Tales of Vesperia – Ryuu Tsukai no Chinmoku v1p1c3

This is a translation of the Tales of Vesperia novels: The Silence of the Dragon-rider, Judith's story. I am only responsible for translating it, and for any content in ((double parentheses)).
PART 1: A CHANCE MEETING ON BALBUSA

Only the Voiceless Speak The Truth

Chapter 3
The night air feathering over her cheeks was pleasantly cool. But Judith barely noticed, leaning her elbows against the windowsill and gazing outside morosely.
Soon enough it would be daytime again; almost all the lights in all the houses had been put out by now.
She looked down over the town as if she owned it. She should have been in bed a long time ago. The room at her back was much darker than it was outside, but she had thrown the window wide open and was peering out through it.
Another normal, familiar night on Temza. There was no moon out tonight, but the sky was clear, and the stars glittered in its place in the sky like dashed sand.
Although Judith was looking up, she didn't see the stars. She didn't see anything.
Judith sighed, thinking back to her argument with her father that afternoon. They hadn't spoken much at dinner, and they had bid each other only cursory good nights afterward.
'Good night... ryukka,' he had ventured in their ancient language. But instead of sounding natural, it had only felt like a transparent attempt to cover up his true feelings.
Thinking back on it now, those actions seemed somehow shallow. What had her father thought?
What if, she murmured to herself, what if I never learn to use the nageeg? What'll he think then? He'd have a daughter who can't do something that everyone can do--
I could put up with what everyone else says. But what about him? What will I do if he hates me? I don't have anyone else.
That won't happen, there's no way Dad will hate me. She knew that, logically, but the knowledge couldn't chase away her anxiety.
It felt like the darkness all around her was creeping its way into her heart. Judith regretted turning the lights off. But if she lit them again, her father would find out that she was staying up late.
She wanted to stop thinking about it. She should try to think about something else. Judith let her elbows slip off the windowsill, folding her arms and resting her head on top of them.
The machine from that afternoon -- the broken blastia came to her mind, and Judith pressed her face into the crook of her arm.
That machine. Her father had said it hadn't been good enough. And after that, he had destroyed it. Judith's heart sank.
Suddenly, she was angry. She was trying not to think about it, but instead she'd come right back around to think about exactly that thing. Do I like being scared? she wondered.
If that was the only thing she could think of despite her best efforts -- she would just keep looking outside.
The mountains that surrounded Temza like steeples rose up into the glittering starlight sky, as if slicing part of it away.
Hermes had never taught her the names of the stars. That wasn't a subject that appealed to him academically. But even without knowing their names, Judith had memorized the interweaving patterns of those tiny specks of light. She had seen that as time pa.s.sed, the stars moved, until they drifted beyond the mountains.
It was natural for her to always use the mountains as her frame of reference. Whatever mountain she looked at, the stars were continually rearranging themselves, as if they chased each other around while she was asleep. The sparkling stars, and the unmoving, constant shape of the mountains.
Then that shape moved.
Judith blinked. Had she imagined it? No. Although she could have missed it, caught unprepared, the stars filling the sky between two peaks were slowly being obstructed by some shape. As she watched, the next one winked out of existence. And then the next one, unhurriedly following some trajectory through the sky.
Something was flying overhead, Judith realized.
She couldn't make out how big it was. But it seemed to be aiming for the peak of Balbusa. She felt sure it must be headed for some cave there. Even as she thought it, it pa.s.sed into the silhouette of the mountain, and she could no longer see it.
Was it a monster? Judith hesitated, wondering if her father would know.
But even small children were taught about the kinds of monsters that lived around Temza. What she had just seen didn't match any of those descriptions. First of all, they shouldn't have been able to find their way into this circle of mountains, protected by cliffs and winds. Her father had always told her that Temza was protected. The only danger was in making the trip to the Fortress at the foot of the mountains, or to far-off Aspio...
Judith took a step back from the window. Something reckless and wild crossed her mind in that instant.
I want to try following it.
When she turned around, she could just make out her bed, her eyes adjusted to the darkness.
Her common sense murmured to her, Go to bed. It's long past time to sleep. Just shut the window and get into bed.
She thought about the reason she had stayed up late in the first place.
If I go to sleep, it'll be tomorrow.
Tomorrow meant more hours spent practicing. Hours with nothing to fill them but nageeg training, holding that sphere blankly and praying.
She bit her lip reflexively.
But until I go to sleep, it's still today.
Judith crept up to the vague outline of the door and peered through it. There was still a light from the hallway downstairs, meaning her father must be awake doing his research. Taking care to make no noise, Judith picked up the small, unlit square lantern from the desk.
"Grisen..."
Judith edged to the window and climbed up it carefully. She dropped down to the ground below without a sound, and turned around to cast just one glance back at the sill behind her before she took quick, soft steps out into the dead of night.
Grisen... I'm sorry.
The darkness wasn't a problem. "He" could see through a little darkness, but it was easy with countless tiny lights burning in the sky overhead.
The real problems were his hunger and his injuries. His night vision was useless in finding a solution to those.
"He" was disappointed to find that while he tried to get closer, the mountains always seemed far away, only climbing higher across the sky, peaks rising.
It was hopeless. There was nowhere for him to go in this condition.
If he wasn't picky, he would be able to find a place to bed down. But after he had been injured so terribly, his caution had been worn deep. He had to be certain that he was going to be in a safe place.
He was at the mercy of occasional squalls blowing from unexpected directions as he wove his way through the rocky peaks, with the constant threat of being hurled into heartless bedrock.
Without warning, his consciousness flickered out, and at that exact moment a sudden gust from below pushed him high into the air. He was barely able to propel himself over the steep peak of the mountain.
There was a vast hole near the summit of the mountain. He couldn't say whether it was the mouth of an extinct volcano, or a depression caused by the corrosion of an underground cave system, but it caught his attention, standing out darkly even in the dead of night.
There! "He" altered his course to aim for it. He didn't care whether or not there was something in there already lying in wait. At this point, if it came to that, that would be fine.
The naturally-made cavern was wide and deep, and when he traveled inside he felt powerfully nostalgic for something.
The hole seemed to pierce through the whole mountain vertically, as if it continued down into the depths of the earth, and "he" found a ledge midway through that was big enough for him.
He used all his concentration to stretch out his senses, but it seemed like there was nothing else around him.
Letting out a relieved groan, "he" slowly eased himself down onto the ledge. He was like a dead fish, sinking to the bottom of the ocean, but to be honest he thought that death might not be far away now.
He was starving, and his injuries were unbearable. As he laid down upon the ledge for the last time, he could tell that he would probably not be able to rise again, but he couldn't bring himself to fight it anymore. The strength left him as he eased onto the hard bedrock in the darkness.
Something precious inside him had simply faded away.
There was only one thing left to do. He closed his eyes.
"Hermes! Wake up, Hermes."
Although he hadn't been sleeping, the sudden clattering from the foyer made Hermes scramble up, almost falling off his stool. For a visitor to shout like that when he could be easily heard from the doorway, and in the middle of the night...
He glanced back at the doc.u.ment he'd been writing. The last letter on the page had left a big slash through the page. Hermes sighed quietly, balled it up, and threw it in the trash. He left his gla.s.ses on top of the desk and headed for the foyer.
"What is it, Murcy-san? You'll wake my daughter."
The other man had already crossed inside and was standing waiting for him. Oh dear, Hermes thought. That was rather impatient, by Krityan terms. And he looked like he was in a great hurry.
"That daughter of yours, Judith, it seems like she headed out to Balbusa. At this hour!"
"...What did you say?"
"My grandchild Omin saw it. That Omin... I'm going to have to give him a lecture too, up this late at night instead of in bed... Anyway, as I was saying, he was looking outside and--"
Without waiting for Murcy to finish speaking, Hermes spun quickly and headed back inside. He discovered that her room and her bed were empty, and turned again to head for the shelves in his study. He rummaged through a drawer filled with neatly-arranged machines of various shapes and sizes, finally grabbing one and hastening from the room without even closing the drawer. He could hear things spilling out of it from behind him.
The device that he'd picked up was a lux blastia, one which shone. With only one charge, it would be able to provide plenty of light for days. This way he wouldn't have to worry that the wind would blow out a torch, or that a hand-lantern would burn him.
Murcy was still out in the foyer. It seemed like he still planned to explain.
"Thank you. I'm going to look for her," Hermes informed him, pa.s.sing by him without stopping.
"Well, good. Take care, now!" Murcy called after him, his response overflowing with kindness and concern.
Hermes didn't bother to lock the door. In Temza, there was no need for that. He supposed it was thanks to the honest influence of the Great Circle.
Hermes bit his lower lip, and he ran down the path, letting the lux blastia light his way through the darkness.
Temza Mountain was a place surrounded by desert and bleak wilderness. The pioneers who had settled it had chosen that location very deliberately. Despite its high elevation, it was blessed with gentle winds and a warm climate thanks to them.
The pioneers selected a few of the surrounding peaks that were safe the way Temza was -- or made them safe -- and then built bridges connecting them. On the bare, rocky surface of the mountain ledges, the Krityans brought in soil and water and to cultivate land. By all rights, they should only have been able to farm on the world below, but they always had plenty to harvest.
The peak of Balbusa had been spanned with that intention, but now the fields were not in use, and were left untouched.
There was one long bridge connecting Temza to Balbusa. In the darkness it virtually disappeared, turning it only into a dim line against the sky.
From the light cast by her small hand-lantern, she could hardly see in front of her. There was an intense darkness in every direction outside that meager circle of light. The more familiar shadows were nowhere in sight.
Judith kept moving forward cautiously, keeping her gaze only on the ground just in front of her feet. Several times she felt uneasy and glanced over her shoulder, just to make sure that Temza was still behind her, but somehow she kept going. When she finally got close to the side of Balbusa, she found it even darker than on Temza's side.
Judith glanced back in the direction of home one last time, feeling like she could no longer turn back.
From very far away she could see small, twinkling lights. Could one of those lights be coming from her father's study? He was probably still awake.
She'd come this far, and she didn't want to go back home. Going home meant going to sleep. And if she went to sleep, it would be tomorrow.
Maybe Dad had realized she was gone. He would probably be mad. Really mad.
Not only would he be angry, but the knowledge that she would have made her gentle father that way made her heart feel heavy. Of course she didn't want him to be angry. Although she knew there was no way to avoid it, she wanted to postpone it any way she could.
Judith glanced at her path leading up to Balbusa's peak. It ran up the mountain in a narrow path like a gash. The starlight didn't reach the road because of the high rocky walls on the left and the right that cast long shadows, making it impossible to see.
There was no other way up to Balbusa besides the bridge. Monsters couldn't make it there. It shouldn't have been dangerous. But...
She couldn't be sure something wasn't lying in wait there. The shadows felt like they were whispering threats to put her on her guard.
Judith shook her head violently. She took a deep breath and held it while she darted forward into the thin pa.s.sage. She could just make out the slightly-brighter exit and she headed straight for it, and then she exhaled explosively when she made it.
When she looked up at the thin path, it seemed to be clinging to the slope of the mountain leading up. It wove right and left, back and forth, climbing up the peak without any sort of railing. Her destination was in total darkness.
Where am I going? a weak part of her asked herself.
I'm going to find that shadow, the strong part of her answered.
What if I don't find it?
I'll find it.
Okay, but what if I don't find it?
I'll keep searching until I find it. Don't you get it? If I go back, Dad will get angry, and then tomorrow will come!
Judith ended the argument by moving forward again.
She tripped over rocks a thousand times, and even when she felt like she must have twisted her ankle, she kept climbing. Slowly she started to breathe fast. Her body ached in unfamiliar ways as she paused, leaning against the rock.
I must be such a huge idiot, she thought, looking up at the starry sky.
I must be such a huge idiot, she thought, looking up at the starry sky.
But that thought only gave her more will to continue on. Her sense of purpose filled her, stiffening her spine. Logically it was ridiculous, but not to a child.
At long last, she made it to the highest ledge.
Even though she'd come this far, she still hadn't gotten a glimpse of what the shadow was. Distracted thinking of what to do next, she almost didn't recognize that there was a gap in the rock on the nearby slope.
It was a big hole, with what looked like plenty of room for an adult to pa.s.s through, but that also meant it would be perfect for a predator to lie in wait for prey. The darkness inside was perfectly unbroken.
Could the shadowy figure have gone in here?
Judith edged closer timidly to peer in, but as she leaned in a moving light further down the mountain caught her eye.
Someone was coming!
Judith froze. It had to be her father. She felt the painful foolishness of her actions all over again. Her father would scold her for deliberately doing something so dangerous. Why did this happen? She should've just gone to bed like a good girl. She regretted the missed opportunity with all her heart.
But it couldn't be as easy as just going peacefully back home.
It had to be her father coming up the mountain from below. She felt it with complete confidence. If she could slip back on her own, she could just innocently slip into bed. If he asked her what happened, she could tell him that she just wanted to go for a walk outside to get some fresh air.
It seemed like a good idea.
The problem was that there was nowhere to hide herself on the little ledge, and she would have to go inside the cave. He didn't do things half-heartedly, so with a little luck, he would continue further in to see if she had gone down there.
And then she'd have a chance...
Judith wet her lips, putting the cover down over her square lantern to put out the flame. Without pausing to think, she huddled in on herself and plunged into the darkness of the tunnel.
Hermes was also having trouble breathing. His priorities had always been on research rather than working the fields, so no one could say that he was a physically strong man. It was only more difficult when he was recklessly trying to climb a mountain late at night. It would be great if she would come back on her own before he had to go find her, he thought irritably.
Judith may have come up here to brood, and he knew that that couldn't be helped. But with his lungs and his heart feeling like they might burst, he knew that he had to strictly scold her for this.
He could hear his own ragged breathing clearly. If he continued, before long he'd be gasping for breath.
When he could catch his breath, he headed for the broad ledge above him. Hermes was thinking only of climbing it, of finding Judith, and he didn't know Balbusa's territory very well.
He held the lux blastia over his head and looked around, but Judith wasn't anywhere in sight.
The road wound further on, but on his right side was the deep black opening of a cave. He was honestly reluctant to take either path, but he couldn't let that stop him. Hermes moved closer to the cave, lifting his light to it.
Suddenly he heard a sound ring out, like a whistle. He couldn't really make it out with the echoing, but it definitely seemed to be from inside the cave. Then he heard something breaking sharply. Like the gla.s.s shattering in a dropped hand-lantern...
"Judith!"
Forgetting about the potential for danger, Hermes raced ahead into the cave. From the light cast by the lux blastia he could see that the pa.s.sageway seemed to lead straight ahead. It seemed to widen inside. Judith was in the middle, on the ground as if collapsed, an extinguished hand lantern had tumbled to the ground beside her.
Hermes rushed over to his daughter and hugged her tightly. It didn't look like she was in pain or hurt.
"D, Dad?!"
He still didn't know why she'd come up here, but his eyes darted over her. He pulled her to her feet. "Let's go, quickly."
"Wait!" Her mind clearing, Judith held her ground and turned to glance further into the cave. "......I think there's something here."
He didn't need her to tell him that. Hermes started to pull her in the direction of the exit, but she refused to move.
He started to raise his voice unthinkingly, but then that whistling sound rang out again. When he tried to get a better listen, it seemed reedy. It was the cry of a living thing, but very frail. Hermes regained some of his composure and took a step away from Judith, carefully lifting the lux blastia to s.h.i.+ne deeper into the cave.
"Ahh!" Judith let out a strangled noise.
The bright light revealed a creature that neither of them had ever seen before. Its body, longer than two men were tall, laid limply on the ground as it struggled with each labored breath. It had two curved horns, and its body was partially hidden by long fur that grew from the top of its head to its back. Although there was long fur like a goatee around its mouth, it had two huge fins and looked more like it belonged in the sea than above the ground.
As Hermes had suspected -- and was grateful for -- it seemed to be incredibly weak.
Occasionally as it breathed, the whistling noise he had been hearing escaped its mouth. Whether it was simply the sound it made as it breathed or a pained cry, he couldn't tell, but it seemed to be getting weaker with each breath.
While he wasn't paying attention, Judith had stepped up close to his side. She clutched at the leg of his pants tightly.
"......Is it a monster?"
Hermes couldn't answer her. Not in Temza, nor anywhere else he'd been in his travels to other lands, could he remember reading or seeing or hearing about any monster like this one.
"He's dying," Hermes heard Judith say dimly.
Had the previous residents of this place finally returned?
"He" was irritated by their clatter breaking the silence. He forced his eyelids to crack open as a glaring light stabbed at his eyes. There were two creatures there: the light seemed to be coming from one of them.
They were probably the ones who lived here. "He" knew only an exhausted despair.
Let them do what they wanted. He'd do nothing. If they wanted to kill him, whatever they wanted to do, that would be fine with him.
The creatures were chirping something to each other, but soon enough the smaller one ran away, with the larger one following behind it. They took the light with them, and the darkness and silence returned.
Ah, well. "He" closed his eyes again.
((Editor's notes: "ryukka" and "grisen" are not clearly defined. There are two explanations -- the sentences are the definition, or they're terms for one another. So "ryukka" may mean daughter or good night, and "grisen" may mean father or I'm sorry. Sadly for those of us who would love to fic with it, it's not clear at the moment.))
((Ill.u.s.tration: This chapter has an ill.u.s.tration of Hermes holding a lantern staring at Ba'ul's silhouette, with Judith clinging to him and also staring.))
((Credits: Love still goes to rainfalling for getting me the novels for the holidays and for helping me with a few confusing bits.))