story_nowell_1_1

Ugh... *sob*...

C-Calm down, sir!

Someone has already gone to get Operator Nowell! I-If you could move that needle away from her temple—

I'm not moving until he shows up.

But I suggest you avoid making any sudden moves.

Otherwise, I can't promise my hand will stay steady.

*pant*—*pant*—

I-I'm here. Who's... what happened—

—Huh?

Mr. Nowell.

That's me. And you are...?

Operator Nowell is here, Mr. Eroshka! Can you put the needle down now?

Your name is Eroshka?

You don't remember me...

I shouldn't be surprised. I've changed a lot since we last met.

I'm sorry, I don't. But you wanted me, and I'm here. Can you let the hostage go now? You can have me instead.

I'm coming to you, slowly. Can you let go of the girl?

Come alone and stop two steps before me. Then I'll let go of her.

No weapons.

Be careful, Mr. Nowell...

Alright.

Nowell puts down his Arts Unit and optometric equipment, gestures to the old man, and then starts walking forward.

One more step.

I've done as you said. Now—

Oh—!

Uh—

I'm a man of my word.

...I came to Rhodes Island at the recommendation of an old client after I left Londinium.

Rhodes Island is a pharmaceutical company specializing in Oripathy research and treatment. They have branches and clinics in many places. That's why I've resurfaced.

Oripathy. Hmph.

You cure uncurable diseases now?

That's outside the scope of my work, and beyond my abilities.

Right. You're an optician, not a doctor.

I've gained sufficient basic medical knowledge to save lives in the broad sense.

Someone who spent his entire life trying to die, now making it his life's work to save lives...

Is this some kind of sick joke?

It's no joke, Eroshka.

I've said a lot. What about you? You didn't do all this just to remember old times with me, did you?

If that was it, you wouldn't have to threaten these kids. They would have brought you to me.

Or are you simply being impulsive and dramatic, just like old times?

I never expected that would get you to recognize me so quickly.

Then why?

Because your people were taking down your tents and preparing to move out.

You know as well as I do why Oripathy clinics in Ursus operate like traveling circuses, ready to move at a moment's notice.

Yes, Oripathy, the Patrol Unit, the civil rights situation... same old story. That's not my point.

I came as soon as I heard you were here, only to see your people packing up and getting ready to leave.

Only the girl I held up was working in the tent up front. She apologized to me and said that you weren't taking patients, because you were moving elsewhere.

You're right. I should have told her I wasn't a patient, asked her if there was a man named Nowell here, and to take me to him.

But I couldn't wait.

...Have you been searching for me?

Hah.

I said, I'm a man of my word.

Wait, go no further.

Get out of my way! Let me go back!

I'm going back to them! Even if we die, we'll die together!

...*sigh*.

There's no point.

Wh-What did you say?

What's the point of going in there?

I get out of the way, you go into the fire and die with your family... no one will ever remember what happened here.

That's better than being the only one to live! I'm not a coward!

Surely you understand what true cowardice would be.

Someone has to suffer the consequences of choosing the wrong side. But if the 'silencing' has taken place before the Emperor's edict—

Then the worst that can happen to those who survive this human-caused tragedy is exile.

Wh-What are you trying to say?!

Is it not clear enough? They sacrificed themselves to protect you.

Protect me? Ha... hahahaha! Protect me!

It was you, wasn't it? You're the one who killed them! And you say it was their choice, to protect me—

...Eroshka. That's your name?

Alors, Eroshka. I'm just a traveling optician. I'm not even from Ursus, and I have no interest in intervening in your conflicts.

I simply came to repay a favor. Your father asked me to save your life, and I did. That's all.

Do you think I would believe your shit—

No, I thought you would be wiser. Impulsive and dramatic behavior is the privilege of the young, and you're not THAT young.

...I know it. It was you—it has to be you!

How could you know so much, if you were really just a simple optician?!

Unless you were part of it to begin with...

Yes, yes. That must be it!

I'm going to kill you.

I'll kill you!

You're welcome to try. You'll earn my gratitude.

The soot has blackened the Ursus youth's hands. Without a second thought, he raises his only weapon and runs it through the unmoving man.

The dagger misses the man's heart and becomes stuck several inches under his ribs.

Damn—

*cough* *cough*...

Wh-Why didn't you dodge?!

Because, if you actually manage to kill me, that would be the greatest birthday present of all.

If I hadn't forgotten my birthday... it's been... such a long time ago.

Do you think you could make your death less painful by taunting me?

I don't know. All you can do is, try.

*pant*... *pant*...

Argh—*cough* *cough*

Why—

Why won't you die?!

*cough*... hah.

Trust me, I've tried everything I can think of.

Nowell forces down the blood that has rushed up his throat. He knows that his wounds will soon miraculously heal.

After a moment of stillness, he pushes himself up from the snow.

The pain lingers, but never on the surface.

...What?

I've seen many tragedies like this one, in Victoria, Leithanien, even Gaul. What has happened to you is simply a much cleaner imitation.

The snow will cover all dirty deeds.

Shut up—SHUT UP!!

You can hardly stand, Eroshka. Why not use that last bit of strength to hear me out?

I've seen all this because I've been cursed to live forever, until I find the one thing that I can never again possess...

You're telling me there's something you can't find, even with a power like that?

Happiness.

I swear, if this is some kind of joke—

I came here, because I've searched everywhere I can for the one who cursed me.

But the more I see, the more pain I feel, and the further I am from happiness and the sweet release of death.

Therefore, I won't say things like 'at least you're alive'. It's nothing to celebrate. All I can say is, at least you have a choice.

You can walk into the fire, or kill yourself some other way.

Or, if you still blame me and want to kill me, you can keep living...

And come to find me, just as I seek the one who did this to me.

No, don't... you can't go.

Where will I find you?

To tell the truth? I don't know.

All I can give you is a token.

Ooh la la...

I said I'd come to find you.

This is the token you gave me.

Nowell looks at the object in the old man's hand.

It is a pair of glasses. The lenses have shattered; one side of the frame bears traces of repeated repairs, having clearly seen better days, while the other side seems good as new.

...You kept them.

Of course I did.

Did I tell you that I made them to try to end my own life?

I failed, of course.

Nowell takes the glasses and pulls out the arm on the new side.

They look at the sharp, long needle inside.

You didn't, but I can imagine.

And they say the men of Ursus lack imagination.

If imagination is the only way to get through certain forms of suffering, then it's a power that few in this land lack.

True. Only imagination, but for imagination...

You polished it.

Why? It wasn't just to hold up a young girl who knew nothing, was it?

I've been looking for you. You know what this means.

You're a man of your word. You want to kill me.

Yes, but not entirely.

You've reached the age when you start to babble nonsense.

I know exactly what I'm saying.

You can choose to kill me, or you can choose not to. There is no room for ambiguity between life and death, nor is there a transitional state between them, most of the time.

Nowell reinserts the needle into the frame and gives them back to the old man.

The man snorts.

What if I came to kill you, and save you too?

What?

What if I realized there wasn't anyone in particular I could hate for that tragedy... and yet I was powerless to fight the greater forces behind it?

I had some connections to this land. Then I lost it all, and there wasn't even anyone I could hate for it.

Yet you remained obsessed with looking for me, as I was once obsessed with...

Because I was the only one who lived. I saw suffering, but I could do nothing about it. I was alive, but not truly so!

Yes, I started to understand you. You saved me, and the thought of searching for you kept me going all these years. That's why I wanted to repay the favor.

I lived because I was cursed never to die. You lived because you were strong.

Strong. Ha, strong! Let's just say it was so.

After you left, I was captured and sentenced to the mines, but had the good fortune to be conscripted before I came down with Oripathy.

On the battlefield, I had my brushes with death, but each and every time I was the lucky one who lived...

That was when I decided I would find a method to kill anyone.

You found it, didn't you?

Yes... I think I did.

There is a light in the old man's eyes that belies his age. He grabs Nowell's hands with fire in those eyes, and puts a glass bottle in his hand.

Nowell sees a cloudy liquid swirling in the bottle.

This is how I repay you, Nowell. No need to continue a hopeless journey in search of happiness. Drink it, and it'll all be over—

I get my revenge, you get your release.

In alphabetical order... E... Eroshka...

Found him! The electronic records were broken, but thankfully there were paper files.

Military backpack... bread, water bottle, two books, four medals, a photo...

Grey jacket with a pair of glasses in the pocket, and—

...Two glass bottles filled with liquid?

What's in the bottles? Were the bottles opened and examined, or was he asked to take a sip?

No... damn it, no! He got through a needle as thick as a wheat stalk—who knows what's in those bottles?!

He's—

He's with Operator Nowell, who's not carrying his Arts Unit. I have to—

Mr. Nowell—Mr. Nowell!

You—

She runs out in time to see the old man's punch find Nowell's chest.

Nowell does not dodge or block and stumbles back a few steps.

*cough*—!

Uh—

Mr. Nowell! Are you alright?

What happened? Why did he hit you? Did he take out anything unusual...?

The medic operator's attention turns to the ground, where a broken glass bottle lies, its shards and a dark mark resting in the snow.

...Huh?

By the time she looks up, the old man has left the camp and disappeared from sight.

Are you alright, Mr. Nowell?

Was there an altercation? Are you hurt?

...No, I'm fine.

We—

We just had some catching up to do.

Even you need time to think in the face of such temptation.

I understand. But we don't have much time.

No, I'm just thinking...

What the right way to decline is.

You no longer seek death?

Each day I long for it, more than the day before.

Then there's no reason to refuse, unless you're a coward too.

Few would describe me as brave, but that's not the reason.

You know the only thing that can kill me is happiness, Eroshka. It was a rule that an arrogant, supernatural entity imposed upon me, along with my unwilling immortality.

Now, you claim to be able to break it with a bottle of poison.

Yes.

What if I told you that you could achieve the same by taking that needle out and putting it through my temple, or neck artery?

What...

I am no longer immortal.

What are you trying to say?

I've seen the one who cursed me, and found what could kill me.

The fact that I'm here now, saving lives... all of these are related.

So you're trying to tell me that you got your revenge and found happiness here?

You found happiness in this bunch of daydreamers trying to cure the incurable?

You—

You could say that, but the point is...

Death is already coming for me, Eroshka. If you insist that I drink this poison here and now, I will.

The choice is yours.

That would not be repaying you. It's just killing you.

But you'll feel better once you've found closure. There's just one pair of glasses that I still have to finish, for a girl called Katya who lives here...

Perhaps you can bring the glasses to her once I've finished them and drunk the poison.

I'll write a will, making it clear that I took my own life.

If there's a funeral, I hope you can make it.

Ha—

Hahahahaha!

Are you serious, Nowell? Do you think of me, the man who came to kill you, like some kind of wishing well?

I think of you as an old friend, of which I have very few.

Then you'll be disappointed, because this old friend isn't doing anything for you.

The old man snatches the bottle back from Nowell, and smashes it on the ground before he can react.

Eroshka—

I came to you with poison, and you're still trying to save me, after all these years?

Save me, comfort me, help me. It makes you happy to be in such a position, doesn't it?

Well, you're not getting your wish.

You can't save me, Nowell, because neither disease nor weapons will kill me, only the inexorable march of age—

And if what you say is true, then you'll feel it soon enough.

Every word is true.

Whatever you say. I'll never know.

Why did you...?

Alors, when you said 'we don't have much time', what you really meant was... <i>you</i> don't have much time?

You knew your days were numbered. You came to me because—

Thanks to you, I've wasted half my life, never able to repay a favor or settle a score.

Of course, you've seen many ridiculous lives like mine, in your own long, long life.

It's not ridiculous, Eroshka, only painful.

Pain is the only thing we really can grasp in life. What's truly ridiculous... is what brought us to this point.

It's no shame to admit the existence of pain. If I can help—is there anything I can still do for you?

There's nothing you can do.

I can use the shards of the broken bottle, if you want.

But I don't understand. If you didn't want to grant my wish, then you should have killed me here, non? Prevent any chance that I could try to save you—

No. That's enough.

You know that saving lives is my life's work now.

...Hah.

Fine. Stand right there, and don't move.

You changed your mind?

I said, stand right there—

Ugh—

*cough* *cough*!

You're right. I'm not the one who's ridiculous, and I don't need your pity, Nowell.

—Mr. Nowell!

We're square.

Mr. Nowell, Mr. Nowell?

...Huh?

Sorry, I was distracted. Did you say something?

You need to get checked, see if your ribs have cracked...

By the way, how are Katya's glasses going? We have to move along to the next town tomorrow morning.

They'll be done tonight.

Shall we go back inside the tent, then?

...You go first. I'll be fine. You know I heal quickly.

But thank you for coming to get me. I just need to clean up... the broken glass.

Can't leave them lying here. Someone, or maybe a passing burdenbeast, might accidentally step on them.