Cycle of Destiny

Chapter 26 Symbiosis

The next day, Harry was in high spirits. He had slept well the night before, and although all the magic he had absorbed was gone, it didn't affect his good mood.

Veronica's attitude towards the banquet was trustworthy, and Harry knew that the food she was serving the guests today must be exquisite, though not as good as yesterday's lunch, but it would certainly be delicious.

It was almost time, so Harry changed into the suit Veranika had prepared for him, and then ordered the innkeeper to call a carriage. They then headed toward Veranika's castle.

The carriage came to a stop in the twilight, and a neatly dressed servant was already standing in front of the stone steps of the castle's main gate.

He was about thirty years old, wearing a well-fitting dark short jacket, spotless white gloves, and his hair was neatly combed back.

Seeing Harry get out of the car, he bowed slightly, a simple and clear gesture.

"Good evening, Mr. Harry. Welcome." His voice was flat and clear, without any extra inflection.

Harry looked up at the castle.

This is a well-proportioned three-story stone building with light gray stone walls that are tightly joined together. The windows are tall and neatly arranged, each letting in bright light, and the dark green window frames appear serene in the twilight. On either side of the porch, there is a brass wall lamp, with a steady flame burning inside its shade.

The outside of the castle hadn't changed much; it was still the same familiar place.

His gaze immediately fell on the black gate in the very center.

The door was thick and smooth, with a matte finish under the light. A large bronze family crest, polished to a mirror shine, was inlaid in the center of the door panel.

The main body of the badge is a shield, with a leopard standing tall and proud engraved on the shield.

The leopard has a lithe body with well-defined muscles, clearly visible outstretched claws, and a tail held high, forming a taut arc. Its head is slightly tilted to one side, its mouth open as if silently roaring, giving it a majestic yet alert appearance.

Above the leopard is a small wreath decorated with pearls and leaves. The entire badge is bordered by an intricate vine pattern, with a few small lily reliefs adorning the tips of the vines.

That leopard is Veranica's family crest.

Twenty years ago, when Harry's father and her father received their noble titles, they chose family crests that resembled lions because they both admired the Knights of the Lionheart.

Harry's father chose the tiger, while Veronica's father chose the leopard.

The servant silently pushed open the door and stepped aside to let Harry go first.

The door led to a wide hallway. The floor was covered with a dark red short-pile carpet edged with a dark blue diamond pattern. The lower half of the walls were paneled with dark oak, polished smooth, while the upper half was covered with light beige wallpaper with a subtle pattern.

The ceiling was high, with a row of wall lamps hanging from it, providing ample and even light that illuminated the corridor. There was a faint scent of beeswax and wood in the air.

At the end of the corridor, a double light-colored oak door was ajar, letting in warmer light and faint sounds of conversation. The servant quickened his pace and pushed the door open completely.

The dining room was more spacious than the hallway. A long, dark table, large enough to seat twenty people, sat in the center of the room, its surface covered with a crisp, starched white linen tablecloth with neat folds at the edges.

Each seat was set with a complete set of silver cutlery: a knife, fork, spoon, and wine glasses of various sizes, arranged in order of size, all gleaming with a uniform matte finish in the candlelight.

In the center of the long table, at intervals, there is a low silver candlestick with slender white candles burning steadily. Between the candlesticks are shallow crystal bowls filled with clear water, in which fresh pink water lilies and round lotus leaves float.

The room had three tall windows on each side, now draped with heavy, dark green velvet curtains, elegantly gathered and tied with gold cords. A stone fireplace stood on the far wall, its hearth clean and empty.

A row of slender celadon vases sat on the fireplace mantle, each containing long peacock tail feathers, their eye-like markings shimmering faintly in the candlelight. Above the fireplace, a metal shield, engraved with the same leopard-print emblem as the door crest, hung silently.

What surprised Harry most was a portrait hanging on the dining room wall—it wasn't unusual for nobles to hang portraits in their homes, but the key was the content of the painting—

A leopard with dark fur and silver-white markings lay quietly on a moss-covered fallen log.

On a gnarled, withered branch above it, a raven with silvery-white rings around its neck perched, gazing down at the leopard below.

Moonlight filtered through the tree canopy, illuminating the rosemary and lavender growing in the forest clearing, and also falling on the leopard's back and the raven's wings.

The corners of the gilded frame are carved with grapevines, while the edges are alternately lightly engraved with leopard claw marks and raven feather patterns.

Anyone familiar with the church knows that the raven is a sacred bird of the church.

Although Harry's family is not religious, he had heard the story of the goddess and the raven when he was very young.

There is a chapter in the Book of Revelation that tells this story:

A raven was caught by the temple guards for stealing golden ears of wheat that believers offered to the goddess on the altar.

According to the law, it should be executed.

The goddess came to the raven before the execution.

The raven did not beg for mercy, but nervously looked at its chicks crying for food on the distant cliff.

The goddess saw everything in its eyes, forgave the raven, and said:

"The cry from the edge of the cliff is more sacred than the ears of wheat on the altar. Your sins are forgiven by the cry of hunger."

From this day forward, you need not steal anymore. You will become my messenger, guiding lost souls and bringing news from afar. All that you do will be rewarded with the food you deserve.

From then on, the raven shed some of its black feathers and grew a ring of silvery-white feathers around its neck, becoming a sacred bird that connects the realms of life and death.

It was redeemed and made sacred through the goddess's mercy.

The leopard and the raven are a hunting duo in the forest.

Ravens circled overhead, their sharp eyes searching for movement among the bushes. They would lock onto any prey that strayed from the flock, then land on a high branch and let out three short, hoarse cries.

Upon receiving the signal, the leopard lurking below will immediately tense its muscles and begin its hunt in the indicated direction.

While the leopard feeds, the raven waits quietly in a nearby tree. The leopard tears open its prey's belly, first eating the internal organs and the softest muscles, and then retreats to the side to clean its paws and cheeks after it has eaten its fill.

The remaining carcass—including the head, most of the skeleton, and fur—was left behind. After the leopard left, the raven swooped down, pecking at the remaining scraps of flesh with its strong beak and swallowing the remaining bones whole.

In mythology, ravens often follow behind leopards, waiting for their chance.

They form a symbiotic relationship about "death and message"—the leopard brings the end, while the raven announces the end and cleans up the traces.

Coincidentally, the emblem of the Lionheart Knights, which represent royalty, is a lion.

As is well known, lions are the kings of social animals. After a hunt, the pride will collectively guard the prey and drive away all scavengers.

On a symbolic level, the lion represents light, glory, and open conquest, and its killing is seen as a sacred or just act, requiring no raven to announce or cleanse it; the raven, on the other hand, represents secrecy, prophecy, and misfortune, which conflicts with the symbolic system of the lion.

Therefore, in mythology, lions often drive away or despise ravens, regarding them as "profane voyeurs" and thus forming an antagonistic relationship.

The feud between these two animals foreshadows the conflict and antagonism between the royal family and the church.

The "Crimson Invasion" brought great changes to the capital. The church began to gain the upper hand, and it became fashionable among the nobility to hang the famous painting "Symbiosis" in their homes.

But Harry remembers very clearly that the painting wasn't on the wall before he left.

What Harry found strange was the lingering, slightly warm scent in the restaurant air – the smell of food left after the banquet had ended and all the food had been cleared away.

He could distinguish the slight acidity of the sauce residue, the fruity aroma of dripping wine, the sweetness of bread crumbs, and the faint steam rising from the wooden tabletop after a damp linen cloth had been wiped across it.

These scents intertwined, rich but no longer fresh, like the lingering warmth of a commotion that is gradually cooling down.

The smell in the air seemed to tell Harry that dinner was over; but the neatly arranged clean tableware on the table clearly said: the food had not yet been served.

This puzzled Harry, especially since there wasn't a single guest in the restaurant.

The attendant led Harry to a seat to the right of the head of the table, and then retreated to the wall.

Almost as soon as Harry settled in, the side door on the other side of the restaurant opened, and two young waiters silently entered and began serving appetizers.

Their movements were precise, and they did not speak.

The first thing placed in front of Harry was a wide-rimmed, shallow white porcelain plate containing several thinly sliced, almost transparent, deep red hams with grease around the edges, accompanied by a small clump of chopped, unnamed green herbs.

Next came a small silver dish with a few shelled oysters soaking in white wine sauce, accompanied by half a lemon.

As the servant poured him wine, he could clearly hear it coming from the other side of the castle, across several doors and corridors.

It was a lively dance tune played on string instruments, faint but continuous, interspersed with the indistinct and dense rustling of many people's feet on the wooden floor, and the occasional laughter that was blurred by distance.

Harry realized that the other guests had obviously finished their meal and were dancing in the living room, while he was left alone to dine.

Could it be that in the two years since I left the capital, the start time of banquets in the capital has been significantly brought forward?

Two servants appeared silently again and placed a covered, deep silver soup bowl on the table. The lid was lifted, and a thick, scalding steam rose up, carrying a unique mineral aroma.

The soup was a cloudy, milky white, with a few golden specks of oil floating on the surface. When the servant ladled it into Harry's bowl with a silver spoon, some dark red, fine pieces of meat and bits of cooked bone marrow could be seen at the bottom of the soup.

"Pork bone soup," the waiter announced in a low voice, his tone steady, and he even explained the dish to Harry.

"The tailbone of a juvenile rock lizard from the Storm Mountains is selected, crushed, and simmered for twelve hours with rock salt and cold water, with a small amount of snow-capped thyme added to enhance the flavor."

You started serving food all by yourself?