"I thought for sure I couldn't cheat fate this time, but it fell for it again," Capillata heard a sound like a bird chirping or a whistle, and remembered it was Vi's laughter. It had been so long since he had heard Vit’via laugh, he didn't remember it containing so much self-deprecation, or perhaps it was just that he couldn't hear it back then. "To the point where I can't tell anymore, whether I'm deceiving fate, or it's deceiving me."
Vit’via hid her face, trembling with her shoulders.
The cold river water temporarily washed away his passionate emotions. It was only then that Capillata realized how little he knew about Vit’via. Even before they met, she had her own problems to deal with, and even though they were lying side by side now, he still couldn't embrace Vit’via's heart. "Vit’via, why do you keep running away?" he asked, powerless as a bystander.
"I did try to fight back, but I was too weak," came the desolate whisper from her back, which seemed like an ivory hourglass. "I was like a kite, flying up to the sky, only to find myself in the hands of fate. Since then, I have been running away, even if it's getting worse and worse. What else can I do?"
Her voice ended with a sharp, piercing tone, and she huddled her shoulders, shaking like a slug trying to squeeze out the guilt from her body, and said:
"I don't want to be burned."
Although Capillata felt confused, he still tried to comfort her:
"You won't. You have black hair..." As the moonlight shone through the leaves, her flaxen hair emitted a faint golden glow, like grains of sand. Vit’via turned around, revealing her immaculate white skin. Two crescent-shaped, pale golden eyelashes adorned her bright black pupils. In the depths of her eyes, under the stars, and at certain angles, there seemed to be a flickering green glow like an omphacite.
Stolen novel; please report.
Snow-white skin. Sun-like golden hair. Deep pool-like eyes.
A child of virgin. The morning star Vitulus. Vit’via.
The boy felt dizzy. The day they first met, Vit’via picked a whole basket of thorns apples as black dye. Now, there was a reason for it.
"Are you the Morning Star... Vit’via?"
Vit’via nodded almost imperceptibly, as if grateful for Capillata's understanding.
She was right. As a Morning Star who couldn't sacrifice herself, she couldn't forgive herself even if she gained the villagers' forgiveness. Therefore, she could only keep running in the world, unable to escape from it. Capillata didn't say anything, just stared straight at Vit’via. And Vi, could read the words from his gray eyes. So when the boy suddenly continued the unspoken sentence, Vit’via understood his promise.
"I can run with you." He hugged Vit’via tightly, pressing his hand against the back of her head, letting her forehead rest on his collarbone. "I will keep the God fire safe in the closest place to you, and not let it burn you. I won't let anyone take it away, so you can be at ease. At the end, we will find a way to extinguish the God fire together. Then you will never have to be afraid again or tell any more lies." He could feel her trembling in his arms, but it wasn't because of fear. "Perhaps the road ahead will be difficult, but we will walk together to the end."
"I…"
At this moment, the world seemed to recede like a mechanical stage, leaving the two of them in the center. Just as Vit’via was about to speak, about to say her lines, an indistinct sound of a bowstring, like harmless noise, interrupted the stage and made the girl's body sway slightly. Capillata was the last actor to realize that the silence had turned sour. He felt a warm, damp, and slightly sticky flow from the fingers touching Vit’via's back, which was unpleasant. He moved his hand slightly and was surprised to find an obstacle in his fingers. Vit’via first stiffened, then lost her strength and became limp like a doll. There was still a little happiness in her round eyes, but it looked a bit foolish.
On her back was a bow and arrow, the arrow deeply embedded in her chest, leaving only a tuft of owl feathers and a droplet of blood at the base of the arrow. A swooshing sound was heard again, this time even smaller. It wasn't until Capillata felt a bee sting on his neck that he realized he had once again overlooked the sound of the wooden mechanism. He felt dizzy and lightheaded. The last thing he saw was a pair of hands holding a crossbow pushing aside the photinia bushes, and a pair of reindeer boots walking towards him.