Chapter 502： An Ling Festival (1/2)
This is a special day for Ansu people.
The day of peace.
On the 45th of each year, the festivals throughout the country will be launched as scheduled. On this chilling day, the Ansu people will come up with the last food and strength that can be used to squander their ancestors and have returned. Relatives and friends of the world of the dead.
Although many people in the modern world have forgotten the original meaning of this festival, the tradition of hundreds of years has made the 45th of the frosty day a special date mixed with mystery, prayer, hope and commemoration. Many Ansu people firmly believe that the country of the dead The gates will be open on this day, and the souls that have passed away will be able to return to the world on this day, whether they have gone to the temple of death or to the sacrifice site of the blood god, or to a certain kingdom of gods. These souls will come along the path paved by the dead daisy, celebrate the festival with the living, they will also appear by the campfire at night, accompanying those who miss in the form of indefinite smoke, fire or shadow. Their people.
Therefore, although this is a day to remember the dead, the Ansu people will spend the day in a festive way, they will decorate the house with flowers, and will hang the grass ring on the fireplace or on the wall facing the gate. It will ignite a grand bonfire, sing and dance around the campfire to celebrate this day, because they firmly believe that the souls will go home to see this day.
In addition to commemorating the deceased, the Anse Festival has another meaning for Ansu, the northern kingdom: it means the end of most social activities.
On the 45th of the frosty month, the last day of the crossfire of the sacred constellation, the arrival of it means that the winter is approaching this time and there are still ten days from the winter, but the weather in the northern kingdom is cold enough to continue to waste energy in the outdoors. To a certain extent, perhaps the nobility will hold several festive winter feasts on snowy days, but for civilians with food, fuel and clothing shortages, this is the last time they have a large-scale outdoor event in the year. .
After some careful calculations, people took fuel and food together to inspire their spirits in the form of the last celebration, and prayed to the souls of the ancestors for the second year of good weather. The simple people have simple thoughts: Praying to the three gods of Fengrao is the privilege of the fertile priests. It takes a lot of money to ask for a good harvest from the Druids. It is better to ignite a bonfire in the last festival before winter, and hope that those who may have entered the Kingdom of God The dead people can help themselves to bless themselves for three or five pounds of food in the coming year.
People celebrate their annual Peace Day with such a simple wish, and then crouch down after the end of the Anse Festival, just like the ancestors who have returned to the country of the dead, quietly in the next long winter. Crouched down.
In the city of St. Sunil, the subtle fragrance of the death ceiba is permeating the streets. Although the whole kingdom is still deeply immersed in the quagmire of war, the Anse Festival is still on schedule, it is because of the heavy rain of war. Under the rush, people are in desperate need of this festival to comfort those who are on the road.
The white flowers have been inserted in front of the households. The decorative straw or flower vines are hung under the eaves of each house. The adults carry the collected firewood to the nearest square or open space for the evening. The campfire is preparing, and the carefree children are yelling around the adults, consuming their physical strength and energy.
This kind of scene is not only unique to the civilian neighborhood, but even within the magnificent silver fort, it has a similar picture.
The servants were preparing a huge bonfire in the courtyard. The knights polished their spears and swords and decorated them on the promenade leading to the courtyard. Victoria Verd stood in the courtyard with a white dress and silver shawl. In front of the entrance, she held a white cedar in her hand and seriously put the flower on the chest of Moore in Wales.
"His Royal Highness, may you remember the glory of the ancestors." The Duke looked at the heir of the Moen blood in front of him, and said in a calm and calm tone.
Welsh Moore looked down at the white flower on his chest and smiled a little at himself, then bowed his head: "I will remember it."
The Victorian Duke looked at the expressionless face of Welsh Moore and suddenly said, "His Royal Highness, do you know why the annual psalmion is to be worn by the patriarch of the Wilde family for the heirs of Moen's blood? ”
The eyes of Welsh in Wales seem to flash a bit, but he still calmly said: "This is because the Wilde family sheltered Moen's blood at the most dangerous moment of the kingdom, just as the ancestors are worthy of commemoration. This friendship is also worthwhile. commemorate."
Victoria looks at the eyes of Wales, there is no pressure in the eyes, but the female duke seems to have an innate winter temperament that will cause unspeakable pressure. Under normal circumstances, everyone who looks at her But for ten seconds, the middle-aged man opposite her was stunned. In the gaze of more than a dozen seconds, the Moor of Wales did not shift his eyes, but looked at the Duke in a candid manner.
Victoria seemed to have a smile, and she took back her eyes and looked at the huge pile of wood that had begun to take shape in the courtyard: "...I also asked Prince Edmund the same question. How do you guess how he answered it?"
"……I do not know."
"'This is to let every Moen descendant know that because there is a Wild family, they are qualified to commemorate their ancestors in this silver fort, not in the horse shed in Beishan County. This is him. The original words," Victoria said indifferently. "That was three years ago, our great founding hero has not yet come out of the grave."
There was no buzz in Moss, Wales, but he stood there without saying a word.
"He should also wear the dead jewel now. In a fortress in the eastern plains of the Holy Spirit, a bonfire is ignited to commemorate the father who is probably killed by his own hands. He finally humiliated in silver. In the fort, I accepted the flowers that I had put on him, and I fulfilled the requirements to commemorate the deceased," Victoria said slightly, pointing to the old man who had already passed through the middle age. "Now this role has been replaced by you, and it has been replaced. about you."
"I don't think this is humiliation."
"Maybe, but it doesn't matter," Victoria's tone was very indifferent. It seems that it really doesn't matter. "Your father is a good king. Frankly speaking, I respect him, although he is not necessarily willing to accept my respect. ”
Wales looked confused at the female duke in front of her. She didn’t seem to understand why the northern ruler, who had always been temperamental and detached, rarely said a lot, suddenly said so much to himself, but Victoria did not care about his confusion, just continued. With:
"This country has stood for hundreds of years. There are dozens of people who have sat on the throne, but not everyone really cares about this kingdom. Your father has done it... Believe it or not, the Wilde family has always been sincere. I really support him."
Wales opened his mouth, but eventually did not say anything.