The Lost One (3)
Someone yanked Najin's arm.
Into the gap between massive boulders. The instant he was hauled into the cave, a thunderous boom shook the earth as the giant's fist slammed down.
The ground quaked. The giant pounded its palm again and again, then finally seemed satisfied and lumbered away. Amid the rising dust, Najin looked back. A man sat there, one knee raised, perched against the rock.
"No need to bother fighting giants. In the language of the mythic age they might be called giants, but I'm not sure a brute that dumb deserves the word 'man' attached to it."
Even seated, he was nearly as tall as Najin standing. A massive figure. His voice boomed far too loudly for a cave, because he wore a helmet clamped firmly over his head.
The deep voice struck the metal once, then the cave walls, and rolled out again.
"If you meet a giant, just hide. Wrestling those oversized idiots is nothing but a waste of stamina."
Broken armor wrapped in rags. The crest on his helmet was snapped off, the metal covered in what looked like sword scratches. Not only the helmet—scars covered his armor, the rags, the skin showing through the gaps. Everywhere.
A sword bound in iron chains hung at his waist, and in one hand he gripped a massive spear.
He looked like a statue worn down by centuries. The kind of statue raised in a hall of heroes to honor the great. That was the man before him.
"Hey."
He pointed a finger at Najin.
It aimed straight at Najin's heart.
"First, do something about that starlight. It's so bright I can barely open my eyes."
"Pardon?"
"You've got to be kidding. You don't even know how to control your own starlight?"
He sounded incredulous.
"I thought you were some lunatic running around yelling 'Come catch me, my star shines like this!' at the crows. Guess I was half right."
Najin glanced at Merlin.
Merlin rattled off instructions: Breathe. You're getting worked up, so the light's flaring. Snuff the starlight. Najin drew a slow breath, and only then did the man lower his finger.
"Follow me."
He wasted no words. Rising slowly, he pointed deeper into the cave.
"You're being hunted by the crows, aren't you? Come on. I know a few places worth hiding in."
He did not wait for an answer.
Turning his back, he started walking. Completely exposed. Najin watched that retreating figure for a moment.
There was nothing about the man that inspired trust. Help or not, it could still be a trap. He had only just set foot in the Outer Land, but he already had a fair sense of what kind of place this was.
Nothing could be trusted. Nothing at all.
But if I ignore his offer?
Najin looked back. Outside the cave was chaos—the giant's heavy footfalls, the raiders thrashing through the forest. Only two choices remained.
Follow this man.
Or step outside and be hunted again.
"……"
A brief silence. The deliberation was short.
Najin followed. The man never glanced back, heading deeper into the cave. Only the clank of his armor echoed through the dark.
The cave ran all the way out of the forest.
The moment they emerged, Najin's vision filled with the vast expanse of the Outer Land. Vast—that was the only word for the world that stretched before him.
A landscape too wide to fit in a single gaze.
Some stretches were barren, others lush. Snow fell in one place; rain poured in another. Every climate and terrain bled together like mixed paints. Across the endless night sky, stars burned in every color, and on the ground, the structures that symbolized them caught the starlight and glittered.
Colossal monuments marking the domains of constellations.
Enormous swords, spears, towers that seemed to pierce the heavens, crumbling castles, moving citadels, a cross tilted at a crazy angle. They stood so far away their true distance was impossible to judge, yet they ignored perspective and flaunted their majesty all the same.
"……"
Najin suddenly looked up.
Because things he could not name drifted through that lofty sky. Creatures shaped like ships moored in a harbor. Giant beasts swimming through the air.
Sky whales.
What?
Also called star predators. They usually live off the light the stars scatter, but when a star grows weak enough, they'll swallow it whole.
What kind of creature is that…?
How should I know? This land's a dump. Head deeper into the Outer Land and you'll find things far worse. Plenty of cursed things that leaked out of Kamran, too.
Then what about that one?
Najin stared at the largest whale drifting overhead. A citadel rode on its back.
Ah.
Merlin let out a short sigh.
Don't look at that one for long.
"Don't stare."
Merlin's voice and the man walking ahead rang out almost together. The man turned to look at Najin.
"That's the domain of the Heavenly Flowing Star. A constellation famous for its foul temper. Don't look. Getting tangled with it is nothing but trouble."
Najin averted his gaze. So there were constellations that would throw a fit just from being watched. As he lowered his eyes, something at the far edge of the horizon caught him.
Impossibly distant. Even in the Outer Land—already beyond the edge of the world—this was farther still. Something glittered at the horizon's rim. Stars. Tiny points, yet unmistakably stars. The light they cast ignored thousands upon thousands of kilometers and still reached Najin's eyes.
Why do those stars shine so brightly?
Hm? Oh, those? Heh.
Merlin laughed, low and sly. It was a thoroughly unpleasant sound.
Well…? Why don't you ask the man in front of you?
So he did.
"What are those stars shining at the edge of the horizon?"
"What else? The most famous ones."
"The most famous?"
"The stars of the Round Table. The star of the great hero Arthur, the star of the great mage Merlin, the stars of the knights who followed them."
He pointed toward them.
"The great constellations that stand guard so the cursed things of Kamran never spill into the Outer Land. Among countless fakes, some of the few real ones."
Merlin laughed that same sly laugh. She draped an arm around Najin's neck and jabbed a finger into his cheek over and over—See? Hear that? He felt no touch, yet it was oddly annoying.
"Hey. How long have you been in the Outer Land?"
"Today's my first day."
"Figured as much. Anyone who acts the way you do wouldn't have lasted long."
They walked and talked. Simple questions passed back and forth. After answering, Najin asked one of his own.
"May I ask your name?"
"Kid. In the Outer Land, nothing's more rude than asking for a 'name.' An epithet, maybe. But a true name?"
"Then your epithet?"
"Asking for that is rude too, in my case."
So what was he supposed to do?
The man shrugged and spoke.
"A name. A name, huh."
He murmured as if tasting an old memory, then muttered, "Ah, that works." He rapped his fist against his helmet. Helmet and gauntlet met with a heavy clang.
"Helm Knight. Call me that."
"You're a knight?"
"For the time being."
An ambiguous answer.
"My name is——"
"Do I need to know it?"
"If I've heard yours, it's only polite to give mine. Just listen."
"I didn't give my real name either. I'll just call you boy. Easier that way."
"Why 'boy,' of all things?"
"Because you look like a brat."
The Helm Knight gave a short laugh.
"Your body hasn't been restored to its prime. You're exactly the age you look—a green kid. Am I wrong?"
"……"
"Silence is agreement, brat."
Traveling with the man who called himself the Helm Knight, Najin learned a few things.
Across the Outer Land wandered more than twisted beasts and monsters. Many people drifted without purpose. Their eyes held no focus. Arms hanging limp, they walked with no destination. Looking at them, Najin felt only a deep sense of wrongness.
Wearing human skin, yet not human.
Creatures little different from the beasts and monsters littering the ground. To Najin they felt like corpses that still moved. No intelligence remained. The only difference from true corpses was——
Shhhk!
—that their movements were unnervingly precise. When a beast charged one of them, the corpse-like man transformed. Perfect footwork, perfect stance, a perfect strike. His blade traced a clean arc and cleaved the beast in two.
No mind left, yet the experience carved into the flesh endured. That was what it seemed to say. The sight reminded Najin of Graf, the man he had faced not long before.
Even with his head pierced, Graf kept moving.
Eyes rolled back, blood streaming from eyes, nose, and ears, he still moved. What drove his unconscious body had been the experience etched into his flesh.
"Looks like the crows have their eyes fixed on you. They're still crawling after us this far."
The Helm Knight glanced behind them.
At a careful distance, the raiders watched Najin. They did not attack. Najin had noticed and simply let them be.
"Well. After seeing starlight like that, they couldn't exactly let it go."
The Helm Knight turned.
He looked straight at the raiders. The helmet hid his eyes, yet Najin felt a pressure in that gaze—the unique weight strong men carried.
The Helm Knight wasted no words.
He simply tossed one line at them.
"If you're coming, come."
The raiders came no closer. They turned and withdrew. Watching them go, the Helm Knight sneered, then looked down at Najin.
"I helped you. You'll admit that much?"
It was undeniable.
He had received the Helm Knight's help. Najin nodded.
"If something's given, something should come back. There's no free favor. I want fair payment for mine."
"What do you want?"
"Most of what you have doesn't look worth much, but one thing does."
He said,
"Tell me about the world outside."
The Helm Knight said he knew a place where they could talk. On the way, Najin asked a question.
"Do you know a man named Graf?"
"I do. Graf, knight of Kurtan. Fairly well known around these parts."
"Is he actually a knight?"
At that, the Helm Knight turned to look at him.
"What are you really asking?"
"He called himself a knight, but nothing about him looked like one. There's a pretty wide gap between the knights I know and the kind of knight he claims to be."
"What do you think a knight is, then?"
"Someone who never loses honor or pride, no matter the circumstance."
The Helm Knight stopped walking.
"Haven't heard that in a long time. Do you admire the knights of Atanga?"
"Yes."
"Well. From their point of view, most of the people living on this land have no right to call themselves knights."
He went on.
"This land is where honor, pride, and ideals grow endlessly faint. To keep those things here, you have to be strong. Only the strong can protect them."
"That's……"
"Of course the weak can still hold honor and pride in their hearts. But you've already seen what happens to those weak ones, haven't you?"
The Helm Knight gave a short laugh and pointed.
There they were—people wandering the Outer Land with empty eyes. Broken things.
"This land does not grant ordinary death. Death here means becoming a Forgotten One who has lost everything and forgotten everything. An insult worse than death, a humiliation. No matter how loudly you shouted chivalry while alive, once you end up like that……"
He scraped a finger roughly along the seam of his helmet.
"It means nothing. Doesn't it? The moment you fall into something lower than a beast, all the honor and pride you ever held becomes worthless. You become a grotesque animal. There's a reason survival is the highest value on this land."
On the Continent there was such a thing as an honorable death. A proud end as a knight was permitted. Not here. In this place, no such ending for a knight was allowed. That was what the Helm Knight was saying.
"That friend Graf was a proud knight before he came to this land. He cut down demons. He killed knights who were unworthy of the name. He charged alone into a black mage's workshop to save kidnapped children, and though he was covered in wounds, he brought every last one of them out."
That was the man he had been, the Helm Knight said.
"But he lived a hundred and seventy years in the Outer Land. A hundred and seventy years. What do you think he saw in that time? Deaths that could never be honorable, deaths without a scrap of pride. He watched his comrades turn into Forgotten Ones. After seeing all that, could he still cry out for honor and pride?"
The Helm Knight touched his helmet.
The crest, full of nicks, was broken. The dented, hole-ridden helmet had lost half its value as armor. Yet he still wore it.
"On this land, honor and pride are like strong liquor. Drink and you get drunk. Wake up, and it hurts."