Chapter 162
Yesterday, another person had come—someone named Ananta, who introduced herself as a disciple who had learned sorcery from Siren.
Apparently, she had been calling rain to the farthest reaches of the South.
It had sounded unbelievable at first, but when Ananta summoned a small cloud to moisten the area around the royal castle, there was no choice but to believe.
“Plants… Water alone isn’t enough. And it’s not just about food. For people to live happily….”
Murmuring, Siren let her imagination take over.
She pictured the barren wasteland before her not as a desert but as a vast fig orchard, where anyone could pluck and eat the fruit at any time.
At the center, tiled roads would be laid, lined with trees on both sides.
And throughout the land, there would be tall trees stretching as if waking from a deep slumber.
They would shield the people from the harsh sun and allow them to breathe easier.
‘This place is a paradise to me—I hope the people who have always lived here can feel the same.’
To commoners, the South must be hell. There wasn’t enough food, water, or clothing.
The poorer and lower their status, the closer they were to death.
‘Ah, I wish for everyone to be happy.’
She wanted to give back more than she had received.
That feeling had been filling her chest these past few days, simmering like a gentle warmth. It was almost ticklish.
The power lying dormant inside her stirred and kept trying to rise.
That simple, earnest desire to give overflowed, filling her fingertips and toes with energy.
And amidst it all, Yasamin’s lonely green eyes surfaced in her mind.
If she could fill this land with the same color as his eyes… perhaps it would round out into happiness.
‘Maybe it’s just my foolish wish.’
But the wish of a god becomes a miracle.
At the moment, she was unaware of it, but the fully restored divine nature was guiding Siren on its own.
“What is Her Highness doing?”
“Well, she sometimes stands there and looks beyond the castle walls.”
“Isn’t it too high? It seems dangerous.”
“Hmm. But look over there. His Highness is watching over her.”
Siren lifted her palms upward and closed her eyes.
The southern warriors, who had been murmuring as they watched her, soon turned their gazes toward Yasamin and let out a breath of relief.
Whether she knew it or not, Yasamin was always watching over her.
He stayed within a distance where he could respond at any moment if something unexpected happened.
“Hey, don’t you hear singing?”
“It sounds like Her Highness is singing… doesn’t it?”
“Huh?”
The warriors standing guard turned their heads back toward Siren.
The lyrics, whose meaning was impossible to decipher, were neither in Wilkeron nor in the southern tongue—they were something entirely different.
It was a sound that stirred a deep, nostalgic longing.
For some reason, their hearts felt at ease.
One by one, they lowered the weapons in their hands, let their shoulders relax, and quietly listened.
Once this song ended, there would be no choice but to let it go—yet it already felt like such a loss.
That sentiment spread from the warriors to the laundry grounds, to the kitchens, to the corridors.
Within the castle, a hundred people all paused in their tasks at once.
A brief, fleeting moment of respite in the midst of a busy day.
Such a moment of rest—wasn’t it a sweetness beyond words?
In truth, a song sung from the castle ramparts should never have reached the underground chambers of the royal castle.
Yet strangely, everyone heard it.
Not with their ears, but with their hearts—an echo that resonated deep within the soul.
Green light lingers on the leaves.
Moonlight rolls down to become dew, and the sun burns it into rain, thus the world turns lush.
Within the generous nourishment, love arises.
Daffodils in the front yard, rose bushes in the back.
And there, the song begins…
And Yasamin stood there, as if rooted to the ground, dazed by the song that tickled his ears.
It was a song he had heard long ago.
Back when Siren was still Aquafuran, she would sing it from time to time when she was truly in high spirits—a hymn to life.
He never thought he would hear it again.
Whenever the goddess sang, every living thing in the South would respond.
Frogs and snakes, nestled deep within the earth with their eyes closed, would awaken.
Seeds would sprout.
Trees would sway joyfully, and fruits would ripen into even sweeter abundance.
Flowers would bloom everywhere, butterflies and swarms of bees would take flight, and even the tiniest insects would flutter their wings in harmony, adding their own notes to the song.
And now, that very miracle was unfolding before his eyes once more.
“Ah…”
From some unseen place, vines burst through the parched earth.
Grass, suddenly roused from slumber, spread as if clutching onto one another.
In a land already deemed a paradise, weeds were nothing more than a nuisance.
But here, in the South, things were different.
Discussion
0 CommentsReactions
No comments yet.