The Envoy of Abundance from Onphalus

"Hmm?" Russell looked puzzled. "I should be leaving Aidiria soon, so feel free to ask me any questions. I'll answer them if I know the answer."

"Senior," Xia Die hesitated for a moment before finally asking the question that had been lingering in her heart for so long, "Excuse me... Sister Ophina, is she your disciple?"

Upon hearing this name, Russell's smile froze instantly, turning into a bitter expression.

He didn't speak, but slowly nodded, acknowledging the answer.

Then, he habitually raised his head and looked at the snow-covered sky. His breath quickly dissipated in the cold air, and his voice trembled slightly.

"Phew~ The weather today is really strange."

More than a hundred years ago, along with this name, the events of that time surged through his mind like a flood breaking through a dam.

Those deliberately sealed-away images, sounds, and that familiar face are so clear they're breathtaking.

The wind and snow seemed to intensify, swirling up the snow on the ground, blurring the view, and obscuring the boundary between the present and the past.

Amber Seed Medicine Scroll: Chapter Nine: The Sea of ​​Flowers, I Have Witnessed It

“Senior, you seem a little down... Is it my fault…” Xia Die keenly noticed the sadness in Russell’s eyes and said softly.

"I was just thinking about some old things." Russell waved his hand, turning his gaze away from the sky, trying to make his tone sound light. "When you get old, you like to reminisce about the past. I hope you don't find it funny." His voice sounded youthful, yet it carried the gentleness of someone who had experienced many years.

“By the way,” he changed the subject, a hint of anticipation in his voice, “could you tell me more about Ofina? You call her ‘sister,’ so you must know her quite well.”

"Since she finished her apprenticeship and came to Aidiria, this girl has only replied to me with six or seven letters in more than ten years. If she hadn't written me at least once every two years, I would have thought she didn't recognize me as her master anymore." At this moment, he was more like a kind elder reminiscing about the past.

Xia Die remained silent for a moment, as if sorting through fragments of memories spanning a century.

"What's wrong?" Russell asked, noticing her hesitation.

“Hmm… the atmosphere here isn’t really suitable for discussing these things.” Xia Die looked at the surrounding tombstones, her voice soft yet solemn. “The dead deserve to rest in peace, and our conversation here is already a disturbance. As the Holy Maiden of the War, I am well aware of the etiquette towards the deceased.”

Russell nodded in agreement; the solemnity of the cemetery was indeed oppressive. "You're right," he said, "it would be impolite of me to disturb the dead here. Let's go somewhere else."

“If you don’t mind, please come with me.” Xia Die’s tone was gentle, but her eyes were unusually firm. “It would be more suitable to talk about these past events there. But… please keep at least five steps away from me. My abilities… could harm you.” She didn’t want this healer who brought life to be tainted by her own aura of death.

Russell pulled his hood back up: "Understood, let's go."

The two maintained a fixed distance and walked silently through the cemetery, as if bidding farewell to the deceased, expressing silent respect.

The newly fallen snow crunched under their feet, and their footprints were quickly buried by the wind and snow.

As Russell traveled, his gaze swept over the snow-covered graves along the roadside, his heart growing heavier. Ophina, where now, lies dormant beneath the snow?

Xia Die, walking ahead, also walked with a heavy gait, but if you could see her face, you would find that she always had a faint, lingering smile on her cheeks.

The wind and snow gradually subsided, and the snow underfoot became thinner and thinner until it disappeared completely, revealing the dark brown earth.

Russell looked around and recognized the place—a hundred years ago, the Titan of Reason, Thesis, had bestowed a blessing upon this place, granting vegetation the right to grow in the bitter cold; the Titan of Earth, Augeria, had also permanently sealed its abundant blessing here, causing the ice and snow to melt into sweet springs that nourish all things.

He gazed into the distance and saw neat rows of crops in the fields, while an unknown violet flower bloomed on the wasteland and the ridges of the fields.

Xia Die slowly squatted down, gazing at these tenacious little flowers. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to touch them, but she quickly withdrew them.

She said softly, "My sister Ofina used to love this flower too. She said these little unnamed purple flowers were especially beautiful."

Russell also squatted down, looking at these lives that were still blooming against the backdrop of the snow country, and remembered that Cecily had once praised their resilience.

Xia Die pointed to a distant place that Russell couldn't quite make out: "Let's go over there. Sister Ophina rests there. There are things she wanted you to see."

Russell's curiosity was piqued. What had Ophina prepared for herself a hundred years ago?

The two continued on their way. The crunching sound under their feet was no longer the crisp sound of snow, but the sound of solid earth beneath their feet. This vibrant green landscape, teeming with life, subtly soothed the wounds in their hearts.

They came to an exquisite tombstone, on which the name "Ophina" was clearly engraved.

Surrounding the tombstone was a sea of ​​blooming flowers. Flowers from the other five city-states had gathered here, while the purple wildflowers unique to Aeridia were in full bloom, adding a vibrant touch to the scene.

Xia Die untied her cloak, carefully straightened her dress, and found a clean spot to sit down. "Sister Ofina loves flowers very much," she began, her voice gentle. "She has always believed that she could grow a sea of ​​flowers of her own in this faraway northern land. She said that when the flowers are in full bloom, she will write to you and invite you to come and see them."

Xia Die reminisces about the past, when she too dreamed of realizing this seemingly fairytale dream with Ophina. In the despair-filled world of Aria, only Ophina never minded her identity as the "Saintess of Death." Although they couldn't be close, they shared many secrets.

“It seems I’ve arrived just in time,” Russell’s voice trembled slightly, and his pale blue eyes glistened with tears. “I saw the sea of ​​flowers she planted… She’s always been a little one who doesn’t believe in fate.”

He quickly pulled a clean handkerchief from his medical kit and gently dabbed it at the corner of his eye. "It's from the wind and snow... As you get older, your eyes are prone to this."

Xia Die simply sat quietly, listening intently like a long-lost friend. As the Holy Maiden overseeing the battle, she knew that the best comfort at this moment was to be a patient listener.

“Speaking of Ophina when she was little,” Russell’s voice gradually softened with a touch of nostalgia, “she was incredibly mischievous. I taught her to identify herbs, and she, instead, picked a whole bunch of flowers and stuck them all in her hair…”

The figure in his memory became clearer and clearer—that sunny girl with hair as bright as dawn, quirky and clever, who always loved to give him all sorts of strange nicknames.

Now, only this cold stone tablet remains, freezing everything in time. Those forgotten by time always carry a heavier burden of the past.

"Another time, she pretended to be sick in front of me in order to avoid getting out of bed..." As Russell spoke, the sorrow in his heart seemed to dissipate a little, and his tone became lighter.

After finishing his story, Russell seemed to have shed a heavy burden, and with a hint of relieved weariness, he sat down beside Ophina's tombstone. Even the surrounding air seemed to warm up a little.

Ophina wasn't as lonely as he had imagined. He glanced at Xiaodie not far beside him and understood: she still had a friend who had always been there for her, didn't she?

He took out a clean handkerchief and carefully wiped the smooth surface of the tombstone. As his fingertips traced the three deep engravings of "Ophina," it was as if a familiar voice whispered in his ear.

"Really...why are you crying? You're not acting like a master at all."

"Did you see the sea of ​​flowers I planted, Master? Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yes..." Russell responded softly in his heart, "It's beautiful... just like you, growing towards the sun, unafraid of wind and snow..."

……

That's all for today. I have my driving test (Part 3) tomorrow, so this is just a small, regular update, around 5000 words. If I pass tomorrow, I can update more frequently every day from now on.

The plot is a bit depressing at the beginning. This is unavoidable due to the protagonist's fundamental character design. If possible, I'll try to add some sweet moments in later chapters to lighten the mood.

Because I've noticed that the article I'm writing now is starting to have a melancholic feel. It seems a bit too much.

Amber Healer Volume: Chapter Ten: The Philosophy of Death of the Benevolent Healer

Russell was slightly distracted, his pale blue eyes refocusing, and the scene before him was still the vast snowfield of Aedria.

Was that familiar voice just now... a hallucination?

He preferred to believe that wasn't the case.

He turned to look at Xiaodie, who had been quietly keeping him company. At that moment, he truly felt that Ophina was fortunate to have such a friend by her side until the end. At least she wouldn't be alone when she left.

Moreover, according to Xia Die, she had a fulfilling and happy life here for more than ten years.

In this light, Ophina's story has indeed come to a spectacular end.

So, who will accompany him, this traveler forgotten by time?

Bertrand Russell had no answer, nor did he wish to delve into it. Seeking answers might only bring deeper bitterness. If you live long enough, such anxieties will inevitably surface.

Immortality is not a perfect thing, but people still flock to it—he had seen too many humble pleas for immortality from the illustrious noble priests of Onphalus.

“Actually, Sister Ofina never liked the cold of Aria.” Xia Die closed her eyes and continued to recall, “She often said that she missed the days in Ohma. Senior, is Ohma… really as warm as she said?”

“Yes,” Russell nodded, “there is no snow all year round, it’s like spring all year round, and the light of hope seems to nourish everyone.”

"She admired you very much," Xia Die said with a touch of nostalgia. "Every time we talked by this little sea of ​​flowers, she would always ask me about you..."

Russell remained silent, taking deep breaths to calm himself, and quietly listened.

“Oh, right!” Xia Die stood up as if she had suddenly remembered something. “Sister Ophina said that if you come to Aidiria, she should give you this.” She carefully took out a small, faded cloth package from her pocket.

Xia Die placed the package on the ground and took a few steps back: "I'm sorry, senior, this is all I can do. My ability... will hurt you."

Russell stood up, put the handkerchief into his medical kit, brushed the dust off his clothes, and went over to pick up the package.

He unfolded the faded fabric layer by layer, his movements gentle and focused, as if unwrapping a precious gift.

The last layer of fabric was lifted, revealing what lay beneath—a slightly faded wheat-ear headdress. Russell knew immediately; it was indeed this. This was the very headdress he had personally given to Ophina a century ago when she left Ohmar.

At this moment, it returned to his hands in this way. A hundred years seemed to have completed a cycle.

This time, however, the person wearing it was still himself.

“Sister Ofina said on her deathbed that this headdress must be given to you,” Xia Die whispered. “She said that it should stand in her place and continue to accompany you to see more wonderful places.”

Without hesitation, Russell picked up the headdress and pinned it back onto her golden-streaked hair, the action as familiar as yesterday.

A long-lost, vibrant feeling seemed to return to my body, as if I had returned to the passionate days when I first started practicing medicine.

Composing himself, he looked at Xia Die. This trip to Aria had yielded far more than he had expected. At least, that heavy knot in his heart had been untied.

“Miss Xia Die, we’ve lingered long enough.” Russell’s voice returned to its usual gentle tone. “It’s time to go. Let’s not disturb Ophina’s enjoyment of this sea of ​​flowers any longer. If we stay any longer, she might think this old man is being pretentious.”

“Senior, you don’t need to…” Xia Die looked at the smile on his lips and felt a little complicated.

“I know her,” Russell said with certainty. “Since her wish is to rest here forever, guarding this sea of ​​flowers, then let her enjoy it in peace.”

He took a deep breath, the air of the snow carrying a hint of crispness: "Ophina's story has come to a perfect end."

"And our story is not over yet." His smile was pure and bright, without a trace of gloom. "Why not see what kind of chapter we can write?"

All his contemporaries have passed away, and as a living history of Onphalus, every step he takes forward is burdened with the weight of his past.

"And thank you, Holy Maiden of Aria, for staying with me for so long. It's getting late, we each have our own paths to follow, don't we?" Russell's mood lightened, and the last trace of sorrow in his eyes completely vanished. "The story isn't over yet, how can we stop?"

Looking at Russell's magnanimity, Xia Die had more questions. The deep sorrow he had just felt was not feigned, but the senior in front of her was completely different from the person she had just met—one was as melancholy as a deep pool, while the other seemed to have unloaded a heavy burden.

“Senior, you’re right.” She finally couldn’t contain her curiosity. “But seeing your reaction just now, I have a new question. May I ask it?”

“Ask away,” Russell said, seemingly expecting this. “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

“Senior, you are different from the people of Aria. Even in this city-state where death is a constant companion, the living still grieve when a loved one dies. But your understanding of death… seems…” Xia Die carefully chose her words.

"If that's the question," Russell replied calmly, "my answer is: I don't think Ophina is really dead."

“In the eyes of a doctor, death is a common thing. I have seen through it for more than two hundred years. Everything will eventually come to an end, and I am waiting peacefully, but death seems to avoid me.”

"Besides, I believe that a person dies three times in their life. Ophina only experienced the first one."

“Three deaths?” Xiaodie repeated, puzzled.

"The first is the death of the physical body. The heart stops beating, breathing ceases, and the flame of life is extinguished. This is how we usually understand death."

"The second time was when the last person in the world who remembered her also passed away. From then on, no one told her story anymore, leaving only the cold inscription on her tombstone. The traces of her existence began to fade."

"The third time was when all traces of her completely disappeared—her name was forgotten, her deeds were lost to history, like the nameless people who were never recorded in the long years of Onphalus. At this point, she returned to true and complete death."

Russell gazed into the distance, his voice clear and firm: "Miss Xia Die, death itself is not terrible; what is truly terrible is being forgotten. As long as I live, those who have intertwined with my life are, in a sense, still 'alive.'"

"And I, just as time has forgotten me. Perhaps a hundred or a thousand years from now, I will still be walking on this continent. I will be able to tell their stories to those who come after me, so that the world will remember that they once came, lived, and shone."

"The living have their own journey, and the dead have their own peace. We should not blur the line between life and death. Learning to take life and death lightly and reconcile with death is a lifelong lesson for everyone."

The tips of Xiaodie's ears trembled slightly. This theory shocked her, yet it also resonated with her inexplicably.

The Arias are steeped in mourning, while the elders possess a detached wisdom that transcends time. She admires this way of viewing death.

Russell's words also subtly resolved some of her inner conflicts. According to her predecessors' theories, the death she "gave" was not the end. As long as there are people who remember, those who have passed away have not yet experienced a second or third death.

She guards their memories, and in a sense, she perpetuates their existence.

"Thank you, senior." Xia Die bowed solemnly. "Your visit has cleared up many of my doubts. I look forward to seeing you again next time, and hearing more stories and people from your journey."

……

I failed my driving test today. Plus, I was in the sun for five hours, so I'm probably sunburned all over and it hurts a bit. So I'll probably only post a little today; my thoughts are just too jumbled up.

Amber Medicine Scroll: Chapter Eleven - A Glimpse of a Thousand Years

The two parted ways amidst a sea of ​​flowers. As Bertrand Russell said, everyone has their own chapter to write. The chapter of their encounter ends, and naturally, a new story begins. The paths of people are nothing more than a record of countless intersections and separations.

Russell stayed in the frozen city of Aria for another three months. During this time, he did his best to treat those with mild symptoms who were willing to receive treatment. Although there was some resistance, most people eventually accepted the help of this benevolent doctor.

The supervising saint, Harlequin, played a key role in this. She spread Russell's theory of "three deaths."

This philosophy unexpectedly resonated with this city-state that revered death, prompting people who had passively awaited their end to begin trying to remember the stories of each deceased person. This may be the small change Russell brought to Eridia.

Three months later, there were very few patients in the city who needed Russell's treatment. On the contrary, he witnessed three of the most elaborate funerals in the Adriatic style.

Russell always adhered to the principle: if a patient was willing to be treated, he would do his utmost; if a patient refused, he would respect their choice. Imposed treatment is itself a form of illness. If a doctor were to forcibly "revive" someone who wanted to die, forcing them to relive the pain of living, wouldn't they become an accomplice to torture?

The answer is already clear—let go of the urge to help others and respect their fate. This may seem cold, but it is actually a relief for both sides: doctors avoid unnecessary disputes, and patients are able to make their final decisions.

And so, Russell left the city of death as quietly as he had arrived. His arrival and departure caused little ripple in Aria.

Just before leaving, he overheard the soldiers guarding the city gate whispering: the holy maiden who always had a solemn expression at funerals had recently shown a similar sense of acceptance of death as the priests at the end of one of her funerals.