Chapter 7 Chapter 7 The Madman

The lunatic, the silk dyer of Lobanari, sat with his back against the mast, his arms around his knees, his head and neck drooping, curled up in a ball, his messy hair looked black in the moonlight.Sparrowhawk curled up in a blanket and slept in the stern.Neither of them moved.Arren sat in the bow, and he had sworn to watch all night himself.It was his personal choice if the mage wished to assume that this mad passenger would not surprise him or Arren in the dark of night.Arren preferred to have his own assumptions, and took care of it himself. But the night was very long and peaceful.The moonlight poured down, and there was no change.Sapley huddled against the side of the ship's mast, although the snoring was not loud, but it continued for a long time.Slowly the ship moved on, and at last even Arren fell asleep.He woke up once, looked at the moon, and saw that it was barely rising, so he gave up his self-promised guardianship and let himself sleep comfortably.

As on previous occasions of this voyage, he was dreaming again.The first dream was fragmented, but it was unbelievably sweet and solid.He first dreamed of a tree growing from the position of the mast of "Zhanyuan", with thick branches and leaves forming a circular arch.There are several swans flapping their powerful wings in front of the boat to lead the way.On the blue-green sea in the distance ahead, a city with many white towers is clearly visible.Then he was in one of the tall towers, climbing up the spiral staircase, running and climbing the stairs lightly and eagerly.These scenes change and reappear one after another, and bring out other scenes, but they all disappear without a trace.Suddenly, he was in a wilderness, surrounded by a terrifying twilight, and fear grew in him until it took his breath away.But he goes on because he has to go on.After walking for a long time, he finally understood that in this wilderness, "walking forward" means "going around in circles and returning to the original path".But he had to get out, got to go.The thought grew more urgent, and he began to run.But as soon as he ran, the circle narrowed inward, and the ground tilted up.In the increasingly dim light, he ran around the inner slope of a pothole, running faster and faster. The slope was like a huge whirlpool, sucking people into the darkness.When he realized this, he slipped and fell.

"Arren, what is the matter with you?" Sparrowhawk asked him from the stern.The sky is gradually revealing fish-belly, and the sea is calm. "fine." "Having a nightmare?" "nothing." Arren was cold, and his right arm was cramping and aching from being under his body, and he closed his eyes from the light, but he thought to himself, "He's always hinting at this and that, but never telling me exactly where I'm going and why to go, or why should I go. Now, he also brought the madman to go with him. Who is the madman and me, who is more crazy, to follow him? The two of them may understand each other, because he said that the crazy person now is Wizard. I could have stayed at home, in Berilla's palace, with carved walls, red-carpeted floors, and a fireplace to keep warm, and I could have gone hunting with my father when I woke up. Why should I be with him? Come? Why did he take me? He said, because this is the way I want to go, but that's wizard's talk, which says great things in grand terms, but often means something else. If I had a The way to go is to go home instead of wandering aimlessly in the Territory. At home, I have responsibilities, and now I am a evasive person. If he really thinks there is some enemy of witchcraft at work , why didn’t he come out by himself, but asked me to follow? He could bring another mage to assist him, there are many mages. He could also bring a team of warriors and a row of ships. As a result, the one sent on board was An old man and a boy, going to face great danger like this? Just nonsense. He's probably crazy. As he said, he's looking for death. He's looking for death, and he wants me to go with him. I'm not old yet, I don't want to die, I don't want to go with him."

He sat up on his elbows and looked ahead.The moon that had risen ahead of them when they had left the port of Ceusala was now ahead of them again, and was setting.To the east behind the ship, the sky was gray and gray.The sky was cloudless, but gloomy and gloomy.Later, the sun became hot, but not transparent, nor radiant. All day they sailed along the Lovanari coast, the low green coast always to their right.A breeze from land filled the sails.In the evening, after they passed the last long promontory, the breeze disappeared, and the sparrowhawk injected magic wind into the sails, and "Zhanyuan" flew forward like a falcon flying away from the wrist, and "Silk Island" Leave it behind.

Sapley, the silk dyer, huddled in the same place all day, obviously afraid of the ship and the sea, and the poor ship was seasick.At this time, he spoke in a hoarse voice: "Are we sailing west?" The setting sun was shining directly on his face, but Sparrowhawk was tolerant of his stupid question and nodded in response. "To the Isle of Oberjo?" "Isle of Oberhou is to the west of Lobanari." "It's far to the west. Maybe 'the place' is on that island." "What does 'the place' look like?" "How do I know? How could I see it? It's not in Lovanari! I've been looking for it for several years, four or five years. In the dark, at night, with my eyes closed, I always hear him calling: Come Oh, come on. I can't go. I'm not a good wizard who can see the way in the dark. But there is a place to go under the sun and in the daylight. Old Moody and my mother won't understand Yes, they kept searching in the dark. Then, old Moody died, and my mother went crazy. She forgot the witchcraft we used in silk dyeing, and it affected her brain. She wanted to die, but I told her to wait a while. Wait, wait until I find 'the place.' There must be a place. If the dead can be brought back to life, it must have happened somewhere in the world."

"Do the dead return to life?" "I thought you knew about such things." Sapley glanced at Sparrowhawk and paused. "I just want to know about it." Sapley didn't answer.The mage stared at him suddenly, it was focused and powerful, but his tone was soft: "Sapley, do you want to find a way to immortality?" Sapley also stared at the mage for a moment, then buried his disheveled auburn head in his arms, wrapped his hands around his ankles, and rocked back and forth.It seemed that as soon as he was afraid he became this way; and when he became this way he stopped talking and listened to no one else.Arren turned away in discouragement and disgust.How could they spend days or weeks with Supley in an eighteen-foot boat?That would be tantamount to sharing a body with a sick soul...

Sparrowhawk came to the bow of the ship, went to him, knelt on one knee on the beam of the ship, looked at the dusk, and said, "That man has a gentle heart." After hearing this, Arren didn't respond, and only asked indifferently: "What does Auberge do? I've never heard of that name." "I didn't know the name until I read the nautical chart. I know the place, but I don't know the details...Look over there, Gorbaden's companion star!" The crystal-yellow star hung high in the southern sky, and below it, a white star to the left and a blue-white star to the right, together illuminated the dark sea.Three stars form a triangle.

"Do they have names?" "The Master of Names doesn't know their names either. The inhabitants of Oberhou and Willegee may have named them, I don't know. Now, Arren, we are going to enter the strange under that 'Terminator' of the sea." The boy didn't answer, just stared at the nameless stars above the boundless ocean, with a disgusted expression on his face. The warmth of the southern spring covered the sea, and they sailed westward on it, day after day.The sky was clear, but it seemed to Arren that it was gloomy, as if the sunlight were slanting through glass.When swimming, the water is warm and not very refreshing.Pickled food is not tasty at all.Everything is unpleasant.Only at night, when the stars are getting brighter every day, he will lie down and watch until he falls asleep.As soon as I fell asleep, I dreamed, always dreaming of that wilderness, that pothole, or a valley surrounded by cliffs, or a long road downhill at a low altitude.And no matter where he dreamed, it was always very dark, and he was very scared inside, and he had no hope of escape.

He never mentioned these dreams to Sparrowhawk.He didn't tell Sparrowhawk about any of the important things, but only talked about the daily trivialities of the voyage.As for Sparrowhawk, he has always been distracted, and now he is more accustomed to being silent. Arren finally understood how foolish he was to entrust his body and mind to a man who was afraid and secretive.This man will only let his inner impulse rule him, he doesn't know how to control his own life, let alone save his own life.Judging from the current situation, he is already in an abnormal mood.Arren believed that the reason for the anomaly was that he did not dare to face his own failure—the witchcraft failed as a powerful force in the world.

Now, those of you who know the mysteries of witchcraft should be well aware that the magic that people like Sparrowhawk and sorcerers and wizards of all ages have used to gain fame and power doesn't really have much tricks to speak of.At most, those magics can only use wind, weather, medical herbs, etc., or cleverly display illusions such as fog, light, and deformation, but these skills are just tricks, and it is okay to bluff the ignorant.After all, the fact remains that witchcraft does not give a person real power over others, nor can it be used against death at all.Masters are no different from ordinary people, and they don't live longer.They have many knacks, but they can't even delay the approaching death for an hour.

Witchcraft is not to be trusted even in small matters.Sparrowhawks have always been stingy with their craft: they sail by the wind whenever they can; they fish for food and use water as sparingly as any sailor.After sailing for four days with intermittent headwinds, Arren asked Sparrowhawk if he would put a little wind in the sails, and Sparrowhawk shook his head, and he asked, "Why not?" "I would not ask a sick man to run a race," said Sparrowhawk, "nor add a stone to a burdened back." Arren did not know whether he meant himself, or the whole world.Every time Sparrowhawk answered the questions, he was always reluctant, and the answers were difficult to understand.This, Arren thought, was nothing more or less the essence of witchcraft: to suggest powerfully in meaning without saying anything; Arren had been trying to ignore Sapley, but it was impossible.And no matter what, he found out soon after sailing that he and that madman actually had a kind of ally relationship.Sapley's wild hair and broken speech made him appear crazy, but he wasn't really crazy--or rather, not quite crazy.Really, his craziest point is probably just the item of "fear of water".It had taken courage for him to come aboard, and his fear had never lessened.He kept his head down so that he didn't have to see the water heaving around him, or the flimsy hull of the ship.If he stood on the boat, he would faint, so he kept close to the mast.Sapley cried out in horror as Arren swam for the first time, throwing himself over the bow of the ship.When Arren climbed back into the boat, the poor man was livid with fright and said, "I thought you were trying to drown yourself." Arren could only laugh. In the afternoon, taking advantage of Sparrowhawk's opportunity to sit quietly and meditate, neither listening nor thinking, Sapley walked carefully along the ship's beam to Arren's side, and whispered, "You don't want to die, do you?" "of course not." "He wants to die," said Sapley, nodding his chin to the Sparrowhawk. "Why do you say that?" Arren spoke with style.For him, that was natural.Although Sapley was ten to fifteen years older than him, he took that tone as natural, and immediately replied politely—although it was incomplete as usual: "He wants to go...to the secret place. But, I don't understand why he ...don't...don't believe...that promise." "What promise?" Sapley raised his eyes and cast a piercing gaze on Arren, and there was something manly in his eyes-though his manliness was damaged.Yet Arren's will was stronger than his vision.Sapley replied in a low voice: "You know, it's life, eternal life." A great coolness flowed over Arren, reminding him of those dreams: wilderness, potholes, cliffs, dim light.That is death, the horror of death.The reason he must escape, must find a way, is to escape death.However, at the threshold stood a figure covered in black shadows, holding a gleam of light in its hand, that gleam was smaller than a pearl, and it was the gleam of immortal life.This time, for the first time, Arren met Sapley's gaze, pale brown eyes, quite clear.Arren saw in those eyes that he knew, and that Sapley knew a little as he did. "He," said Master Silk Dye, moving his chin towards Sparrowhawk, "he refuses to give up his name. No one can stick to his name from the beginning to the end, the road is too narrow." "Have you ever seen that road?" "I've seen it in the dark, in my head. But that's not enough. I want to go there and see the road with my own eyes. I also want to use my eyes to search for it in this world. In case... in case I What if you die and can't find the way, can't find the place? Most people can't find it, they don't even know it exists. And only some of us have power, but even if we have power, it's still Difficult, because you have to give up power to get there... no more spells, no more names. It's really too hard to do it in the head. Also, when you die, your mind dies." Every mention" The word "death" made him suffer once. "I wish I knew I'd come back. I wanted to go there, to life. I wanted to be alive. I wanted to be safe. I hate... I hate this sea..." The silk dye master retracted his limbs, just like a spider retracting its limbs when it falls.He especially hung his rigid head between his shoulders, so as to hide the vision of the sea. After that, Arren did not avoid the opportunity to talk, for he knew that Sapley not only saw as he did, but feared as well.That being the case, Sapley might be there to help him with the Sparrowhawk in case the worst happens. They sailed slowly westward in a calm breeze that came and went.Sparrowhawk pretended it was Sapley who was leading them, but it wasn't.Sapley knew nothing about the ocean, had never seen a chart, had never been on a boat, and was terrified of the sea.In fact, it was the mage who guided them, and the mage deliberately led them astray.Arren saw it now, and figured out why.The Archmage knew that they and others of their kind were looking for eternal life, and that some had been promised, and some were drawn toward that promise, which might at last be found.As an archmage, the pride and conceit in his heart made him worry that others might have gained eternal life. He was jealous of them and afraid of them, and he didn't want anyone to be more great than him.So he purposely sailed into the open sea, away from all lands, till they were so far away that they could not return to the world, and died of thirst there at last.He's going to die anyway, so he has to prevent others from gaining immortality. Sometimes during the voyage Sparrowhawk would tell Arren little things about how to steer, or swim with him in the warm sea, or say good night to him under the great star.But now, to the boy, none of that meant anything.Sometimes he looked at his companion, looked at his resolute, stern, and forgiving face, and thought to himself: "This is my master and friend." He seemed unable to believe that he could doubt this conclusion, but after a while, he again Feel suspicious, and then exchange glances with Sapley, warning each other to be more careful about this common enemy. Although the sun is hot every day, it is monotonous.Its light lay like a false decoration on the swaying water.The sea was blue, and so was the sky, without variation or shade.The breeze came and went, and they had to turn the sails to meet it, and so on, slowly to infinity. One afternoon they finally caught up with a mild tailwind.At sunset, Sparrowhawk pointed to the sky and said, "Look." There was a row of sea geese flying across the sky above the ship's mast. On the whole, it looked like a black mysterious symbol swinging in the sky and flying westward. "Zhanyuan" followed, and a large piece of land could be seen the next day. "That's it," Sapley said. "The island, we have to go there." "The place you are looking for is on that island?" "Yes. We must go ashore. That's as far as we can go." "This land must be the Oberhou Island. Beyond that, there is the Welage Island in the southern border area. There are many West End islands to the west of the Welage Island. Sapley, are you sure this is it?" The silk dyer in Lobanari heard this and became so angry that his usual flinching was in his eyes, but he didn't sound crazy when he spoke, Arren thought, at least not like in Lobanari so many days ago. Island was so crazy when he first talked to him. "Yes, we must go ashore, and we've sailed far enough. This is the place we're looking for. I know it's right here. Do you want me to swear? Do you want me to swear on my name?" "No." Sparrowhawk looked up at Sapley, who was taller than him, and said sharply.Sapley had stood up, clutching the mast, looking at the land ahead. "Sapley, don't swear indiscriminately." Master Silk Dye frowned, as if in anger or pain.He stared at the front of the ship, the distant blue mountains floating on the undulating and trembling water, and said: "You asked me to be a guide, I said this is here, we must go ashore." "We're going ashore anyway, and we need water," said the Sparrowhawk, walking to the tiller.Sapley sat down in the old seat beside the mast, muttering.Arren heard him say, "By my name, by my name." He said it several times, and each time he frowned as if in pain. With the north wind blowing, they barely approached the island, and then drove along the coast, looking for a bay or a landing.However, under the blazing sun, only the roar of the waves was heard hitting the north shore.The green mountains inland baked in the same sun, their slopes covered with green trees reaching to their summits. Rounding a headland, they finally saw a deep half-moon bay with a white sandy beach.Because the waves are held back by the headland, the sea is calm and seems to be able to anchor the boat.Only the beach and the forest above the beach are completely invisible, and there are no boats, house roofs, and cooking smoke. As soon as "Zhanyuan" enters the bay, the breeze stops, and the bay is quiet and hot.Arren rowed and Sparrowhawk steered.The only sound is the sound of the oars turning in the paddles.Above the bay, green peaks stand between them, and the sun spreads patches of white-hot light on the water.Arren could hear the blood thumping in his own ears.Sapley had left the safe side of the mast, crawled on the bow, clutched the gunnel nervously, and stared forward at the land.Sparrowhawk's dark, scarred face was glistening with sweat, as if oiled.His eyes kept scanning the low waves of the sea and the tree-covered cliffs. "There," he said to Arren and the ship.Three times Arren rowed hard and sharply, and Far Away lightly touched the sand.Sparrowhawk leaped overboard and, with the last momentum of the waves, pushed the boat ashore.Pushing with both hands together, he stumbled and nearly fell, leaning on the stern of the boat to steady himself.He pulled harder, pulling the boat into the waves that were turning back outward.When the ship was suspended between the ocean and the coast, Sparrowhawk quickly jumped over the side of the ship and jumped into the ship. "Shut!" He shouted while gasping for breath, profusely breathing while profusely sweating on all fours.He was holding a spear—a two-foot throwing spear with a copper tip.Where did that brass spear come from?As Arren froze with the oars in hand, another throwing spear flew, and the point of the spear flew out, and it struck the beam of the ship, splitting the beams, and the point of the spear ricocheted upside down.Under the trees on the low cliffs far from the beach, there are many figures, some running and jumping, some lying low.There were soft whistles and swishes in the air.Arren dropped his head sharply to his chest, arched his back and rowed hard, two or three strokes across the shallows, turned the bow, and sailed away from the shore. Sapley yelled from the prow behind Arren.Arren felt his arms being seized, so suddenly that the oars jumped out of the water, and the thicker end of one struck him in the hollow of his stomach, blinding his eyes and stopping his breath for a moment. "Turn back! Turn back!" Sapley yelled, and suddenly the boat swayed and hit the rocks.Arren regained his senses and grabbed the oar, turning his head in a rage. Sapley was not on board. All around, the dark waters of the bay undulate and sparkle in the sun. Arren froze, and when he turned his head again, he saw Sparrowhawk lying prostrate at the stern. "He's over there." Sparrowhawk pointed to the side, but where he pointed, there was nothing but sea water and dazzling sunlight. A spear, attached to a throwing stick, was thrown a few yards away from the hull, and disappeared soundlessly into the water.Arren took another ten or twelve strokes to get the ship back out to sea, and he took one more look at the Sparrowhawk. Sparrowhawk had blood on both hands and left arm, and held a small ball of canvas against his shoulder in one hand.On the plank of the ship lay the tip of a bronze spear.When Arren had glimpsed him holding a spear just now, it must have been not he who held it, but the pointed point of the spear was thrown into the shoulder, and the spear stood in the wound where it had been pierced.Sparrowhawk was looking at the area between the sea water and the white sand beach, where some small figures swayed and jumped in the steaming heat. At last he said, "Keep rowing." "Sapri he—" "He didn't jump aboard." "Drown?" asked Arren in disbelief. Sparrowhawk nodded. Arren rowed on until the sand was a white line across the forest and the tall green peaks.Sparrowhawk sat at the helm, still holding the canvas against his shoulder, but paid no attention to it. "Was he shot with a spear?" "He dived himself." "But he...he can't swim. He's afraid of water!" "Well. Very frightened. He wants--he wants to go to land." "Why are those people attacking us? Who are they?" "They must think we are enemies. Can you... help me with this wound?" Arren saw that the canvas covering his shoulders was soaked and brightly colored. The spear hit between the shoulder socket and the neck bone and pierced a large blood vessel, so the blood flowed continuously.At Sparrowhawk's instruction, Arren tore a linen tunic into strips, which he used as a makeshift bandage for his wounds.Sparrowhawk said he wanted the spear, and Arren put it on his knee, and he stretched out his right hand over the blade.The sharp blade is as narrow and long as a willow leaf, and it is roughly made of bronze.Sparrowhawk pretended to cast a spell, but after a moment he shook his head and said, "I don't have the strength to cast it now, so take it easy. The wound should be all right. Arren, can you get the boat out of the bay?" The boy walked back to the oars silently, arching his back to begin the task.His well-proportioned and soft body was quite powerful, and soon he brought "Zhan Yuan" away from the half-moon bay and into the empty ocean.The long noon calm of the Territory blanketed the ocean, and the sails drooped.In the hot air, the sun shines mercilessly, and the green mountain tops seem to shake and dance in the heat.The Sparrowhawk lay prostrate on the planks, his head resting on the beams by the tiller.He lay motionless, with his lips and eyelids half-closed.Arren didn't want to see his face, so he stared hard at the stern.The hot air swayed on the water, as if the whole sky was full of spider webs.His arms were shaking with fatigue, but he kept paddling. "Where did you row?" Sparrowhawk sat up a little and asked hoarsely. Arren turned his head and saw the half-moon bay stretching its green arms around the ship again, the white beach line ahead again, and the mountains clustered above them.It turned out that he turned the boat in a big circle and came back without knowing it. "I can't go on," said Arren, dropping his oars, and went to fall down in the bow.He kept thinking that Supley was just behind him, by the mast of the ship.They had been together for several days, and now they died so suddenly, there was no reason at all.Nothing makes sense. Ships float on the water with sails hanging from the masts.As the tide began to flow into the bay, the ship's side slowly turned to the tide entering the bay, pushing inward bit by bit, to the white beach line in the distance. "'Zhanyuan'." The mage comfortingly called the name of the ship, and then spoke a few words in the ancient language. The ship shook slightly, and then slowly slid out, crossed the bright sea water, and left the bay. But within an hour, she stopped moving slowly again, and the sails drooped again.Arren looked back into the ship, and saw his companion lying as before, but with his head thrown back a little, and his eyes closed. Now Arren felt a heavy, nauseous fear, and the fear grew in him, until he could no longer move, as if his body were entangled in strings, and his mind was dulled.There was no courage within him to resist the fear, just a vague feeling of resentment that made him begin to resent the bad luck. He shouldn't have let the ship adrift here, for it was near the jagged coast, and there was a pack on the coast land that would attack strangers.He knew the stakes very well in his heart, but the stakes didn't make much sense.What else?Should he row the boat back to Roke Isle?He was at a loss, completely hopelessly lost in the vast Frontier Region.The ship had been sailing for weeks, and now he couldn't get it to any of the friendly islands.Only by relying on the mage's guidance could it be done, but Sparrowhawk was wounded and helpless—his injury was as sudden and senseless as Sapley's death.Looking at his face, it is not the same as before, it has become loose and yellow, and he may be dying.It occurred to Arren that he should move the Sparrowhawk under the awning, where he would be sheltered from the sun, and give him water to drink.People who have lost blood need to drink water.But they've been without water for days, and the buckets are almost empty.What does it matter if you don't drink water?Anyway, everything is dead, it's useless.Luck is gone. As the hours passed and the sun was sinking, and the heat of the evening enveloped Arren, he sat still. A cool breeze brushed his forehead.He looked up, it was night, the sun had set, and the western sky was a dull red.The breeze was blowing from the east, and Zhanyuan moved slowly, on the outskirts of Oberhou Island, around the steep wooded coast. Arren turned on the ship to attend to his companions.He put the Sparrowhawk in a makeshift bed under the awning and gave him water to drink.Arren was quick on his hands and feet, and kept his eyes from the bandage—it was time for a change, for the wound kept bleeding.The frail Sparrowhawk did not speak, and even closed his eyes as he eagerly drank water.Probably after drinking the water, I became thirstier and fell asleep again.Arren lay still, and when the breeze died again in the darkness, no spellwind to replace it, and the ship loafed again on the calm and swaying sea.At this time, the mountains on the right hand side were pitch-black, with a magnificent star-studded sky against the background.Arren gazed at them for a long time, and the outlines seemed familiar to Arren, as if he had seen them before, as if he had known them all his life. When he lay down to sleep, his face was facing south, and he could see in that direction, high above the black sea, the bright star Gorbaden.Below the Gobaden star, there are two other stars that form a triangle. Under the two stars, another straight line rises to form a larger triangle.Then, as the night deepened, two other stars jumped out of the horizontal plane composed of black and silver.They were also yellow, similar to Gorbaden's, only lighter, slanting from right to left from the base triangle above.From this point of view, these eight stars are eight of the nine stars.It is said that the nine stars form a human form, or the "Agnam Talisman" in the Hittite language.As far as Arren's eyes could see, there was no one in the world who looked like the star-figure, and if he did he was strangely twisted.However, this shape has a hooked arm and a horizontal stroke. It is obvious that it is a rune. The only difference is its feet: it still needs the last stroke to be considered complete, and the star has not yet risen from the sea. Arren waited to see the star, and fell asleep. When he woke up at dawn, "Zhanyuan" had drifted away from Oberhou Island.Fog obscured the coast of the island, and only the tops of the mountains were visible.Above the blue-purple sea in the south, where the fog is thinner, the last few stars are still shining faintly. He looks at his companion.Sparrowhawk's breath was uneven, like the pain that burrowed under the surface of sleep, trying to interrupt his breath but couldn't.His face was lined and aged in the cold, shadowless light.Arren looked at him, and saw a man with no power, no wizardry, no strength, no youth even, nothing.He did not save Sapley, nor did he deflect the spear that had been shot at him.It was he who led them into danger, but did not save them.Now Sapley was dead, and he himself was dying, and Arren would die too.It was the man's fault that he got so nowhere, so futile. So Arren looked at the Sparrowhawk with those clear eyes of despair, but saw nothing. None of these memories of the fountain under the sorrel tree, the white spelllight of the slave ship in the mist, or the decaying arboretum of the silk dyed house disturbed him.Nor was there any pride or tenacity aroused in him.He looked out at the calm ocean, shaded by the dawn.The low but large ripples on the sea surface are dyed with color, which looks like light-colored amethyst, as light and weak as in a dream, without the attraction or vitality of "reality".Trapped deep in this dream and ocean, I feel nothing but the chasm, the void.Not even depth. The boat moved forward according to the whims of the sea wind, not only stopping from time to time, but also at a slow speed.The peaks of Oberhou shrunk to black dots behind the boat, and behind them the rising sun.The sea breeze blows over, taking the boat away from the land, away from the world, and into the open sea.