Mage Legend-Chapter 351: Episode 27: The Meeting (Part 2)

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"The same as my thoughts?" Yilinrui’s face turned slightly pale, such a statement clearly made her a little angry: "No, in my mind, there is never a need for the undead to enter the land of the elves, no need for their cold touch, no need for that voice from the Death World, and no need for the black flames to ignite on Heather’s land. Fyyian, you and I are not the same!"

"Fyyian. Ah! Fyyian..." The Disfigurer caressed his own face, looking at the elf in front of him with his small eyes squeezed by swollen tumors: "It turns out you still don’t know my name, or you will never call that name again! Yilinrui, you are still so beautiful, so captivating. No! More radiant than the image in my memory. And I have become like this. Of course, I won’t blame this on you; all of this comes from my own will."

"The will of freedom." Fyyian added.

Yilinrui tried to concentrate her thoughts, to recall Fyyian’s real name. But the seal she set on her own mind was like a black stone door, firmly locking the answer behind.

"How much suffering have you gone through these years?" The Elf Princess said, her voice becoming very gentle: "Where did you go after leaving Sarandier?"

"Leave? Leave!!" Fyyian stepped forward and shouted loudly: "Yes! I left there! I left that suffocating place with the ’friendly farewell’ of all elves. Yilinrui, your prophecies have never failed, your eyes can always catch glimpses of the future. That time, you saw the harm I would cause to my fellow kin, so I had to ’leave’. But if I hadn’t left, how could I have ’returned’ today?"

Fyyian looked at the female elf opposite him, his fingers continuously tapping each other, making a tappity-tap sound. Under this gaze, Yilinrui lowered her head, unable to deny this fact, unable to deny that it was her prophecy that drove Fyyian onto this path.

"It’s all my fault..." Yilinrui said: "I should bear all the guilt, I should endure the pain you suffered. Everything started because of me, you should aim the spear of revenge at me. If it could spare Sarandier from this disaster, I would do anything."

"No, you don’t have to do this." Fyyian’s voice softened: "I have never truly resented you. I became an Undead Mage, not for you; I became the master of undead, not for you; and my return to Heather, even more, isn’t for you. For you, I could die; but for you, I don’t need to go to such lengths!"

"Look at my face, do you know what caused this?" Fyyian said: "No, from your bewildered eyes, I can’t see an answer. ’Was it caused by elf expulsion?’ you might think, ’Or cursed by the undead?’ ’Perhaps it was damage caused by a magic experiment?’ These answers are all incorrect." He pointed at the mirror in his hand and spoke to Yilinrui: "Whenever I look through the mirror, I can always see the face of an elf. It is not the most handsome, but it certainly isn’t ugly. Maybe you remember that face, maybe you don’t, but it doesn’t matter. Yet when I look at the mirror again and again, I can no longer see any distinctive features of that face. I saw the face of any elf. That face is the old Silintais of the Moon Song Theater, the little Dicky at the ferry by the Holy Lake, the Great Druid, and also the Elf Queen Hernfurry. I can’t see the difference in these faces, or rather, they have long ceased to differ."

"What on earth are you trying to say, Fyyian?" Yilinrui felt the person opposite her was becoming more and more excited, so she asked.

"I speak of difference!" Fyyian shouted loudly: "I was once a bard, singing the praises of many legendary figures. When I recall the faces of these elves, their images in my mind become increasingly the same. Eternal life shackled the elves, making originally elegant creatures increasingly uniform, losing their distinctiveness, becoming monotonous, like a song heard to the point of boredom, with nothing but repetition. When human life becomes vibrant and colorful, when they achieve results in the civilization built over a few hundred years, elves remain stagnant, becoming more and more declining. ’Knowing one elf is knowing all elves,’ this saying is not wrong at all. Your souls have become exactly alike, in my eyes, that blue flame is like imprints from a single mold, merely placed into different bodies."

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