2012-04-10: The Awakening - Act III

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The Awakening, Act III / 覚醒 - 第三章

Author: Unknown author Published: April 10, 2012



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There was hardly anything left after they were done. He’d borne witness to the frantic looting of the castle and had found himself only able to escape with his life. It was unthinkable, and as such it had caught him and seemingly everyone else completely unawares. Explosions were set off throughout the capital city…though there wasn’t much point in even calling it the capital city anymore at this point. Britannia was on the brink of collapse into a fully-fledged group of independent city-states, like Nujel’m had always been. All he had been able to salvage were the clothes on his back and the rumpled piece of cloth in his hand. He thought back to the incident in his head, still confused over the choice he’d made…

The fighting was getting closer, and he’d managed to wrap up a dozen or more bottles from the cellar into his tattered cloak, gathering it up and cinching it into a makeshift sack. The shouts were louder, and the wind brought the scent of smoke through the open windows, mingling in with the smell of the bay in a way that was at once intoxicating and stifling. He could hear the clashing of blade against armor, and when the sound carried right, the screams mingled with the howl of metal against armor, flesh, and bone. Time was quickly running out as he made his way to the front gates, stumbling upon something left on the ground. He looked up to see a crowd forming past the iron portcullis that protected his master’s home…and he could smell the scent of gunpowder. His eyes wide with terror, he turned to gather up his scattered bottles even as he heard the gates being assaulted and scaled. His attention was grabbed once more by the old hat, the one ragged corner missing its’ bell, and his fuzzed thoughts clarified for an instant as he thought back to what an old gypsy had told him years ago.

“Sometimes in the darkest nights where we feel we are but a pawn,
Our true identity and importance is revealed to bring about the dawn.”

He seized upon the piece of fabric, intending to grasp the bottles as well when some of the crowd had already scaled the great gates that protected the castle. Within an instant they were grabbing everything in sight. He struggled to get to the gates, fighting past the mob that seemed intent on looting anything they could find, but he wasn’t making enough headway. The gates were flung open and he managed to get past them and onto the bridge, but a passerby suddenly knocked him into the railing. Windmilling his arms desperately, he felt his balance vanish as he went over the edge into the water, his fingers tightly gripping the hat he had once worn so proudly. As he struggled to kick his way back up a concussive wave suddenly struck, and debris began to sink down into the bay around him. Breaking the waters’ surface, he could see the remains of the castle that he had called home for so long; now naught but broken mortar, pulverized brick, and blazing tinder. Anything left of the bridge that could be of use was gone, and bodies and boards alike floated along the water’s edge as the soft lapping current of the bay pushed them towards the shore. As he finally got to dry land, he found the hat still clutched in his grasp, the only thing he’d saved from the castle. Somehow, even with the tragedy and horror unfolding around him, this one thing felt right.

Time hadn’t helped him figure out why it was important to him. It had been forgotten and left to rot as long as he himself had. Still, the gypsy’s words resonated within him and he wondered if this really meant anything, or if it was just the newest in a long series of jests that fate had played on yet another pawn on the chessboard. And if for some reason the gypsy’s words were true then, the warning she gave him later may yet hold water.

“When the yearning arises and all things are taken,
The one sealed away will begin to awaken.”

An involuntary shiver ran through him, and he knew it was from more than just thinking about the chill that the water had left him with.

Japanese version

彼らの過ぎた後には、ほとんど何も残らなかった。男は城における狂乱の略奪を目の当たりにし、命からがら逃げることしかできなかった。あれは予想もつかない出来事だった。だからこそ男は巻き込まれてしまったし、他の誰もが予見できなかったのだ。爆発は首都のあらゆる場所で起こった……今となってはもはや首都と呼ぶにふさわしくはないが。各都市がまるでニュジェルムのように完全に独立した都市国家として分離崩壊に向かって行く。ブリタニアはその瀬戸際にあった。男が回収できたのは、背負っている衣服と手の中にあるしわくちゃの布切れだけだった。自らの選択にまだ戸惑いを覚えながら、彼は頭の中でこの事件を振り返った……。


戦闘の音がだんだん迫ってきていた。男はセラーにあった1ダースかそれ以上のボトルをなんとかかきあつめ、ぼろぼろのクロークで包むと、しっかりと縛って即席の袋がわりにした。怒号は次第に大きくなり、開いた窓から風に乗ってむかつくような不快な潮の臭いと煙が混じりあいながら漂ってきた。刃が鎧に当たる音が聞こえる。そして音が右に移動していったかと思うと、金属が鎧に、肉に、そして骨に当たる音と共に絶叫が響き渡った。残された時間が刻々と減っていく中、正面の門に向かった男は、途中で地面に落ちているある物を偶然見つけた。男が視線を上げると、彼の主の家を守る鉄の落とし格子門を突破しようとしている群衆が見え、火薬の臭いが鼻腔を突いた。男の目は恐怖で見開かれた。しかし、門が襲撃され、よじ登って来る音が聞こえた時でさえ、男は取り落としてしまったボトルを拾い集めようと右往左往していた。男の注意は再びあの古くてぼろぼろの、角の鈴が一つ取れた帽子に向けられ、彼のぼんやりとした思考は一瞬ハッキリとし、数年前にある年老いたジプシーが男に語った言葉が頭によみがえった。 最も暗き闇夜にあるとき、我らはポーンに過ぎぬと思えることがある 我らの真の自我と重要性は、夜明けをもたらすために明らかにされる 男がボトルと共に布切れを拾い上げた時、群衆の一部が城を守る大きな門をよじ登ってきた。あっという間に彼らは目に入ったものを手当たり次第に奪い始めた。男は、ありとあらゆる物を漁りまくる群衆の波に逆らい門に向かおうとしたが、なかなか到達できなかった。門は荒々しく解き放たれ、男はなんとか人々の間を掻き分けて橋の上にたどり着いたが、押し寄せる群衆の一人に突き飛ばされ、手すりの上につんのめった。両腕を風車のようにぐるぐると回して踏みとどまろうとした努力もむなしく、男はバランスを崩して手すりの外へ投げ出されて水中に転落してしまった。しかし、彼の指はかつて誇らしげに身に着けていたあの帽子をしっかりと握りしめていた。陸に戻ろうとした瞬間、男は突然激しい波に飲まれ、がれきが周囲の水中に次々に飛び込んできた。ようやく水面に顔を出し、男は長年「家」と呼んできたあの城の残骸を目の当たりにした。それはいまや壊れたモルタルと粉々のレンガ、そして燃える草木でしかなかった。橋はもはや本来の目的を果たせない姿になり果てており、湾の柔らかな流れが岸にひたひたと打ち寄せる動きに合わせ、死者や木材が浮かび流されていった。やがて男が岸に這い上がったとき、男の手はあの帽子をまだしっかりと掴んでいた。それが城から彼が持ち出すことができたたった一つの品だった。周囲で悲劇と恐怖が展開されているというのに、なぜかこの帽子だけは正しい存在に思えた。


時が過ぎても、ジプシーの言葉がなぜ彼にとって重要であるのかは解らなかった。自分自身と同じように、忘れ去られ、朽ち果てるがままの存在にしてきたのだ。ジプシーの言葉はまだ男の頭の中で何度も響いている。これは本当に何か意味ある言葉なのだろうか? それとも運命はさらに別のポーンでチェスをプレイしていたという長くて滑稽な話集の最新作なのだろうか? そしてもしジプシーの言葉が真実であるのなら、その言葉に続けてジプシーが男に与えた警告は筋が通ったものなのかもしれない。 欲望が生まれ、何もかも奪われる その時、封印されしものが覚醒を始める 無意識に身体が震えた。それがずぶ濡れになった寒さから来ているのではないことは、男には解っていた。

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