Глава 11

The children will perform the final scene in a few days, won't they?

...Absolutely.

There sure are lots of possibilities, so long as the conclusion of the story hasn't yet been told.

But even a play that's been performed can be changed. People always look for the latest.

You've been watching for a long time, haven't you?

The stage is right here. Why don't we start from the beginning, from act one?

Everyone dreams about how things would have been, if none of this had happened.

'What ifs' mean nothing.

But if there is even a remote possibility...

Why don't you join us on stage, sir?

Good morning, sir! There is a look of concern on your face. Is something worrying you?

The horn of victory has blown atop the walls for three days and nights, but why do I feel uneasy?

Has our great general not returned triumphant? Praise his bravery and fearlessness!

Bravery? Fearlessness? Perhaps.

A call to arms united our spirit, but the price was ruin and hate.

You should have served a king, but you gave your loyalty to a thief.

The mysterious spectator takes a step forward, his gaze moving from his counterpart to the distance.

He is not building up tension, but recalling memories of another battlefield, memories that have lain dormant for too long.

It is not a king that I serve, but honesty and courage.

Destruction awaits, if you stay on this path.

The destruction of the individual is nothing, compared to having to watch a tyrant bring this country to ruin.

How do you know her end, sir?

I can predict her end, as I know her beginning.

How could you reminiscence about the past, young as you are?

Who can keep the sun from setting? Such desires are the greatest greed.

I have seen countless acts of madness performed in the name of preserving this glory. They turn to banditry, or fight amongst themselves, ultimately accelerating the decay of this country.

'Molly' turns around onstage, takes a few steps, then turns back, hiding her face in the shadows.

But her counterpart speaks first. His expression is calm, like water undisturbed. He shifts his hands, then crosses them.

They will not admit that those who fall try to cling to the sunlight, but grasp only lightning.

Must they accept their fall?

They can choose to not look back at the peak.

If they would turn their gaze around, they would realize that it is no abyss lying before them, but fertile earth in which infinite possibilities lie.

You say the abyss can be conquered? You do not know the truth of the abyss, nor do you understand that time is short.

The abyss lies before us. We can fill it with flesh, and burn the remnants with blood, leaving behind wide open fields for those who come after.

Only when the ashes of old are blown away can a new crop grow on the field, to feed the next generation.