying: If our hearts are toward Him, His guidance will be given to us. Unless we can’t feel Him, we have to find Him artificially? ”
Aurelion's smile widened.
“Yes, if we use questions to pray, the questions must first be intentionally solved by ourselves, rather than just sitting there and waiting for His love to be selflessly given to us.”
"Then..." The female believer hesitated for a while, and Aurelion waited patiently, looking at her sincerely, silently encouraging her to speak out.
“What if He spreads love to us and delivers prophecy to us?”
“That’s enlightenment,” Aurelion said happily, “that’s what He wants What you hear and see for Him is what He trusts you to do for Him, can you share it with me, Rivka?”
"Of course," Rifka nodded, "I-I saw His light, and then I heard your brother's voice, Aurelion. I knew it was your brother, but I didn't know who it was..."
"Tell me what you heard."
"I heard...I heard him say that my father will come to an end."
Luo Jia's eyes changed slightly. .
(End of this chapter)