The wind suddenly blew, and the tide rose and fell.
A little boy was walking on the beach. The water passed over the beach and retreated into the sea, leaving only the wet sand.
Barefoot, he stepped on the sand and carefully avoided the sharp conches.
When the water surged onto the beach and soaked his heels, it gave him a cold feeling.
After walking on the beach for a while, he looked back and saw a tall promontory. There was a small chapel on the promontory. The further he went, the smaller the chapel became, but the presence of the promontory was still obvious.
It looked like a horn attached to the body of a giant called the sea.
The little boy continued to walk forward for a long distance.
Usually, he would not be alone. There were always other children around him, whether he liked them or hated them.
Now, he was walking alone on the beach, looking like he had no destination in mind.
He picked up a conch from the ground. The little creature in the conch had run away, or this was a "former residence" that had been abandoned long ago.
The conch was big in the middle and small on both sides. It looked like a fat flute.
He turned the conch that looked like a flute over and checked it. After confirming that there were no sharp thorns, that his fingertips were not numb, and that there was nothing strange in the conch, he put it to his mouth and blew it.
There was a reason why he was so careful. After a child picked up a big conch and blew it, he was bedridden for almost half a month because of mouth poisoning. It was said that he almost died.
After that, whether it was him or the other children, they were more vigilant about things like conches, especially those around here.
Their teacher taught them how to identify the small things on the beach, which could be touched and which could not be touched.
Every child remembered the teacher's teachings in their hearts, because there was a living example by their side.
Of course, there was also the teacher's ridicule. They did not want to be the next idiot who was bedridden for half a month and almost died.
The little boy blew the conch, and the conch made a muddy sound. It did not sound pleasant, and could even be said to be unpleasant.
He looked at the conch in his hand, shook his head, and threw it back into the sea.
He didn't come here to pick up conches for fun, so he didn't feel any pity. Moreover, after living at the seaside for a long time, he would gradually become accustomed to these kinds of things that he saw for the first time. Then, he would be surprised why the next newcomer would be as excited as a child just because of a big conch or a big shell — although they were children.
For the little boy, he had already experienced the stage of going from novelty to normalcy.
He went on, towards the north of the church.
He didn't go out on his own for no reason. It wasn't because he was throwing a tantrum, nor was it because he wanted to escape from the church or the clutches of that teacher.
The reason why he had been able to leave the chapel alone, unaccompanied, was that he already had company, and it was enough to be reassuring, and yet very much to be feared.
The little boy did not know how long he had been walking. Perhaps it was a long time, or perhaps it was just a short time. When he looked back, he could no longer see the chapel.
Suddenly, he stopped, no longer moving forward.
He didn't stop because he was tired. He didn't have any intention of resting. It was just that something in front of him made him stop.
It wasn't a shell with thorns, nor was there a frightening beast. What made him stop was something lifeless.
It was the bodies of dead people, floating from the north to the south.
He didn't know how many corpses there were, because the scene in front of him was too bloody and horrifying. It was impossible to count how many people had fallen — some of the corpses might not even be considered a complete person. It would take a few people to gather together to be considered a complete body.
The bodies were stranded on the beach and didn't continue to float towards the little boy.
The coast was dyed red with blood, and even the sand was red. This made the little boy stop. He didn't want to dirty his feet with blood, so he stood in a place that wasn't stained by blood. The bloody water was not far from him, and it was pushed back by the clean water.
Among the corpses, there were civilians in ordinary clothes, soldiers in armor, and people in gorgeous clothes. No matter what kind of people they were, they were all dead and lying on the beach. There was no difference.
The little boy remembered his teacher's words. Death was equal. No matter if it was a noble, an ordinary, or a lowly life, after losing it, they would all become the same. That was death.
The little boy was not afraid of this hellish scene. He was used to seeing death.
The first time he had a date with death was when he saw his family members, whose faces had become blurry in his memory, slowly die due to famine and winter.
He was lucky. He was the last one alive, so he was saved and came to this chapel.
The person who saved him became his teacher, and this teacher was a strange person.
"Why are you in a daze?"
The voice came from his left. He turned his head and saw a girl coming out of the dense forest.
The girl was wearing a nun's habit and a headscarf. She had wrapped herself up tightly, with no skin exposed. Only her delicate and pretty face could be seen.
She was holding a slender wooden stick in her hand. She had a smile on her face, and her eyes were slightly narrowed as she looked at the little boy.
"Teacher," the little boy said.
Although it sounded a little strange, this young girl, who could even be called a child, was the little boy's teacher. Perhaps she looked more like the little boy's elder sister than his teacher.
It was very difficult for the little boy to treat the girl in front of him as an elder sister. His elder sisters had already died long ago, and even their faces were almost blurred. However, the girl in front of him, who he called his teacher, had deeply engraved her face in his heart.
"Why did you stop?"
Nuns walked towards the little boy and noticed that the little boy was not wearing shoes. "Look at you. You didn't even wear shoes, and you ran out like this?
I didn't say that you should come out without shoes, did I? "
"You told me to come to the beach. I didn't want my shoes to be soaked," the little boy replied.
"Then what do we do now?
Do you plan to walk barefoot into this bloody water? "
Nuns smiled. "I don't think that's a good idea. When you go back, your feet will stink so much that people won't dare to come near."
"I'll wash up before going back," the little boy said.
"Then do as you wish. As long as you don't go back with this bloody smell, I won't chase you out of the chapel to sleep."
Nuns said. It sounded quite heartless, but the little boy was used to it. When she was happy, she would give all the children a treat, but when she was unhappy, she would tease those who were younger than her. Not only the children, but also the adults in the chapel.
To the little boy, she was not a disgusting bad person, but a strange and troublesome teacher.