Silence.
No sound at all.
Leonard slightly opened his mouth as he looked at the blond youth before him, who seemed to be steeped in sorrow.
For the first time, he felt how merciless fate could be, sending such a person to appear before him.
Tonight's attention, which should have belonged entirely to him, had been forcibly snatched away halfway through. He himself now seemed dim in comparison, serving only to highlight the other's brilliance.
"Sigh."
A heavy sigh escaped Leonard's throat. His expression grew complex as he stared at Hastur for a long time before softly saying, "Backlund truly deserves to be called the City of Hope, the Land of Miracles of the whole world."
"How is my poem?"
"It's very good."
Leonard nodded, and seeing that the other did not seem proud of it, curiously asked, "When and under what circumstances did you compose it?"
"Just now, while you were reciting your poem."
Crack.
Something seemed to break under the impact of an external force.
Leonard looked down. Oh, so it was his own fragile and sensitive heart.
"How wonderful."
A hard-to-read smile appeared on Leonard's face. He said seriously, "Hastur, you really do have a gift for poetry. You're very suited to becoming a poet."
"I'm just an amateur. Writing poetry isn't my specialty."
"..." A breeze blew by, as if carrying something away with it.
Leonard looked into the distance. Oh, so it was his heart, turned into dust and drifting away with the wind.
"What's wrong?"
The concerned words pulled Leonard back from his vacant gaze. He forced a smile and replied, "Nothing. I just suddenly figured some things out."
"What things?"
"In life, there's no need to be too attached to things you can't see."
"That's very reasonable. As expected of an excellent poet."
Leonard's smile grew heavier, thick to the point it couldn't be dissolved, like the heavy greasepaint of a clown's performance.
A pity he wasn't of the Clown Sequence; otherwise he might have already fully digested the potion.
After a long time and several glasses of Southwail beer, Leonard finally calmed down. He thought for a while, then tentatively asked, "Hastur, what do you think is the key to writing a good poem?"
'Learn to press the enter key on a browser.'
'Break a complete sentence into two or three lines, then add some drifting, vaguely meaningful fragments.'
'Mix them together in threes and twos, and finally leave some blank space.'
Hastur silently grumbled this in his heart.
"I think a good poem should be sincere. Human emotion is our greatest weapon, not artificial pretension or a child singing an old tune."
Hastur offered a rather decent piece of advice. Only poetry that can touch people is truly worth reciting.
Emotion, using genuine feelings to move others, to resonate with readers and listeners, to immerse them until they can't pull themselves out.
As for ornate wording and embellishment, those are merely the surface of a poem. The structure is its bones; emotion is its true soul.
Many poets only have a gorgeous exterior, yet lack a distinguished soul.
Of course, sometimes they don't even have the exterior, and their structure collapses as well, like a puddle of sludge on the ground.
And their soul?
Why, that would be the pitch-black, foul-smelling sewage beside them.
"Hastur, you really should write poetry. More people should enjoy your works."
Leonard's eyes were practically glowing. As the conversation deepened, he increasingly felt that the blond youth before him was a genius in poetry.
"Compared to writing, I'm more skilled in satire and criticism."
Hastur knew himself well.
Seeing Leonard still wanting to persuade him, Hastur smiled and said, "Emotion is the source of poetry. If you force it too much, you'll lose the beauty of poetry and reduce yourself to a tool for its words."
"Alright."
Leonard felt the words were logical, yet he truly felt pity for Hastur.
If he himself possessed such poetic talent, he'd laugh himself awake from dreams.
As they continued talking, they heard people nearby discussing the matter of the Followers of the Stars.
With the issue spreading, the topic was no longer limited to the Beyonder world, even ordinary people had heard of it.
To them, it was simply a new cult, and a terrorist organization at that.
All the major incidents in Backlund recently were caused by these Followers of the Stars.
After listening quietly for a while, both Leonard and Hastur's expressions grew unpleasant.
They exchanged a smile, and Leonard deliberately said, "The Followers of the Stars… Backlund seems to be trending with activities to track them down lately."
"Well, the reward is generous. Even the police have issued wanted posters, any sighting or related information about the Followers of the Stars will earn a substantial reward." Hastur joined in.
"What do you know about them?"
"Not much. You?"
"Me? I don't know much either. I only recently arrived in Backlund, so I'm not familiar with what's been happening here."
Leonard smiled and put on a look of complete ignorance.
Hastur thought for a moment and said, "I heard a Follower of the Stars appeared recently, but no one knows what he looks like."
"He probably looks decent."
"You've seen him?"
"I just heard people mention him. They say he looks alright, rather refined."
"I see. If I get the chance, I'd like to meet that Follower of the Stars."
Leonard turned his empty beer glass and asked curiously, "Why are you interested in him?"
"I'm simply curious what kind of person could be blessed by the Stars."
"That's not a good thing."
Leonard thought for a moment and decided to warn this eloquent Mr. Hastur.
"Even the churches of the Seven True Gods are searching for the Followers of the Stars. That alone shows it's an extremely evil and dangerous organization. We ordinary people shouldn't get involved with them."
"Extremely evil and dangerous?"
Hastur narrowed his eyes slightly and smiled. "But I haven't heard of them doing anything terrifying."
"That's just the surface. Maybe the recent murders were committed by them."
"But didn't the police fail to find any culprits? How do you know it was the Followers of the Stars?"
Leonard laughed awkwardly. "I'm only guessing. It might not be true. But one thing is certain, staying away from them won't hurt."
"That's true."
Hastur clinked his glass against Leonard's and smiled. "We ordinary people should indeed stay away."
"Wait a moment, I'm heading to the washroom."
Leonard drank another beer and finally couldn't suppress the swelling in his abdomen. He rose and hurried to the washroom.
"The Followers of the Stars…" Hastur murmured, ordered another fruit wine, and sipped it quietly.
He wondered whether he should drag out the impostor pretending to be a Follower of the Stars. If that person was allowed to run wild, it would ruin the Stars' reputation.
He didn't particularly care, but it was still uncomfortable.
He had done nothing, yet was being blamed for all the chaos in Backlund.
Those who blasphemed the gods should indeed be punished.
After a while, Leonard returned from the washroom in high spirits and ordered three more Southwail beers and several plates of snacks from the bartender.
Judging by his appearance, he was planning to drink late into the night.
Hastur checked his pocket watch. It was already past eleven.
They had talked for a long time tonight. It was time to go home and rest.
After all, Backlund was not very peaceful recently, it was better not to stay out too late.
"Hastur, want to keep drinking?"
Hearing Leonard's offer, Hastur raised his half-finished fruit wine and shook his head. "We've already had a lot tonight. I need to head home and rest. Maybe next time."
Leonard felt it was a pity and sighed as he walked over.
Hastur glanced at him and said, "You seem troubled tonight?"
"Why do you say that?"
"You look like someone planning to drink until dawn. People who drink alone late at night usually have a belly full of worries, they need a belly full of alcohol to match."
"That's well said."
Leonard didn't explain his real predicament, instead talking about how hard it was for him when he first arrived in Backlund.
Things like high prices, unfamiliar surroundings, staying busy with work, and so on.
Hastur listened quietly. After accompanying Leonard to finish his drink, he stood to leave.
Before going, he told Leonard that if he wanted to find him for a drink later, he could try his luck here or leave a message with the bartender.
Leonard said that he would come look for him if he had time, then watched Hastur depart in a carriage.
"Without such a perfect drinking companion, drinking just isn't as enjoyable."
Leonard sighed and thought of Klein.
His good friend from Tingen had many strengths, but his alcohol tolerance wasn't great, hard to enjoy a wholehearted drinking session with him.
Hmm… Klein's poetry level was also rather average, wasn't it?
Indeed, people like Mr. Hastur, who possessed both talent and looks like him, were truly one in a million.
Leonard quietly drank until dawn, when the bar finally closed, and he prepared to leave.
As he was about to go, the bartender told him that Mr. Hastur had already paid his bill in advance.
"tsk, A newcomer to Backlund and already someone treats me to drinks. I really am a charming man."
Leonard sighed with emotion, hailed a carriage, and returned to St. Samuel's Church in the North Borough.