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Largo 31

Chapter 31

    ***


    -He did.


    That one moment of unhesitating affirmation.


    My legs went limp, and I wanted to slump into my seat.


    Joy and sorrow, happiness and heartbreak, ecstasy and sadness, and also the nameless one....


    That something, that something welling up from somewhere.


    I was overwhelmed with a feeling that I had never felt before.


    But apart from that, I chewed my lip hard.


    - I wondered why His Highness asked for us. In a duchy where there are two Seeers, what need are we in this unprecedented situation?


    -.....


    - But he wanted to inquire about the myth. When I told him it was an old story, he didn't hesitate to say he would do it. He didn't ask us old fogeys to die for him, he wanted to do it himself.


    My clenched fists trembled.


    For a brief moment, I remembered his words and demeanor, coldly etched in my mind.


    A wave of grief washed over me, unbearable to bear, and the impression of its deep sadness made me unable to be myself.


    On my behalf. Why, you.


    - But it's just a story that's been told. We know better.


    The listener added a wry smile.


    And then came the devastating words.


    -That this is not permitted.


    What did he think when he heard the word no? Frustration, despair, or relief that there was no sacrifice, no redemption.


    Putting the question behind me, I opened my trembling lips.


    - Yes. I know, I know, that there is no way out.


    The reciter’s grip on me tightened.


    The touch on my back was so warm.


    Like that of a mother I now forget.


    - And it's not what I want either.


    The next words made the listener pause.


    Once, he shook his head.


    His aged lips curled into a question.


    - That's another unexpected comment. Doesn't every human being in this world want to live a long life?


    It was right. Even I, who realized that I was only living when I knew I was going to die.


    Even though my happy memories were almost non-existent, my desire to live hadn’t changed. But….


    - I've just come to realize it.


    -Realize what?


    - The new "seeer".


    I thought of the child who would remain silent, dead, in my sediment.


    This child, so gentle, was perhaps the one who was under the most pressure right now.


    -She is still a child.


    -I'm told she's only 16.


    -I saw that enlightened child suffer, and I learned... that the death of another because of me is also an unbearable pain.


    And as I recited those words, I realized one more thing.


    In that sweet child's world, no one could be more harsh and cruel than me.


    It was a belated awakening, and one that allowed me to write the words with such boldness and conviction.


    - I do not wish to see anyone go in my stead, even if the myths that have been passed down are true. It would be something I could not bear.


    I could not bear the thought of remembering, reminiscing, and recalling your sacrifice for me.


    Nor the time to be alone. And the one who left in my place.


    In response to my words, the listener simply stared at me for a moment.


    I dared not fathom the deep, wise, old-growth tree-like gaze that had stood the test of time.


    Soon enough, a lot of anguish was contained in the short, difficult words.



    - You are courageous.


    - I am not.


    I rambled. It was a strange thing.


    I wondered if somehow, some piece of me that I didn't recognize matched them.


    It had been fifty days since I received the 'prophecy'.


    I was the first to learn to be silent, but in front of these men, the words I'd been saving in my heart for no one spilled out.


    - I had a very bad idea⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯.


    - A bad idea. Do you mind if I ask what you were thinking?


    - God, why did he give me this prophecy.......


    My voice trembled, and the raindrops on my shoulder grew a little stronger.


    The tears of the Reciter, sobbing under her breath, seemed to hold a poisonous glow.


    - It would have been better if he had given them to someone other than me.


    Our bodies vibrated against each other. The hand that stroked my hair trembled.


    Strangest of all, it was the reciter who wept, but it was I who was comforted and relieved by her cries.


    -So I thought, I wish I could see the autumn that will never come again, and welcome the winter....... such a selfish and mean thought.


     -You did.....


    The man I expected to be angry nodded languidly.


    The listener simply tilted his head and looked up at the statue.


    The marble statue's benevolent gaze was the same, looking down on all with impartiality.


    -Yes, you're right.......


    A blasphemous, unholy, strangely resentful affirmation shattered within the temple.


    - It was a prophecy that would have been much better received by either of us, as the Seeer said, for I suspect I'll be leaving soon, and not knowing the day is more frightening than it sounds.


    He did not call me selfish or mean-spirited.


    - If it had been given to me, I could have prepared for my departure without regret and longing.


    A smile of mercy, like that of a statue, was added to his aged lips.


    For a moment, I was overwhelmed by his easy grace.


    - I, I still don't know. I've spent my life trying to fulfill God's will, but God's will always remains elusive.


    Finally, the listener's head dropped.


    - Why, why, why....... Each time he asked, the answer became more elusive. Wasn't it the same for the Reciter?


    - Yes, he did.


    The voice, filled with tears, was still beautiful.


    The 'listener' let out a deep sigh.


    -Stop crying.


    -⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯Is it as easy as it sounds?


    - If you're crying like that, how do you think the seeer feel? There are people who really want to cry... but the 'reciter' is crying instead and can't say anything.




    The listener, with his tongue in his cheek, begged me for pardon.


    He then walked away with the reciter next to him.


    Soon the temple doors closed, and as usual, I was alone in this empty place.


    I was about to leave without looking back, but the piano under the statue caught my eye.


    It was just an instinct I couldn't overcome.


    Still unable to reject my fate as a "seeer," I approached the piano with a fascination.


    When I came to, I saw my reflection in the jet-black enamel.


    Angry at myself for doing so, I nervously hit the keys.


    Boom, an unmistakable sound filled the shrine.


    A terrible howl, constantly bouncing off the walls and spitting out echoes.


    But afterward, my hands, shaking with pain, began to move naturally.


    I could not bear the cacophony of my own creation, the imperfect worship of my god.


    My right hand moved. One finger produced the major chord, two the minor.


    My left hand moved. The accompaniment supporting the major and minor notes followed as if by default.


    Sounds that pushed back the cacophony that echoed in the temple.


    The left and right hands, which had been in constant conflict, were now in harmony.


    What began as dissonance gradually became a single melody.


    The moment when the left hand and the right hand, which were in constant disagreement, finally became a single harmony.


    A moment of perfection, the most beautiful music in the world.


    In the hour of its natural birth, I was finally able to answer the questions that had been bubbling up inside me.


    That no matter how much God says he doesn't love me, no matter how much he chooses to abandon me, I have no choice but to continue to love him.



    It broke my heart to continue to love one who did not love me, but I recognized him not by reason or emotion, but by instinct. It was a bondage and a snare that I could not escape, that I could not abandon.


    And.


    I wonder if you and I, who had been in such endless dissonance for so long, could achieve harmony, even if belatedly. You and I, too, could move forward like this.


    From cacophony to consonance, from disharmony to harmony. From division to unison.


    Like the miracle of the moment when something that was a mess became beautifully harmonized.


    ***


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Write a comment

Comments: 3
  • #1

    Lolwtin (Friday, 08 December 2023 07:38)

    Sorry, but I have a question: Are you my sister’s man translator?

  • #2

    Dora (Friday, 08 December 2023 07:39)

    @Lolwtin yes I am

  • #3

    Lolwtin (Friday, 08 December 2023 07:50)

    Oh. Was it deleted from Rain of Snow? Because I was wondering if you would repost it.