Chapter 10 Chapter 10: Long Residence in the Islets

In the bright and cool morning on the outermost sea in the west, the archmage of the "Island of the Wise" woke up.After sleeping in the narrow space of the boat all night, his limbs became stiff. He sat up straight and yawned.After a while, he pointed to the north, and said to his yawning companion, "Over there! Have you seen the two small islands, they are the two southernmost islands of Longju Islets." "Your eyes are worthy of the eagle's, Master," said Arren, and his eyes, wide and sleepy, looked into the sea, but saw nothing. "That's why it's called 'Sparrowhawk'." The mage said, still looking happy, as if to shake off all the predicted situations. "Can you see them?"

"I see gulls," said Arren.This was his conclusion after rubbing his eyes and carefully searching the blue-gray sea in front of the ship. The mage laughed. "Even if it's an eagle, can it possibly see a seagull twenty miles away?" And as the mists of the eastern sky were gradually lightened by the sun, the thin specks that Arren had seen moving in the air seemed to shimmer one by one, like golden dust shaken on the sea, or like fine dust blown up against the sun.At last Arren understood that the spots were many dragons. "Zhanyuan" gradually approached the island, and Arren saw those dragons soaring in the morning wind, spinning and circling, and his heart jumped up happily with them. It was a kind of joy and satisfaction similar to pain.All the glory of the world is in those soars.Their beauty combines extreme vigor, sheer wildness, and rational allure—for they are creatures of thought, language, and ancient intelligence.There is a fierce, controlled harmony in the many patterns of their soaring.

Though Arren said not a word, he thought to himself that it will not matter what happens later, for he has seen the dragons dance in the morning wind. Occasionally, the pattern of their flying changes, and when the circle is broken, there is often a dragon that shoots a long tongue of flame from its nostrils, and the tongue of flame is suspended in the air, completing the brilliant curve of the long and narrow curled dragon body.Upon seeing this, the mage said: "They are angry, dancing their anger in the air." Not long after, he said again: "We are now in the bumblebee's nest." Because these dragons had seen the small sails above the waves, one by one they burst out of the flying whirlwind, stretching their bodies, Swinging their giant wings, they flew straight towards the small boat.

The mage took a special look at Arren sitting at the helm of the boat, as the turbulent waves were going in the opposite direction.The boy's eyes watched the beating wings, but he kept the helm steady.The Sparrowhawk standing by the mast seemed quite satisfied, so he turned his head, eliminated the magic wind from the sail, raised his witch staff, and spoke loudly. Hearing his voice and hearing his words in the ancient language, some dragons turned halfway and scattered back to their isles.But some stopped and hovered in the air, their sword-like forearms and claws stretched out, but they were somewhat restrained.One of them lowered its flying height first, and then continued to fly towards them slowly—it took only two wings to spread, and it came to the top of their heads, its armor-like belly almost touching the mast of the ship.Arren saw the wrinkled flesh between its two inner capes.This area and the eyes are the dragon's only weak points—unless attacked with a powerful spear.Arren choked on smoke belching from the long, toothed mouth; and with it came a stench like carrion that made him cringe and retch.

The shadow is gone.It turned out that the dragon had turned around and flew back as low as when it came.This time, Arren felt the dragon's breath before the smoke rose--it was like the wrought-iron Foehn.He heard the voice of the sparrowhawk speaking, clear and fierce.As soon as that dragon left, the rest of the dragons followed suit.The whole flock of wyverns floated back to the island in a gust of wind like fiery red wrought iron slag. Arren watched with bated breath, and wiped his sweaty brow.Looking back at his companion, he caught a glimpse of his hair all white: the dragon's breath had crisped the sparrowhawk's ends.The heavy canvas of the sail, also scorched on one side.

"Your hair is a little burnt, boy." "And you too, Master." Sparrowhawk raised his hand and scratched his head, startled. "No! That's rude. I don't want to argue with these creatures, though. They're probably pissed off, or confused. They didn't talk just now. I've never met a dragon that made the move without first saying so." Attack—unless the dragon intends to torment its prey—well, we must go on. Don't look into their eyes, Arren, and turn your head away if you must. We'll sail on the wind again, for The wind happens to be blowing from the south, and I may need to do other things with my witchcraft. You will take care of the boat while it sails."

"Zhanyuan" continued to sail forward, and soon, a small island was visible in the distance on the left, and on the right was the twin islands that they had seen from a distance from the beginning.The cliffs of the two islands are low, and the treeless rocks are white with excrement--the excrement of the dragons, and the black-crowned terns who nest fearlessly among the dragons. The dragons galloped, spinning high in the air to form a circle shape like vultures looking for food, but none of them swooped down on the ship again.They call each other occasionally, their voices are high and strict, piercing the space.Arren would not have understood their aggressive chatter if they were talking.

As the ship rounded a short headland, Arren saw something on the shore, which at first he thought was a ruined castle—and it turned out to be a dragon.One of its wings is bent and pressed under its body, and the other wing is stretched out on the sand and submerged in the sea, so that the tide that comes and goes always has a mockery of defeat, slightly tugging at that wing.The snake-like long and narrow torso of the dragon body lay entirely on the rocks and sand, one front leg was missing, the scales and muscles on the arches of the limbs were torn, and the intestines were torn apart, and the nearby sand was poisonous. Dragon blood stained black.However, the creature is still alive, which shows that the dragon's vitality is strong, and only when it encounters witchcraft of comparable strength can it kill it quickly.The green-gold eyes were still open, and the big, lean head moved a little as the boat passed by, and the nostrils hissed and spurted blood at the same time.

The sandy beach between the dying dragon and the sea bears the claws and body marks of its kind, with the guts of the dying dragon trampled into the sand. Neither Arren nor Sparrowhawk spoke as they sailed past the coast of the isle, and then through the choppy straits of the Dragonhomes, advancing toward the two chains of islets.There are reefs and torts everywhere in the straits of Longju Zhuyu. Sparrowhawk said: "The scene just now was really horrible." His voice was sad and cold. "Do they... eat their own kind?" "No, they don't eat as much as us humans. What you're seeing is because they were driven mad and lost their language. They can speak before humans. old, and now reduced to a frightful and unspeakable beast. Ah Kailasim! where did your wings take you? Do you still live to see your kind suffer such disgrace?" He threw up his head. Searching the sky, asking questions, sounds echoing like iron.But in the sky, only those dragons behind the boat were circling over the island of Craggy Robb and the coast stained with dragon blood. Apart from them, there was only the blue sky and the sun at noon.

Except for this great mage, no living person has ever sailed a boat in the straits of Longju Zhuyu.More than 20 years ago, the archmage once sailed such a long distance alone from east to west, and then back to east.For a sailor, that voyage was both a nightmare and a miracle.The waterways here are like a labyrinth of blue straits and green sandbars. Now, the mage and Arren rely on spells, bare hands, and extreme caution to move forward among these crags and reefs.Rocks and reefs, some low and some high.The shallow ones, some lie completely under the lapping waves and cannot be seen, some are half exposed, and the exposed parts are covered with anemones, barnacles, slender sea ferns, etc., which look like sea monsters - shelled or deformed and twisted sea ​​monster.As for the towering reefs, they become cliffs and perilous peaks on the sea, some with full arches, some with half arches, some with carved pagodas, and some with wonderful animal shapes: pig’s back, snake’s head, etc., but no matter what kind of animal they look like, they are all huge, Deformed, loose, as if consciously struggling and twisting in these rocks in life.The waves beat against these rocks, making a sound like breathing, and the pieces were soaked by bright and fierce splashes.There is a rock like this in the south. It is obvious that a human figure can be seen. This person is quite noble with a humped back and a big head.However, when the ship passed by and looked from the back of the rock in the north, all the characteristics of the human figure disappeared, and it merged with other rocks to form a cave. words or strings of syllables.They went on, and the roar died away, but the syllables were distinct, and Arren said, "Is there a sound in that cave?"

"The sound of the sea." "But it seems to be talking." Sparrowhawk listened, glanced at Arren, and then back to the cave. "What do you sound like?" "It sounds like 'Om'." "In the ancient language, 'Om' means 'beginning' or 'a long time ago'. But I sound like 'Hum', which is a way of expressing 'end'—you pay attention to the front!" Sparrowhawk fell silent; Arren warned him, too. "There are sandbanks!" Although "Zhan Yuan" was like a kitten in a dangerous situation, carefully choosing the way, but for a long time, the two of them were still busy steering the boat.So, the cave that was always rumbling with a certain literal meaning was gradually left behind. At this time, the sea became deeper, and they had already emerged from the ever-changing rock groups, and a giant tower-like island stood majestically in front of them.Its rock walls are black, extruded by countless columns or platforms, with straight edges and flat surfaces, protruding from the sea to a height of three hundred feet. "That is the Tower of Kailasim," said the mage. "When I came here many years ago, those dragons told me the name when they talked to me." "Who is Kailashin?" "Among the dragons, the oldest one—" "Did he build this place?" "I don't know. I don't know if this place was built, and I don't know how old he is. Although I use the personal name of 'he', I really don't know . . . In Racine's eyes, Aum Amba is like a little boy who just turned one year old, while you and I are like mayflies." Sparrowhawk scrutinized the stunning rock walls.Arren looked up at them restlessly, imagining how a dragon would come down from the edge of that high black cliff and come over them, its shadow almost covering them.But no dragon appeared.They slowly passed the back of the rock. Because the sea wind blows down here, the water surface is calm and there is no sound, only the murmur of the shadowed sea blowing against the rock pillar.Here the sea was deep, and there were no reefs or tors, and Arren was at the helm, and Sparrowhawk stood at the prow, searching the crags and bright sky ahead, hoping to see Kailassim. The ship finally passed the vast shadowy sea of ​​the "Castle of Kailasin" and entered the evening sun.When they were crossing the Yuelongju Islets, the mage raised his head, with the expression of a person who saw the target—the big golden sun in front of him passed, and it was Aum Anba who soared with golden wings. Arren heard Sparrowhawk calling to him, "Aro Kelassim?" He could guess the meaning of the words, but not what the dragon answered.However, when he heard the Archaic language, he always felt that he was on the borderline of understanding and almost understanding, as if it was a language he once knew but now forgot, rather than a language he never knew.When the mage spoke the ancient language, his voice was much clearer than when he spoke the Hehe language, and there seemed to be an atmosphere of silence, like the light touch of a big bell.But the dragon's voice was like a gong, deep and sharp; or rather, like the grinding of cymbals. As Arren watched his companion standing on the narrow prow of the ship, talking to the gigantic creature that hovered above him, covering half the sky, he understood how small, how fragile, and yet how terrible man is.Thinking of this, he couldn't help feeling a sense of pride in his heart.For that dragon might have torn the head and shoulders of the man beneath him with a single swipe of its clawed feet; it might have sunk the ship like a stone sinks a floating leaf— — if "size" is the only key.But Sparrowhawk was as dangerous as Orm Ambar, and the dragon knew that. The mage turned to him and called, "Lebannen." Although the boy did not want to get close to the two fifteen-foot-long upper and lower jaws, and the yellow-green eyes with narrow pupils that stared at him from the air—not even a step away. Neither wanted to get close, but he still got up and moved forward. Sparrowhawk said nothing to him, but put a hand on his shoulder, and continued speaking briefly to the dragon. "Lebannin," said the dragon's great voice, but without enthusiasm. "Agnes Lebanin!" Arren looked up, and the mage's hand pressed down, reminding him, so he didn't look into those yellow-green eyes. Arren could not speak the Old Tongue, but he was not dumb. "My greetings to you, Om'an Ba ​​[Dragon Lord]," he said clearly, like a prince greeting another prince. There was a moment of silence, Arren's heart beating fast and with difficulty.But the Sparrowhawk standing beside him smiled. Then the dragon spoke again, and Sparrowhawk answered.This time Arren thought it was longer.Finally, suddenly, it was over.I saw the dragon fluttering its wings and flying upwards. It almost didn't overturn the boat, and flew away.Arren looked at the sun, and saw that it did not sink any lower, so that the time had not really lasted very long.The wizard's face was pale, though, and his eyes shone brightly as he turned to Arren.He sat down in the rower's seat. "Son, you're doing well," he said hoarsely. "It's really not easy to talk to dragons." Arren had prepared food for them both—they had not eaten all day.The mage didn't speak again until he finished eating and drinking.At that time, the sun had just set on the sea level.Although the latitude here is already northerly, but because the summer solstice has just passed, the night comes slowly and late. "Well," he finally said, "Om Amba told me many things in his way. He said that the man we were looking for was in the Isle of Celedo, but he was not in the Isle of Celedo either... It's not easy to get a dragon to talk straight. They're not honest by nature. Even if one of them tells the truth to someone, that person has no way of knowing how true that truth is to a person. Of course they rarely tell the truth to people. That's why I asked him: "Is it the same as what happened to your ancestor Omron on the island of Keledo?" Because as you know, Omron and Eriabad died there in the battle. As a result, he replied: "No, yes. You will find him on the Isle of Celedor, but not on the Isle of Celedor." Sparrowhawk paused in thought, chewing on a crust of hard bread. "Perhaps he meant that the man was not in the Isle of Celedon, but I must go there to find him, and perhaps... I asked him about the other dragons, and he said that the man had intruded among them. , not afraid of them at all, because although he was killed, he was resurrected from the dead zone, and he still lived in his body. Therefore, the dragons were afraid of him, and regarded him as a kind of creation other than nature. Their fear in turn endowed The man retained the power of witchcraft over them. And he took away the Word of Creation that those dragons spoke, and left them tormented by their wild nature. So they devoured each other, or killed themselves, and threw themselves into the sea—"Drop into "Going into the sea" is the last way they want to die, because they are "pyroliths", the beasts of wind and fire. Then I said, "Kerasim, your dragon head?" To this question, it will only answer: "In the west." It may mean that Kailasim flew to other lands, and the other lands, said the dragons, are farther than where the ships sailed to. But "in the west" may not mean that. So I didn't ask any more questions. Instead, he started asking me, but the first thing he said was: "I flew to Keltu Island and then returned north. I passed the Torin Gap. I saw the villagers on the altar in the sky above Keltu Killed a baby on a stone. Watched a sorcerer stoned to death by the townspeople over the Isle of Ingat. Did they even devour babies? Ged, what do you see? Stone?" I thought he was mocking me, and I was almost angry. But he was not mocking, because he said again: "Reason has escaped from things. There is a hole in the world, and the sea flows through it. The light is also fading away. , We will be abandoned on the dry land, and it seems that there will be no more words, and no more death." After hearing the last juncture, I finally understood what he was going to tell me." But Arren didn't know, and besides not knowing, he was worried.Because, when retelling the dragon's words just now, Sparrowhawk had already used his "real name" to call himself directly, and it was unmistakable.At this point, Arren suddenly remembered the scream of the painful woman in Lobanari: "My name is Aklan!" If the power of human witchcraft, music, language, and trust is all weakening and withering ;if a frightening madness is approaching them, so that the dragons are robbed of reason and turn to attack and kill each other... If so, can his master escape?Is he strong enough? Sparrowhawk sat down, eating his supper of bread and smoked fish.His hair was charred and gray, his hands were thin and his face was tired, and he didn't look powerful. But the dragon was afraid of him. "Son, what's bothering you?" To get along with the mage, only speaking the truth will work. "Master, you just said your real name." "Ah, yes. I forgot I never mentioned my real name. You'll need to know my real name when we get where we must go." He looked up at Arren, chewing his food. "Do you think I'm old enough to give away my real name by accident? Like an old fool, brainless and ugly? I'm not there yet, boy!" "No," said Arren, but his thoughts were too confused to say anything.He was tired, it had been a long day, he had met dragons, and the road ahead was darkening. "Arren—" said the wizard, "no, Lebannin, there is nothing to hide where we are going, and there everything bears its true name." "The dead cannot take harm anyway," said Arren quietly. "The place where people give each other their own names is not only there, not only the dead zone. There are also those who are most likely to be hurt and most vulnerable, like people who give love but don't ask for anything in return. They call each other by their real names; and Loyalist, life giver - you're exhausted, boy. Lie down and sleep. There's nothing to do now but keep on sailing. Tomorrow morning we'll see the last island on earth .” There was infinite tenderness in his voice.Arren fell asleep almost immediately as soon as he curled up in the bow of the ship.But he heard the mage chanting softly, almost in a whisper, not in Hittite but in the "Talk of Creation."When he was finally about to understand and remember the meaning of those words, before he really understood, he fell into a deep sleep. The mage quietly collected the bread and bacon, checked the ropes of the boat, and prepared everything in the boat. Then, holding the sail indicator, he sat behind the beam and chanted spells to enhance the spell wind of the sail.The tireless "Zhanyuan" accelerates towards the north, flying across the ocean like a fast arrow. He gazed down at Arren.The boy's face was turned golden red by the long-lasting sunset, and his disheveled hair was blown by the sea breeze.By the fountain of the Hongxuan Pavilion, the boy with a gentle and relaxed appearance and the appearance of a king disappeared. The boy's face in front of him was thinner, firmer, and much stronger; but his beauty remained the same. "I have never found anyone to go with me," Archmage Ged said aloud to the sleeping boy, or to the empty sea-breeze. "There is no one but you. And you must do your way, not me. The way. But your future kingship is wise, partly my wisdom. For I was the first to discover you, I was the first to discover you! Someday—if there is another day—the world will praise me for this, and surpass me The actions of a living mage—first of all, you and I must stand at the point of balance—that is, the fulcrum of the world. If I fall, you will fall, and the rest will all fall. Even there, there will be Stars... oh, I long to see you crowned at Havnor, I long to see the sun shine on the Tower of the Ancient Sword, and shine on the ring that Tenar and I brought you back from the dark tomb of Etuan together. When we brought you back that year, you were not yet born!" After he finished speaking, he laughed, turned to face the north, and said to himself in Mandarin: "The little sheep-herding boy actually overstepped and put the heir of Morrid on the throne! Am I never going to learn how to be good?" Soon, holding the guideline in his hand, he watched the full-swelling sails reddened by the last rays of the setting sun, and he began to speak softly to himself again: "I will not go to Havnor, and I will not go to Roke Isle. It should be It's time to let go of the power, leave this old toy behind, and go on to the next step. It's time to go home. I'm going to see Tenar. I'm going to see Ogion. I'm going to see Ogion with him in Riaba, before he dies. Gossip at home on the cliffs of the town. I long for walks in the hills, the peaks of Gont, the forests, the autumn leaves, no kingdom equals those forests. It is time to go back there, quietly and alone. Perhaps I There, I can finally learn something that I have not learned so far, and what action and strength cannot teach me." The entire western sky is red and dazzling, extremely magnificent.The sea turned dark red, and the sails on the sea were as red as blood.Then, the night quietly covered up.That whole night, the boy fell asleep and the man woke up, staring straight ahead into the darkness.There are no stars there.