Black Spire (2)
Merlin's eyes had always shone.
Even after a thousand years of life, her voice had always brimmed with energy, and every movement of hers had carried a vivid spark of vitality. Thinking about it, that was strange.
A hundred years. Two hundred. Three hundred.
Watching a human who had lived that long, the first word that came to mind was not living, but dying. There were a few exceptions, of course, but most transcendent beings who had endured such spans of time were not so much living as simply holding on.
To keep from eroding. To keep from breaking. To keep from becoming the undead. To keep from falling as a star.
They endured eternity while dying by degrees.
But Merlin was different.
She had lived several times their span—a full thousand years—and still she overflowed with life. She had always been living each day as if it were the only one.
"You."
But now.
"You—who are you?"
The Merlin staring at him now was someone Najin could not call alive no matter how hard he tried. Those unnervingly deep blue eyes held no spark of life. The stars he always used to see in them were gone.
Dead eyes. Empty eyes.
Eyes that said nothing in existence held any meaning at all.
"I'm asking you. Me."
Merlin beckoned. Across dozens of meters of distance, Najin was yanked forward until he stood right in front of her. There was no way to resist that pull. She seized him by the throat and spoke.
"Who are you."
Those vivid blue eyes bored into him.
2.
Up close, the differences between the Merlin before him and the Merlin he knew were more than just the atmosphere she carried. Her appearance itself was a little different.
If the Merlin he knew looked like a girl in her teens, the one in front of him was closer to her twenties. A more mature Merlin, the last traces of childishness stripped away. Unlike her current short hair, this past Merlin wore hers long, cascading down her back to her waist.
Squeeze.
Najin felt the touch of her fingers against his throat. They were cold. Not the temperature of a living human being.
"I am."
Najin opened his mouth.
"I am a free knight. Najin."
"…A free knight?"
"You can tell by the clothes, can't you?"
The free knight's coat from a thousand years ago and the free knight's coat of today were not so different. He had never expected that fact to prove useful in a situation like this. Thinking as much, Najin pointed at the fingers still locked around his throat.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd let go."
"…"
Merlin released him without a word.
"Why would a free knight come here? Didn't you hear it from the Round Table? They must have warned you never to approach the depths of the Outer Land."
"I did hear it."
"Then why are you here? Is your life that cheap?"
Honestly speaking, he hadn't come because he wanted to; he'd been dragged here more than anything… but instead of saying so outright, Najin hesitated a moment before answering.
"My guide pointed this way."
"Ha. Whoever your guide is, they're definitely incompetent."
Merlin snorted.
She turned her gaze away as if he no longer interested her. Seizing a fistful of the unconscious witch's hair, she began dragging the woman somewhere.
"Where are you going?"
"Why do you need to know? What, feeling sympathy for this witch? Think I'm being too harsh?"
"I wasn't thinking that. You must have your reasons for doing this. You're not the type to act without them."
Thud. Merlin stopped mid-step and looked back over her shoulder.
"And what am I supposed to be?"
"You're Merlin. The Great Mage Merlin."
At Najin's answer, a fragile smile twisted across her face.
"Right. That's right. I am the Great Mage Merlin. Occupant of the Round Table's second seat, Arthur's guide. No—I can't call myself a guide anymore. What kind of guide is this?"
She sneered.
The mockery was aimed at herself. Still smiling that bitter smile, Merlin hurled the unconscious witch into a hollowed-out pit. A foul stench boiled up from within.
A pit filled to the brim with corpses.
And it was not the only one. Everywhere he looked there were bodies. Najin realized every last one of them was a witch, a demon, or a demon contractor.
The Slaughterer.
The word Merlin had once used floated up in his mind. She had sometimes spoken of her past with a self-deprecating laugh, calling herself "the Slaughterer"—the being who had cut down more demons and witches than anyone else in history.
Whether Najin watched or not, Merlin continued her work.
She stretched a hand toward the sky. Then she clenched her fist with a sharp crack. At that instant the unconscious witch convulsed violently. Coming to her senses, the woman began thrashing. Her mouth was frozen shut so she could not scream, which only made her struggles look more desperate.
"…! …, ……!"
A face twisted in agony.
Only a little later did Najin understand what was happening to the witch. He looked from Merlin's outstretched hand to the sky she was staring at.
The moment he lifted his eyes, Najin could not help but suck in a sharp breath. A landscape beyond imagination stretched above him.
Crunch.
A gigantic hand was tearing constellations out of the heavens. A constellation of seven stars was being ripped from the sky, scattering starlight like torn flesh.
With a sharp sweep of her arm, Merlin flung her clenched fist. The stars fell in the direction she swung. Seven stars plummeted, trailing light. Looking around, he saw it was not only one or two constellations falling.
Dozens of stars were crashing down.
The frozen ground where Merlin stood was littered with the corpses of stars. In the middle of a sky that should have been overflowing with them, only a single star still shone.
Arthur's star.
Every filthy star that had dared to settle near Arthur's, Merlin was tearing out without exception.
"You there."
Merlin pointed at Najin.
"If you don't want to die, you'd better leave this place."
She muttered under her breath.
"They'll be here soon."
What was coming?
There was no need to ask. The sky tore open and witches astride broomsticks began appearing in ranks.
Dragons. Witches. Demons.
Those who fed on chaos and turmoil filled the heavens. As if they could no longer stand Merlin's rampage, they had come here to kill her. A sneer hung on the lips of the witch leading them.
"You without Arthur—do you really think you can handle all of us alone?"
Dozens of constellations.
Hundreds of apostles following them.
Hundreds of stars packing the sky.
"Your story is over, Merlin."
They looked down on her from the air. Merlin did not look up at them. Without sparing them so much as a glance, she raised her hand to the heavens.
And then—whoosh.
She swept her hand from high to low.
Boom.
As if the dream replaying Merlin's memory could not reproduce what happened next, the entire world shuddered violently. Reality began to groan and then to collapse. The sound of the world tearing itself apart echoed in Najin's ears.
Krrrrrriiiiiiiiiik!
In the rending world, Najin saw one last thing.
The sky falling.
Merlin dropping every last one of those who had dared look down on her, casting them all to the earth.
And Merlin's face—so fragile it seemed ready to shatter at any moment.
That was the last thing he saw before he woke from the dream.
3.
The instant he opened his eyes, Najin gasped for air. His heart was hammering like mad.
Just now…
He had not simply woken; he had been forcibly ejected. Yet the Black Spire seemed to accept even that as a "clear," for it did not bar his path. Najin steadied his breathing as best he could and looked around.
There was Anton, still on his knees with his head bowed. He had not yet woken from the dream.
Hey! Hey!
Then came Merlin's urgent voice.
Are you okay? Can you hear me? Are you conscious…?
Najin looked at her. There she was—the Merlin he knew so well, different from the one he had just seen in the dream. He opened his mouth, closed it, tried again.
The words would not come easily.
How was he supposed to explain this?
In the end, the first thing out of his mouth was neither here nor there.
Did you see it too, Merlin?
See what? You collapsed on the floor?
Not that. Something like a hand pulled something out of me and showed me a dream…
I remember up to that point. What happened after? All I saw was you lying there like a dead fish.
It had been Merlin's memory, yet Merlin herself had apparently not been present for it. Looking at the worried eyes fixed on him, Najin gave a bitter smile. This was the Merlin he knew. Relieved, he said,
It wasn't my memory. I saw yours.
At those words Merlin went rigid.
Wh-what?
She recoiled, eyes wide, and demanded,
When? Memories from when?
I'll tell you later.
Najin looked toward the next floor.
When she had explained the Black Spire, Merlin had said a single dream continued without break. Did that mean climbing to the next floor would pick up exactly where the last one had cut off?
If so, there was something he needed to ask her.
Merlin.
No, just tell me when those memories were from—
In the dream, is it all right to use Excalibur?
At the question Merlin fell silent for a moment.
I don't know why you're asking, but…
She stared straight at him.
You should be fine. If the witch Malkuth were still alive it would be another story, but now that she's dead… the dreams you have in this tower are nothing more than illusions.
Good. That was enough.
Najin nodded and slowly pushed himself to his feet.
So what exactly did you see in the dream?
You, Merlin. From the time when you still held twelve stars.
The moment the words left him, the color drained from Merlin's face.
How—how do you know that? Even I don't remember that.
You said it yourself. What this tower shows is the most painful memory of all.
The Mystery that had settled into the Black Spire: Reminiscence.
After the witch Malkuth died, the Mystery she had possessed had overlaid itself upon the tower. And just as its original master had wished, the Mystery gifted every challenger who entered with a nightmare.
The most terrible memory.
The most intense memory.
The happiest memory.
What it showed changed depending on the challenger or the floor… yet for some reason, in Najin's case it seemed to be showing him Merlin's most terrible memory of all. A past even Merlin herself had forgotten.
And at those words, Merlin's face went from deathly pale to pure white. This was nothing so simple as shame or embarrassment at having someone else see her past. Sharing a portion of her emotions, Najin felt the fear and dread rolling off her.
Merlin was afraid.
…Merlin?
Najin looked at her. The moment their eyes met, Merlin bit down hard on her lip.
Let's get out of here.
She grabbed his arm and pulled. There was no substance to her body, yet her urgency came through clearly enough.
Let's leave. Quickly. Okay? You've come this far—that's enough. You don't have to climb all the way to the top, do you?
Her eyes were trembling.
I said let's leave. Please? Just this once, can't you listen to me?
Merlin, just calm down for a second—
I said we're leaving!
She shouted.
As if even she were startled by her own voice, Merlin clapped a hand over her mouth. Looking as if she had no idea what to do with herself, she stared at Najin, fingertips shaking. Her eyes were full of dread. Breathing hard, she said,
Please.
Merlin begged.
Clinging to his arm, she pleaded.
Can't we just… stop here? Just this far?