Mage Legend-Chapter 407: Travel and Travel Beyond Travel - Thirteen Rainy Night_2

Lynch closed his eyes and sank into meditation, not continuing the discussion on this topic.

When night fell, the news of Mage Lynch’s arrival in Heather spread throughout the Elf Holy Mountain. In the elves’ long lives, they always cherish memories that can be preserved for a long time, and friendship is one of them. Many years ago, Mage Lynch had already befriended these elves, so being able to reunite was naturally a joyful thing.

Visitors to Salantir are few, and those who can enter Heather are even fewer. Those bards scattered across the Anriel Continent, if they could see this Holy Mountain from afar, would be endlessly inspired to create beautiful poems. If these romantic poets were allowed into Heather, they might even agree to exchange fifty years of life. Even elves, who equally love beautiful music, do not easily allow others into this woodland, let alone outsiders. Lynch was only able to enter this land after helping the Elf Clan with a lot of work. As a rare visitor, the mage’s arrival was something that made all elves happy.

That night, quite a few elves came to visit. However, since Lynch had closed the curtain and did not lift it, no visitors entered the room. Though there was no door here, and one could freely come and go with a light raise of the hand, the closed curtain indicated that the host needed rest and should not be disturbed. The visiting elves left a few fruits they had picked at the door to show they had been there, then quietly turned and left. They had endless life to spend, so a brief wait was nothing.

In this way, the happiest was little Soka. She listened intently to the footsteps outside, and as soon as the visiting elves left, she would stealthily stretch out her hand from beside the curtain to quickly grab a fruit, happily devouring it inside the room.

The elves lit up their rooms with lights, and the special candles emitted silvery-white light, the color of the bright moon in the sky, but flickering like starlight. These candles’ light adorned the entire Holy Land like beautiful stars hanging in the dense forest. And as the night fell, the elves’ palaces turned moonlight white. Heather transformed completely into another night sky, another world.

Fine rain began to fall from the sky, the thread-like raindrops pitter-pattering on the leaves. The elves’ songs emerged in the rainy night, as they sang in praise of the rain that nourished everything. The rhythm of the music combined with the sound of the falling rain, not weakening but able to travel far. The entire Elf Kingdom could hear the song emanating from here, and any place with rain would not be overlooked. Even residents on the border of Salantir could vaguely enjoy this beautiful melody in the tranquil depths of night. They called it the "Elves’ Rainy Night Prayer."

The three people in the room were all quietly listening to the song from outside, a kind of marvelous music that didn’t require understanding the Elf Language to appreciate. With an apple in her mouth, Soka forgot to chew completely immersed in the outside melody; Zilvra closed her eyes, motionless, and no one knew where her thoughts drifted.

As the moon climbed higher, the music gradually faded, disappearing with sleep-inducing notes among the dense ancient trees. Lynch carried Soka and Zilvra to the hammock, covering them with thin veils made by the elves to ward off the nightly dampness, then left the room alone.

When he lifted the curtain, he saw the person who should have appeared as expected. The Elf Queen Hernfurry was quietly standing on the platform outside the room. Just like the last time they met, the Elf Queen wore a pure white robe, so simple without any decoration that only when one carefully observed could they notice some silver thread sewn at her sleeves—but in the face of her holy beauty, one would feel that staring at the queen was an impolite act. In her golden hair was a simple small crown, carved from a branch of the white trees here, needing no gemstones like human crowns to display elegance. Time had not left a single mark on her face; no one could tell the queen’s precise age, only legends stated she existed in this world with the Holy Land long before other beings. Her smooth skin was like a baby’s, filled with lively strength like the lake outside the Holy Land, yet no one would think the face was youthful due to the queen’s eyes. Those deep emerald green eyes were like ancient ponds, unfathomably deep, filled with years of memories and time’s traces. They recorded stories of thousands of years past and could see through the mists of the future simultaneously.