Dalia Shawl's temperament was incompatible with the small town. She did not belong to the sticky sea breeze, the layered clouds, and the smell of fish everywhere. The port of Menethil had a better climate and she belonged there. Jorgen remembered that she had once invited him to dance at a party, but he refused. He said, "This is not part of my job. Look, Dean is stretching out his hand to you - he should be the one dancing with you." The party was held on a boat floating on the waters of the port of Menethil. Under the moonlight, the shadow of a mast crossed the center of the boat.
"Jorgen, how did you find me?"
"It seems that Foudaire valued your safety very much. Unfortunately, he forgot the most basic thing: to find a pseudonym for himself."
"Is he making trouble again? Really..." Ah, come over here quickly. Don't stand. "
Jorgen sat down opposite Fouria.
"Don't open your mouth. I know what you want to ask."
"I have to ask, for my job and for personal reasons."
"I think I need a vacation... The things in Stormwind are too annoying. I like seaports, but Menethil is not very peaceful recently. A fleet was sunk there recently. So I decided to come here."
"So, do you like it here?"
"Well, it's okay. Except that there's not much to do."
"Little Mardias can't find any friends here, can he?"
"I know you too well, Jorgen. You always say a few words with thorns in them. In fact, you think I shouldn't have brought him with me. I'm his mother, I need him by my side all the time."
"Oh, I really can't blame you for that reason."
"Of course. No matter how bad your temper is, who made you my good friend."
"You didn't only bring Foudaire as an attendant, did you?"
"There are two other people. I don't think you know them."
"So," Jorgen paused for a moment, "did you get the old man's permission?"
Dalia leaned back, crossed her arms over her chest, and shook her head at Jorgen. "I don't want to talk about him. I have my freedom."
"Then let's not talk about it."
"Is there anything happy to talk about? It seems you are not too busy with your work here and have time to see me."
"I met Shelley."
"Really?"
"Don't look so curious, I don't even know if this is a good thing."
"Tell me quickly, how is she now?"
The same as four years ago, just naturally more mature. Jorgen really wanted to say that, but he found that he couldn't describe Shelley in front of others. I know what she's like. No one knows her better than I do. But I just can't say it. He was afraid that if he said it, the things in his heart would not be contained.
Four years ago, in Menethil, Jorgen, who had been wandEling around since the age of fourteen, found his first legal job: as a bodyguard for Dalia Shawl, a nineteen-year-old noblewoman. In fact, Dalia's family was declining, and Jorgen's salary was only one-fifth of that of his previous bodyguard, but he was very satisfied. Three meals a day, a basement with a stove to sleep in, he didn't know what else he could ask for.
Rather than employer and servant, Jorgen and Dalia were more like friends. She told him privately, "Hiring a bodyguard is just to reassure my father, in fact there won't be any danger," so she gave him holidays all day long. Although this made Jorgen feel a little ashamed, he was still very grateful to Dalia - if it weren't for the ample free time, he wouldn't have met Shelley either.
The first time they met was on Dalia's private fishing boat. It was Jorgen's day off again, but in order not to feel guilty when he got paid, he ran to the boat to work. Just as he was about to set sail to work, Shelley came to the pier and asked to board the boat to work.
"I don't want wages," she told the first mate, "I just want to help. I like fishing work."
Later, Jorgen learned that Shelley, who was working as a hotel maid in Menethil at the time, really missed working on fishing boats from her hometown, so she made this request. However, the first mate naturally and reasonably refused her. Going out to fish was heavy work, how could he let a sixteen-year-old girl get involved?
Jorgen first only heard her voice, but this voice immediately attracted him to the boat, and he saw her for the first time. No matter from what angle, she was a very ordinary country girl: red hair hidden under a kerchief, thin, fingers stained with soot. But what attracted Jorgen were her big brown eyes. Facing the first mate who prevented her from boarding, those eyes revealed a warm persistence.
"I just want to help." Shelley looked at Jorgen and said.
"Come on up."
"How can this be...?" The first mate looked at Jorgen in disbelief, then tried to reach out to stop Shelley, but was grasped firmly by Jorgen's more powerful hand.
"Come up." Jorgen stretched out his other hand to Shelley and pulled her onto the deck. Her body was very light.
For some time after that, it was the happiest period in Jorgen's twenty-five years of life. He hoped things would continue like this - until Dalia's two attendants were killed and she herself was kidnapped.
"I'm really happy for you to see her again. Maybe my position is the same as yours, Jorgen. But I'm not as lucky as you." Dalia's words temporarily cut off Jorgen's memories.
"Seeing each other once or twice doesn't prove anything." Especially since the last meeting was not very pleasant because of a suspect, Jorgen thought.
"But at least you met... What about me? I don't even know where Dean is. Not just me, probably no one in the world knows."
Dean. After Dalia was kidnapped, it was this man who rescued her with Jorgen's help. Dalia fell in love with him, and it was only after she became pregnant with his child that Dean told the truth: His full name was Dean Shawl - the son of Panthoniaa Shawl, the founder of Military Intelligence Section 7. Their meeting was not a coincidence, chasing those kidnappers was the original purpose of his coming to Menethil.
However, his love for Dalia was sincere, and he was determined to marry her back to Stormwind. In addition, he also planned to take Jorgen away, because:
"You can't waste your talent in such a place. Come work for Military Intelligence Section 7."
Jorgen had no reason to refuse. It wasn't that he didn't have such a simple dream: to stay in Menethil, do all kinds of chores, until one day he bought his own fishing boat, and then married Shelley. But he understood that this was not what he was chasing when he first left home. If he was satisfied with such a life, he might as well have stayed in his hometown all his life.
He and Shelley went through a painful parting that he did not want to recall. He felt that all the emotions he could bear in his life were poured out on that day. After that he became an empty shell. He could only rely on the mad training and work at Military Intelligence Section 7 to fill the emptiness in his heart.
Fortunately, things seemed to develop not so badly afterwards. His friendship with the Shawls grew stronger and stronger, and he became Military Intelligence Section 7's most prominent newcomer. However, just before Dalia was about to give birth, Dean disappeared. No one knew where he had gone. He was supposed to inherit his father Panthoniaa Shore and become the leader of Military Intelligence Section 7, but he gave up this great power, gave up his wife, gave up his soon-to-be-born son - disappeared from this world.
"You were his best friend, Jorgen. Did he really not say anything to you? Was he willing to just leave me like this? Why?"
"I don't know, Dalia, I'm sorry. I really don't know."
Dalia's innumerable sorrowful and angry interrogations made Jorgen feel extremely embarrassed and guilty. He had to admit that he was just an outsider.
"What did you say? I didn't hear you clearly." Dalia's words with added emphasis brought Jorgen's thoughts back to the present.
"Marry Shelley now," Dalia said. "Marry her. Haven't you thought about it?"
"Dalia, are you joking with me?"
"Why does this suggestion sound so absurd? I don't think so."
"I never thought..."
"I know, you never thought you'd see her again. But now that you've miraculously met again, shouldn't you take action? I knew all along you've been thinking about her. All the time. I'm not saying propose right now, but you could at least bring her some flowers or something..."
"Stop it, Dalia. Stop talking."
"Okay, okay, heh heh. Stay here for lunch today, no refusal. Just downstairs in the dining room, it should be ready soon, you go down first, I'll change my clothes."
Jorgen walked out of the room, closed the door for Dalia, and felt a little confused. He didn't know if what he was thinking now was within the realm of reality.
He walked downstairs and saw a black-haired man holding a wooden toy sword in his left hand, pulling a puffy-eyed pose with his legs wide apart. Little Mardias was holding a smaller sword in front of him.
The black-haired man waved the sword haphazardly in the air while shouting, "Haha! I am the dark king! The devourer of all creatures! A glance from me can rot wheat and set beans on fire! Stormwind is but a wisp of sand in my hand! Even the strongest, brightest holy light cannot subdue me! How dare you challenge me-"
Little Mardias rushed forward with his sword and slapped the black-haired man in the waist. The black-haired man immediately fell down, as if deliberately throwing himself to the ground. He kicked his legs and raised his hands high, bending his fingers, pretending to be in great pain, and continued his boring lines:
"Ah -! How is this possible? I will be defeated by a mortal - no, it's not! Young Master Mardias, you must be a god sent from heaven! He is both handsome and powerful, able to defeat me, the dark king -"
At this point, he noticed that Jorgen was also watching the performance, and immediately fell silent. He grinned, showing his teeth, and then immediately got up and said to Mardias, "Young master, go to the dining room quickly, I'll play with you after lunch, otherwise the lady will be troubled if she sees you."
Mardias snatched the wooden sword from his hand, sheathed it in the scabbard on his belt, and then disappeared through the hall into the other end of the room.
"Sigh, entertaining children is such a troublesome job, I made so much effort and he didn't even react. My waist is sore. " He turned to Jorgen and said, "Don't tell the lady the last sentence. You are her guest, called Jorgen, right?"
"How did you know?"
"Oh, I was just outside your room door - slightly - slightly - overheard a little. Didn't want to disturb you, so I didn't make a sound. Nice to meet you, I'm Elin Tias. Lady Dalia's attendant."