Глава 14

Or alternatively... 'Chimeras'.

Who are you even mourning for?

For these mindless kin, or for yourself – the Chimera forced to wear a crown?

(Roars)

The fight is about to begin.

Amiya, are you being affected in any way?;Damn, more Confessarius witchcraft!

Doctor, I won't let the Confessarii trap me a second time.

I'm not so fragile as to let these illusions and nightmares get to me. That name, 'Chimera', is no different from those dream-interrogations. I've heard it many times before.

I have no right to be here, if I let myself get shaken by that.

Beyond that, however... I swore that I'd never let my immaturity drag you down again.

A tiny crown appears above the head of the Cautus girl.

Black lines interweave and take form between her fingers.

Your connection with the King is deepening.

Perhaps...

But, it might not be enough.

...Amiya.

Don't be in such a hurry to leave.

These clones are nothing before my incantations, Damazti.

Or, as you once put it, 'it is time wasted'.

We remember. That performance, and that stroll.

We talked for quite some time.

That day you at least still considered yourself a lord of the Royal Court, despite having a different appearance.

What are you now?

We try to take on different identities.

But, these varying journeys have yet to provide us with an answer.

What we conclude is, the path has neither beginning nor end. It is a cycle.

And you sought out death to prove it.

At death's end, is nothingness.

The myriad souls you speak of have said nothing to us.

Banshee, how did it feel to sound the bone whistle for us?

'Shatter'.

There's no end to them.

This is all you can muster? You've lost a lot of bite after your first death.

The clone, destroyed by the incantation, does not dissipate into nothingness as before.

Instead, that body simply collapses, sinking into the Originium tides until it quickly disappears without a trace.

From it, a hand resembling a withered branch extends from within the crystal cluster.

'Sudaram'.

Banshee... You once killed me as well.

On the battlefield, I am not one of you.

In Kazdel, I was ordered to kill those who betrayed the Royal Court.

You got in my way, and separated my head from my shoulders with your incantations.

You were but a child then, with a puerile voice.

...I remember you.

The traitors you mentioned were a family of three who wanted to flee Kazdel in search of a peaceful life.

They swore an oath of fealty to the Royal Court.

The Royal Court should never be held above ordinary Sarkaz. You may have been a war hero of Kazdel once, but I cannot allow you to slaughter civilians.

So, you chose Babel, and Theresa... all for the sake of your so-called 'ordinary Sarkaz'.

That is the righteous path to the future.

But even after she died, you still didn't return to Kazdel!

You even helped those outsiders steal away the King of Sarkaz!

The inheritance of the King of Sarkaz was a decision made by Her Highness Theresa.

You killed me with your own hands.

When your incantations were coiling around my heart, strangling it... Haha, I couldn't believe it.

After fighting alongside each other for so many years, whatever you felt towards me paled in comparison to those outsiders.

The potted goldengrass you left behind on the ship is growing well now.

After Her Highness's death, how many comrades did you slay with your own hands during the internal strife that engulfed Babel?

The belongings left behind by so many people... I'm sure there's enough of 'em to fill your whole room, huh? Do you feel sorrow every time you look at that patch of grass I planted in that pot on a whim?

If I were to feel sorrow...

It would be because even death has denied you the solace you deserve.

Damazti, you were never so keen to dress yourself up as the 'dead' before.

This exchange of words cannot provide you with any answers, nor can probing my emotions.

The dead do not respond.

They continue to emerge from the dark crystal clusters.

Many faces, some familiar, others not. All of them Sarkaz.

Your innate abilities are resonating with the information stored inside the Originium.

Seeing as how your powers have grown thanks to the Originium–

Logos raises one hand.

No incantations are needed – just a low humming sound from the vibrating of the rock walls.

In a heartbeat, all of the Damazti's clones are shattered.

Just as expected.

There's one left... the very last one.

It's you.

The Vampire stands there in the cave's depths, his expression almost identical to when he stood atop the Feranmut's skull that day.

However, it is no longer fresh blood that roils around him as before, but rather clusters of Originium crystal.

Logos can feel the blood in his body stirring.

The Sanguinarch of Vampires... Duq'arael.

You're not like the others. I know this.

You are not one of the Damazti's avatars.

Lord Damazti, this portion of you decided to assist Qui'sartuštaj.

No... We have no interest in helping anyone in particular. We are simply... searching for answers.

Kal'tsit, we have met you before. When the Sarkaz were not yet Sarkaz.

You walked across us.

I have no recollection of any such meeting.

At that time, we were unable to speak.

And then...

The first King of Teekaz came in contact with Originium.

That was our first 'awakening'.

The first individual rose up from among us.

We felt one another.

We had existed for an unknown amount of time before that. But, it was only at that moment when we became aware of our existence.

Because we began to 'think'.

Originium will assimilate all lifeforms it comes into contact with.

Not just you. But also the original Vampires, Banshees, and Wendigos... All Teekaz have changed. You are approaching the form of another entity that once existed on this land.

Then, what are you?

(Howls agitatedly)

It seems extremely averse to seeing another self.

Kal'tsit... the Immortal.

Do you still remember what you looked like at first?

The 'Immortal' is a figment of certain people's imaginations, and a misrepresentation of my self.

Time leaves its marks upon me all the same. The original entity by the name of 'Kal'tsit' has long been lost beneath the golden sands.