1 001.Abel

The combination of cold north wind and flying snow has brought great damage to the fields in the north.

Heaven and earth are one, no dividing line can be found, bare trees scream in the cold wind, like a suffering girl.

Streets that used to be very busy now look particularly depressed and desolate. Pedestrians are scarce. Occasionally, people

appear, but they are also covered from head to foot, revealing only two black eyes, just like mysterious masked killers.

Winter in the city of holy light is especially depressing, as if all living things are hibernating. The day when water drops

into the ice will slow down people's thinking. If there is nothing to do, most people will stay at home, seldom go out and

become more lazy.

In the low hut, Abel sat quietly on the wooden bed, his hands deftly turned over, and a stream of thumb-thick water kept

shuttling between his hands. This is his only toy and his closest companion.

...

There were several slight coughs in the next room. Although the voice was suppressed, it still did not escape Abel's

sensitive ears. His hand slightly opened, and the long water miraculously shrank back along Abel's hand and disappeared

silently.

Abel poured a cup of hot water and went to the next room. ...

In the room, a weak woman leaned feebly against the pillow, her right hand pressed against her soft chest, her eyebrows tight

knit, and her face full of pain.

But all this, at the moment Abel pushed the door, the woman immediately restrained her expression on her face, and then her

expression and posture were like waking up from sleep.

Abel walked gently to the bed: "Mom ... are you better?" Should we send for a doctor? You seem to cough more these days. "

The woman gently stretched out her right hand, stroked her son's black hair, doted on him and said, "No, no, no, no, my

mother is fine. I will be fine in a few days. "

Abel frowned and looked suspiciously at his mother. He picked up the cup with his left hand, measured the temperature, and

then put the cup in front of the woman.

"Drink some water, mom. After drinking water, I want to hear the story about my father again. "

Thankfully, the woman picked up the cup, took a sip gently, moistened her throat and said with a smile, "do you want to hear

dad's story? No problem ... but you must show me your skills. If you practice well, I will tell you! "

Abel's eyes sparkled with excitement. His hands spread out to both sides. Wrist thickness, length of nearly 10 meters of

water soon appeared around Abel's body, miraculously hovering around him.

The woman nodded and looked expectantly at her son: "Well, you can start the performance now. Let your mother see what state

your control of the water flow has reached! "

Nodded, Abel waved his hand gracefully, confidently controlling the nearly 10-meter-long water flow around his body, just

like magic.

Abel's has absolute confidence in controlling water flow. Since his mother taught him the game on his fifth birthday, he has

practiced it every day. Today, it has been exactly three years. The current is one with him, just like arms and fingers. He

can do whatever he wants.

After a while, Abel's hand closed and the long pale blue water quickly returned to his hand and disappeared.

Looking at his mother with pride. Abel said firmly: "don't worry, mom, I will become the greatest knight in the future like

dad!"

Hearing the son's words, the woman nodded bitterly, knight? Is it possible for a gifted magician to become a powerful knight?

The woman looked at her son apologetically, knowing that he was better suited to be a magician. If Abel targeted knights, it

would be difficult to achieve anything. The weak current cannot kill the enemy. Even if the water turns into ice, he cannot

become the most powerful knight.

Go to the bed, Abel took off his shoes, climbed into his mother's bed, snuggled up in her sweet, clean and warm arms, and

said in pettish, "Okay, mom, now ... it's time to tell the story of my father!"

Hey ...

The woman sighed secretly. She knew that the reason why her son wanted to be a knight so much was that she often told him

stories about his father. The child's father is a strong knight. Unfortunately ... the child's ability is not to follow his

father, but to follow herself.

Looking at her son nestled in her arms, the woman hugged her son tightly, firmer and sweeter. The story begins. ...