Prologue: The Stars That Light the Path
Beyond the Continent to the Outer Land, beyond the Outer Land to Kamran, and even within Kamran, in the deepest and lowest place of all, there is a being pinned down.
Once a witch born of Mystery,
she has now become a concept itself.
The Witch of the Abyss was gazing at the sky.
Her body was pierced by stakes forged of starlight. Stakes driven into both arms, both palms, both shoulders, both legs, both ankles, the nape of her neck, and her heart. The final stake ran straight through her mouth.
Thirteen stakes in all.
Arthur's constellation, driven into the floor of the Abyss.
With every breath the stakes tightened. With every beat of her heart they scrambled the flow inside her body, pinning her hands and feet so she could not so much as twitch. She had endured this for a thousand years, yet the eyes of the Witch of the Abyss remained utterly serene.
"Ah."
She looked at the woman who was treading upon the stake that pierced her own heart.
Unlike the past, the witch looked up at her.
Unlike the past, the woman looked down upon the witch.
Yet no one would ever dare think the witch was looking up at her. The night sky of Kamran—and further still, the very time of night itself—had always belonged to the witch.
"What a futile thing you're doing."
A sneer slid from the witch's lips.
"What do you hope to gain by keeping me pinned here? The seal will come undone soon enough anyway. What meaning is there in holding it a day or two longer? It's all so pointless."
Even with her whole body run through by stakes, her breathing was easy. A thousand years had passed, yet the witch's pupils remained clear, and the dark-red Calamity Star had not gone out.
"Wouldn't it be better to go protect that child you cherish so much? At this rate, the kid will end up dead."
Isn't that so, Blind One Who Has Opened Her Eyes? The witch smiled at Merlin, who glared at her as if she meant to kill.
How beautiful those eyes were.
Eyes that could see the future yet chose not to look, eyes that could live upon dreams alone yet never gazed upon them, eyes that were open yet worse than closed—those utterly foolish eyes pleased the witch a great deal.
"Blinded by hatred, failing to see what truly matters—it's no different now than it ever was. Aren't you worried? At this rate the events of a thousand years ago will simply repeat themselves."
At the witch's whisper Merlin let out a scoff,
as if the words were not even worth answering.
Crunch. Merlin pressed a little harder upon the stake driven through the witch's heart. Then she bent at the waist. Blue hair cascaded down, and between the falling strands Merlin's blue eyes gleamed.
"You say he'll die without me."
The eyes of the Blind One, which had long since lost their luster.
"You're asking if I'm worried about that kid?"
But now Merlin's eyes...
"Not at all."
...were shining. They were the eyes of one who looked not to the past but to the future, the eyes of one who—though she had never prophesied it—was certain the future yet to come would shine.
Merlin is not Najin's guardian.
On that day, in a certain star's tomb, Najin had said to Merlin: I will come to where you are. I will become your companion and show you the landscapes you never saw.
Najin never breaks a promise.
Even separated from him, even though his star was invisible from this place, even though she could not know what situation he faced, Merlin did not worry about Najin in the slightest.
Because
Merlin had already shown him the path.
It's fine to fall. It's fine to lose your way. It's fine to wander not knowing where to go. When that happens, raise your head and light the way ahead with the starlight you have built. There will be a path I prepared for you.
Even without her needing to light it herself,
the Najin of now had many stars to illuminate the road before him. That was why Merlin had left his side, if only for a moment. Because now the kid needed to realize it too.
That I'm not the only one by your side.
That you are a far greater existence than you think.
It was then.
Even from far away she could feel it. Najin's constellation—the constellation of Najin that had taken its seat at the Round Table—was surging violently.
The night sky shook.
Just as it had on the day Najin pulled Excalibur.
In the lowest city a boy was born.
The underground city of Atman.
In a city where the discarded took their place, the boy was discarded once more by his own parents, and so there was nothing in the boy's life. A life in which not even the thought of becoming something could arise.
A life that had failed from the moment of birth.
A life shackled from the moment of birth.
Chains wound around such a boy's body. Iron chains descending from the sky like puppet strings bound him tight. Those chains whispered to him. You'll only fail if you try. If you fail, you'll lose everything. Don't cross the line; live content with what you're given.
Memories of failure flashed past. The burn scar that had become a brand from countless repeated dreams throbbed. The boy's shoulders hunched and his head bowed. Having come to fear failure, the boy no longer looked up to high places.
And so, when the boy's gaze turned to the ground,
someone's voice rang in his ear.
"The world is full of the unknown, boy."
He wore the garb of an adventurer. Tipping the deep-brimmed conical hat with one finger, he smiled.
"It's so full of things we don't know that even taking a single step is frightening. Fear is only natural. But when you take that step despite the fear... that's when you finally see the scenery that awaits."
Spreading both arms wide, he spoke.
"Brave the fear. Do not fear the fall. Not for the today where you plant your feet, but for the vast tomorrow—leap toward the sky."
The Wandering Star, Icarus, reached out his hand.
"A life bound by chains like these is a boring one. A life freely flying through the sky—that is the life that suits you."
Thuk. The moment he touched the chains binding Najin, they turned into slender threads. It was something Najin had once done for him. What one receives must be returned.
Just as you severed my chains,
this time I shall sever yours.
"It's time to set out on an adventure, Najin."
The Star of Adventure shone.
An adventurer never leaves one who fears challenge alone. Because this world is far too vast to cower in fear.
A star shone.
The shining star lit the way right in front of Najin. It could not reach the distant far, but it was light enough to illuminate the span of a hand ahead. Drawn by that risen light, Najin's mindscape began to surge.
Still threads hung over Najin's body.
Still Najin feared advancing.
But the Star of Adventure had no intention of leaving him alone. Drawn by it, the stars nested in Najin's inner self began to rise one by one.
······Whom must a hero who saves others be saved by? It is a question that often appears in hero tales. And to that question a certain storyteller answered thus:
By those he has saved.
By the lives of those who were saved through him.
"This stage does not suit you!"
A voice rang out from somewhere.
Looking around, no form could be seen.
"Is this not already a finished story? The tale of a knight who lost his honor yet never lost his pride, and the boy who promised him a star! A story beautiful beyond compare. A perfect story in and of itself."
And—
"So it is a stage that needs no further continuation."
The stage enveloping Najin was torn.
Solid bricks split as if fabric were being ripped. Appearing while tearing the canopy draped over the stage was a certain knight. A knight who had adorned himself with splendid helm and armor clanked as he lifted the visor of his helm.
"Is that not so, Najin?"
A man with a pleasant smile that made those who saw it smile unbidden. The knight who had never lost his smile appeared by piercing the stage's curtain with his lance.
"And it would be a shame for a fine stage to be missing this."
The Star of Laughter, Don Quixote.
With a laugh he began to run.
"Curtain call, my friends!"
Lance in hand, Don Quixote ran. Behind him as he turned into streaming starlight, actors mounted the stage one after another. Along the path he ran, the black curtain enveloping the stage began to tear.
One of the threads draped over Najin snapped with a soft tuk.
Kung. Someone planted a foot beside Najin. He said nothing. Merely with the lighthouse in his hand—with the axe blade hanging from its end—he severed the threads enveloping Najin. As if to say you must not be bound here.
The Lighthouse Keeper, Eurypylos.
The moment the halberd swept, the darkness receded. The light the lighthouse created lit the path ahead of Najin. From of old that was what a lighthouse was. No matter how dark it seemed, its role was to tell you that a path exists there.
To the boy who resembled his past self, to the boy who sought to advance unlike himself who had lost his dream and stagnated, Eurypylos merely pointed the way ahead with his lighthouse. As if to say that is where you must go.
One of the threads draped over Najin snapped with a soft tuk.
A gentle wind blew.
The wind stirred Najin's hair. It carried the scent of flowers. A certain knight who had made flowers bloom in a barren desert where not even a blade of grass grew planted his foot with a heavy kung beside Najin.
The surging wind swept away the black curtain the Revelry Emperor had draped. It rebuffed the Revelry Emperor's hands that sought time and again to interfere with Najin's memories. Amid that wind Najin could hear his voice.
"Najin."
The Knight of Rondinel.
The knight who lost himself every day yet never let go of himself to the end, who resisted oblivion, smiled.
"Advance. Toward tomorrow."
Again one thread snapped with a soft tuk.
Those who had brushed past Najin's life, those with whom Najin had stayed, those who through Najin had met a different ending, brushed past his side one after another.
The Fallen Star, Viola Oldina, swung her sword.
As if declaring an end to the eternally repeating performance, when she swung her sword the tone that decorated the finale rang out. For Najin who had pulled her from the hell that had repeated for hundreds of years, she cleaved the hell surrounding him.
A knight who had removed his helm raised his sword.
The sword he swung cleaved the darkness. Severed Najin's threads. He did not speak at length. Had they not already spoken enough?
Just one word was enough.
"Stand."
Is not unyielding fortitude the knightly value you and I spoke of? Since you raised me who had knelt once more, this time I shall raise you.
Najin slowly rose from his place.
Straightening his bent knees, planting his hands on the ground.
Ramming.
The moment Najin rose there was the sound of wind brushing past his ears. Presently a single line of storm pierced the pitch-black darkness laid before him. The things barring his path were swept away in an instant.
The Silent Knight says nothing.
He merely opened the path Najin must take.
······Stars that have already concluded their lives and met their end become nourishment for new stars. Their stars had melted into Najin's mindscape and were lighting the way ahead of him.
Stars shone.
Stars that should not exist in the underground city were shining.
The shining stars lit the path engraved in Najin's mindscape. That was the path Merlin had prepared. So that even if Najin lost himself, he could return. Of course, even if a path is prepared, not just anyone can walk it.
It is a long and arduous path. A path where only harder trials await ahead. To walk that path one must challenge, must achieve dragon-slaying, must break through any difficulty, must remain unyielding before any trial.
A path where one must give a funeral to those who cannot die, must have a tale worth laughing at in any adventure, must not forget that one chose such a life oneself.
Najin had to adventure that path.
He was afraid. Madly afraid. Yet Najin walked the path of his own will. Because on that day, in that moment, he had sworn.
That he would reach the highest place.
That from the highest place, he would cry out.
Falling again and again, rolling on the ground, Najin walked the path. Severing the voices that denied him, he faced forward. How long did he walk like that?
Tuk. Something touched Najin's shoulder.
Najin raised his head.
The moment he raised his head and looked ahead, Najin fell silent for a moment. Then he let out a laugh. Yes. You were always at my starting point. And I cannot show you such a shabby state.
A child wants to boast of his growth to his parent, and before a parent wants to show a finer figure than ever.
Najin's rags transformed.
Not a shabby state that seemed about to collapse at any moment, not the discarded boy of the underground city, but as a free knight Najin stood before him.
Before he knew it, Najin was taller than Ivan.
Ivan, whom he had always had to look up to, he could now look at from the same eye level. He was holding out a single sword to Najin.
Looking at the sword he offered, Najin closed his mouth.
There was much he wanted to say. So much he did not know where to begin.
I wanted to show you my present self. The fact that I pulled Excalibur and became a hero of the empire, that now no one ignores me, that now the whole world will come to know your name······.
I wanted to boast to you.
That the choice you made that day was not wrong, that because of you the present me exists, that all my starting points were you, that I wanted to become a knight like you.
I wanted to say that.
Yet Najin could say nothing. As if understanding such a Najin, or as if he already knew, Ivan merely smiled toward him.
Tuk.
The sword placed on his shoulder.
Najin did not know what he should say, but he knew what he should do. Najin gripped the sword Ivan offered. He seized Excalibur, now his own sword with his constellation engraved upon it.
What lay at the end of the path was none other than the starting point.
There Najin asks himself again.
Who are you, and what do you seek to become.
To that question Najin answered.
In the end the answer lay at Najin's starting point. Cross the line. Do not be content with what is given; reach your hand toward the lofty sky. Challenge, and adventure.
How could I forget that.
"That was the first star I ever saw."
The star he had seen in a place where stars did not rise. Toward the first star he had ever seen, Najin smiled as he spoke.
So I'll be going now.
There's still a long way to go.
So saying, Najin drew Excalibur. At that moment it seemed he heard Ivan's hearty laugh saying, "You've grown well, kid."
Najin believed in himself.
Even amid hundreds of denials, Najin did not yield. By enduring those hundreds of denials, Najin looked back upon his starting point and firmly established himself.
He is not alone.
Those who had stayed in his life were supporting Najin. When he looked up at the sky, Najin's mindscape was no longer dark. For there were the stars Najin had buried in his heart.
Even if Najin forgets himself,
they will not let Najin forget himself.
Najin linked their stars into one. A single constellation rose in the sky of the underground city. And thus Najin ascends to transcendence. No longer, even without relying on Excalibur, could Najin believe in himself.
Starlight overflowed.
The overflowing light drove out the darkness. The starlight smashed the stage enveloping Najin. Into the firmly established mindscape of Najin the Revelry Emperor could no longer intervene. For there existed no space where a mere demon could set foot.
Clang.
With the sound of glass shattering, the stage enveloping Najin collapsed.
And what was revealed was the Revelry Emperor's stage.
The form of the Revelry Emperor looking down upon him, become one with the false night sky where the black curtain billowed. The Revelry Emperor's eyes were dyed with shock.
Najin took one step forward.
The false night sky the Revelry Emperor had draped was torn.
Through the tearing night sky, Najin's star shone. A platinum star that nothing could hide, that nothing could rewrite, shone brilliantly.
Gripping Excalibur, Najin glared at the Revelry Emperor.
The Dawn Star drove out the false night.