Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 68 A Little Girl's Room

The carriage moved along the stone-paved road, making a regular, dull sound.

Inside the carriage, the goddess sat upright, her tear stains wiped away, leaving only slight redness and swelling around her eyes. Her back was straight, her hands clasped on her knees, her knuckles unconsciously rubbing against each other.

Outside the car window, the lights of the aristocratic district gradually disappeared, replaced by the solemn and towering silhouette of the church district and the burning torches along the way.

She didn't look out the window, but instead focused her gaze on her empty palm, as if she could still feel the cool, smooth touch of the bracelet from twenty years ago, and... the outline of a wrist that was smaller and warmer than the bracelet.

The magician agreed. The thought raced through her mind, bringing her hope.

Twenty years have passed; I have waited for a full twenty years!

Finally, it arrived, but...

Alexander prophesied that he would agree, and also that even if he refused, he would ultimately help him.

The prophecy did not say how long he would have to wait.

Another twenty years? Can she endure another twenty years?

As long as I can see her, it's all worth it!

Perhaps soon, that magician will find her...

Pain and joy intertwined in her heart, throbbing up and down with the swaying of the carriage.

The carriage entered the courtyard of the Cathedral of Holy Light, which was reserved for the goddess, and came to a smooth stop.

The goddess alighted from the carriage and walked steadily through the courtyard in the night, heading towards a detached three-story building on the side of the cathedral.

At the entrance of the small building, two fully armed holy knights stood on either side, the holy emblems on their breastplates gleaming golden in the glow of the magic lamps.

Upon seeing the goddess, they silently bowed their heads, their right hands striking their left breasts in unison with a dull metallic sound, before pushing open the heavy oak door for her.

She walked through the corridor and came to a door where four holy knights stood, their eyes sharp.

This door is the only one in the building guarded by holy knights, and there are four of them, which clearly means that what's inside is very important to the goddess.

The door doesn't look special; it's made of wood with thin metal sheets around the edges to prevent insects and borers.

The goddess took out an old brass key from her bosom, inserted it into the keyhole, and turned it gently.

A soft click sounded, unusually clear in the quiet corridor.

She pushed the door open and went in, then closed it from the inside, keeping the four guards out.

This small building is located on the west side of the Cathedral of Holy Light. Outside the door, the world is filled with solemn hymns, swirling incense, and the prayers of believers. Inside, time seems to have been carefully cut out and preserved intact from a certain afternoon twenty years ago.

The room was small, but unusually bright.

Several luminous stones embedded in the wall emitted a constant glow, illuminating every corner. The windows were covered by double-layered sheer curtains, filtering out the darkness and chill of the night outside.

Upon entering the room, the first thing you see is a small white wooden bed placed against the east wall.

The bedposts were carved into a wave shape and hung with light blue gauze curtains, which were now held up on both sides by silver hooks. The bedding on the bed was neatly made, and a thin, hand-embroidered blanket covered the fluffy quilt with a pattern of sheep under a starry sky.

Beside the pillow, nestled a plush deer, one eye seemingly drooping, the other still dark and bright.

At the foot of the bed, an open wicker basket was filled with various toys: a wooden knight that was already somewhat faded, several small knitted animals, a box of smooth pebbles, and several cardboard books with frayed edges, titled "The Story of Revelation" and "The Talking Creek".

In the center of the room lay a wool rug woven with a maze pattern. Beside the rug was a low table and chairs, on which lay an unfinished coloring book.

The page in the picture book was open to a portrait of a saint whose skirt was only half painted. A piece of sky-blue crayon lay on the edge of the table, and next to it was half a piece of honey candy that had dried into a stone-like shape.

Under the table, a pair of small, white, soft sheepskin indoor shoes were neatly placed, with the toes pointing towards the bed.

Against the west wall is an open wooden shelf, about the same height as a child.

On it were some childish toys: a row of small bowls and jars made of clay, fired and painted in bright colors; a ceramic vase with a few faded feathers stuck in it; a stack of drawing papers tied with colorful silk threads, the top one with two small human figures holding hands drawn in crooked lines, next to which was written the almost illegible words "Mom and Me"; and an open wooden box containing a few smooth, round stones and a dull copper button.

Everything was spotless and dust-free, meticulously maintained, as if it had been waiting for the room's owner to reuse it.

It's obvious that this is a little girl's room.

The goddess stood in the center of the room, her previously straight back gradually slouching.

The mask of compassion and majesty that belonged to a goddess shattered completely the moment she returned to the room.

Her lips trembled uncontrollably, and her eyes were quickly filled with tears.

She didn't make a sound, just stood there quietly, letting her tears roll down her cheeks and drip onto her dark robe, leaving dark dots.

She walked to the crib, reached out her hand, her fingertips trembling, and gently brushed over the loosened button eyes of the rag doll, as if afraid of disturbing its peaceful sleep.

Then, she picked up the deer, hugged it tightly to her chest, lowered her head, and buried her face in the old but clean little toy.

Intermittent sobs finally escaped from her throat, starting softly but quickly growing louder, accompanied by violent shaking of her shoulders.

Twenty years of waiting, fear, and despair, along with the hope ignited tonight, all mixed together, broke down all the dams.

"I'm sorry..." She buried her face in the fawn's body, her voice hoarse and broken, "I'm sorry... Mommy didn't protect you... I'm so sorry..."

I cried for a long time until my throat hurt and my eyes were red and swollen.

She slowly raised her head, tears streaming down her face, her gaze falling on the stack of drawings on the wooden shelf. She staggered over, untied the silk threads, and picked up the top drawing.

Looking at the two distorted human figures holding hands on the drawing paper, and at the almost unrecognizable "mother," she suddenly twitched the corners of her mouth, revealing a smile that was uglier than crying.

"Look," she said, her voice hoarse yet unusually gentle, as if speaking to the figure in the painting, "someone promised... a wizard named Harry. He's very... kind. He promised to help Mom find you."

She gently traced the outline of the word "Mom" with her finger, her smile deepening, yet new tears welled up in her eyes again. "You'll be back soon, won't you? Back to Mom's side..."

The smile didn't last long. Her gaze fell on an open, empty jewelry box on the dressing table. The concave shape of the velvet lining was exactly the size of a bracelet.

The smile vanished from her face instantly, replaced by extreme pain. She suddenly put down her drawing paper, rushed to the dressing table, and grabbed the empty jewelry box with both hands, her knuckles turning white from the force.

"Where...where are you...?" she growled at the empty box, her voice trembling with despair. "The person who stole it...where did they take my child...?"

She closed her eyes, pressed her forehead against the cold dressing table, and a new, even more torrent of tears flowed silently.

This time, she didn't even have the strength to sob; her shoulders trembled as if she were shaking out all the pain in her soul.

After a long time, the trembling gradually subsided. She slowly stood up, her tears dried, leaving only traces of exhaustion on her face.

She walked to the bedside, hugged the plush deer, lay down on the small bed covered with children's bedding, and curled up.

She held the fawn tightly to her chest, her other hand unconsciously gripping the edge of the pillow, her gaze blankly fixed on the soft halo of light on the ceiling.

"Come back soon..." she murmured almost inaudibly into the silent room, "Mommy is waiting for you... I'll always be waiting for you..."

She lay there on the child's bed, holding the child's toys, motionless, like a statue.