Наконец-то перевели флешбек Энкиду:
..suddenly my vision goes dark.
It's like a bout of anemia.
I wonder if it's fatigue from exploring the labyrinth.
"Hmph. Your face doesn't look it,
but your vital signs have dropped."
...fu. There's a limit even to poverty,
but it would be inconvenient if you collapsed in the labyrinth.
Go rest for a moment. I will keep watch.
His manner of speaking is harsh,
but it's strange that Gilgamesh is worried about my body.
I answer his highness's fickle words with "Well then," and lay down.
...The moment I lie down, I'm overcome with drowsiness.
...It's as though I've become tired right down to my bone.
...I give in to the exhaustion that falls on me.
...It's a short rest from the reality of this fight.
...For at least an hour, let me fall into a deep dream...
DREAM
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I was born from a lump of clay.
The clay was kneaded by the hand of the gods.
I was made to be a tool that could take on infinite shapes.
I awoke in a wilderness.
The first sight reflected in my eyes was the vast earth, the vast sky,
and the walls of a city towering far away.
Suddenly I could hear a voice calling out from afar.
What made me open my eyes was not my mother's fingers,
nor my father's reproach.
I was troubled by that voice and my heavy eyelids opened.
Newly awakened, I had no reason.
For several years since I awoke for that purpose,
My existence was merely running through the wild with beasts.
But I had a goal.
Because when my mother made me, I was given a mission.
"Chains.
You will return those bonds to us."
And yet I had no soul.
I could do nothing but live wild.
I lacked a human's purpose.
Each day was nothing but the joy of running wild with the animals.
I was incomplete, but what I lacked did not exist.
...And yet.
Sometimes I would stop and look to that far-off city.
Beyond the wasteland, someone was calling out.
I wonder who's voice that is?
It's not my father's, and it's not my mother's.
I felt as though someone far different was calling for me.
Lamenting my senseless self, my father gave me a woman.
Even just having met me,
That woman became a good teacher.
I learned wisdom and reason.
I was taught the all the ways of both heaven and earth.
In order to fulfill the mission I was given before I was made, a soul was breathed into me.
"Enkidu."
And then, for the first time, I spoke my own name.
At that moment, the world became a completely simple thing.
My duty.
My mission.
I had to show the wrath of the gods to the arrogant Gilgamesh.
My heart leapt with joy.
I raced through the wilderness like a shooting star.
The meaning of my existence.
The reason I was made.
The thing that gave me life.
I would bring punishment to a doll who, like me, had been made by the gods.
But the one I sought out was still a young boy.
Unlike me, he seemed to still be growing.
Unlike me, it was said that his blood was mixed with a human's.
He was still a child.
Until he grew, I could not compete with him.
I had to admonish him when we could stand as equals.
And so I gazed at that walled city.
I could hear that voice calling from inside.
I pushed down my feelings and counted the days until he matured.
As a child, above any other man on earth, he possessed a kingly nature.
He was honored for his tolerance, prudence, fairness, and good morals.
Everyone on the streets praised him, was charmed by him.
He was the very image of an ideal boy king.
I could only think that the gods were mistaken, thinking him arrogant.
The boy Gilgamesh had no traits to be reproached.
...If there happened to be a problem, it was this:
He honored the gods, but there were times where he did not obey them.
Years passed, and the boy grew to adulthood.
I realized the gods fears were well founded.
In mere years, that boy became a completely different person.
Despotism. Tyranny. Coercion. Levys. He lived selfishly in the lap of luxury.
The people of Uruk despaired.
They asked why things had become like this.
The gods racked their brains.
They said they hadn't thought it would come to this.
...but I knew why he had changed.
I understood so much it hurt.
From birth, he held a certain conclusion.
Neither god nor human, a unique existence.
Possessing traits of both god and man, his scope was too wide, too far,
Even to the gods, the things he saw could not be understood.
His great strength gave birth to greater loneliness.
And yet he could not cast his crown aside,
Just as I could not run from my own purpose.
...such intense ego.
Once he revered the gods in earnest and loved people.
But because of his existence
He chose to defy the gods and detest humans.
"You say you will remonstrate me?"
We first met before a virgin bride's bedchambers.
"Yes. With my hands, I'll right your arrogance."
Rather than "arrogance," I should have said "loneliness," but I couldn't.
I didn't want to wound his pride.
Our fight raged on for many days.
I was a spear, an axe, a shield, a beast. Able to freely become all things in creation, I was an opponent who taxed the power of the man who had laid claim to every treasure.
"<i>YOU!</i> A mere lump of mud stands against me?!"
Was he startled or angry, first meeting his equal?
During that fight, he drew his most prized treasure.
To draw a beloved sword such as that could have been nothing but a disgrace to him.
First we pursued one another - an inevitability.
But in the end, enjoying ourselves without restraint, we poured our all into that battle.
That fight ended in... whose victory?
His last treasury was empty, I had exhausted 90% of my clay.
Unable to even make clothes, certainly my form was gaunt.
After his eyes had gone wide and he'd had a hearty laugh, he looked up and collapsed.
I collapsed to the ground as well and took in a deep breath.
Truthfully, we could move no more.
"Between us, only one move remains.
If we can only defend, we're but two foolish corpses lined up."
Even now, I don't understand the true meaning of those words.
Did I want to ask "Then we end with a tie?"
Did I point out "If this is foolish, there should only be one corpse"?
Even so, I heard those words and went limp,
as if to imitate him.
I could only think that we were like a mirror.
"Do you regret having used your treasure?"
Somehow, those words left my mouth
"What? If there is an opponent on whom it should be used, it was not wrong to draw it."
Gilgamesh said that with a cheerful voice.
From then on, I was by his side.
Those days raced by.
"Since you appeared, my storehouses have been in disarray.
I should not be flinging my treasures about. You've given me a ridiculous habit."
He was still ever the collector,
but sometimes, it seemed, he committed the new use of his treasures to memory.
It was one of my few accomplishments.
There was a demon named Humbaba.
We combined our strength and defeated it.
I asked Gilgamesh,
"Why did we determine to defeat him?
It was not an order from the gods.
That said, neither should it have been for the sake of the people of Uruk."
"Ah, was it not to protect Uruk?
If do not to defeat all the evils of the earth, the people would starve, would they not?"
Then why? I pressed.
He was a tyrant to the people of Uruk.
Why would this man worry of them?
"It's no mystery.
It is because I was born to protect humans.
It is a king's duty to build up this world's future and civilization."
He said that, looking far into the distance.
It was so far off that I, who had been made for a similar purpose,
Could not discern what he was looking at.
"And are there not different sorts of guardians?
I am not the sort who simply protects. Sometimes, even the north wind is a necessity."
That time, I completely understood him.
"So I see.
In other words, you favor the path that is certain."
He laughed, embarrassed.
His smile was like the breeze, and for a moment I could see the boy he once was.
...I understood why he preferred loneliness.
Because the path he chose
Was one that he had to walk alone.
He said he was protecting the far off future that he saw.
For that reason, if the king were to detest the gods and hate people,
He must be nothing but alone.
The more he thought fondly about the future of mankind,
The more disaffected he became. Even ruler must reap their own results.
And the king held nothing but the outcome.
He, who was greater than any human, could not intervene
with the "brilliant machine" that would give birth to that conclusion.
"Well, it seems the final result will become a dull fabric.
But beyond that, I will see it to its end."
To his boasting, I succumbed and said:
"I am a tool. Something you will decide is unnecessary.
But until the world's end, I can continue to be by your side."
"Fool."
I thought his relief was something I would see only once, and never again.
"Isn't that good... That's..."
He continued thus.
At that moment, I received words that were as brilliant and precious as a glittering star.
At that moment, I had a true meaning. An ego.
ENKIDU'S DEATH
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This is our last story.
A story about the rift between Gilgamesh and Ishtar,
About our battle with the Bull of Heaven that Ishtar released,
About my final moments.
At Gilgamesh's side, the Bull of Heaven was driven off with that weapon,
The dark clouds that enveloped the world parted, and the earth was saved from a great flood.
As punishment for opposing the gods, I would be returned to a lump of clay.
Gilgamesh collapsed and clung to me desperately.
"I won't allow it! Why must you die?
If retribution must be handed down, then it is I who should be punished!
Everything is mine, and mine alone!"
Again, the heavens wept.
I could not see, but I counseled him.
"There is no need to mourn. I am but a weapon.
I'm nothing but one of your treasures.
From now on, countless treasures will appear that surpass my strength.
So there is no reason or worth in your to wetting your cheeks for me."
Indeed. I was a weapon. A tool.
I was different from him.
Gilgamesh was a child of the gods, and a hero who defied them.
Unlike me, he had "real" life.
I was disposable. Unlike me, he was a star of infinite worth.
...I had always longed for such a purpose. Detested it.
If we were made by the same father, why were we such different creatures?
"You have worth. An incomparable worth.
Here, I will declare it.
In this world, I have but one companion.
Because of that... your worth is eternal. Unchanging."
I was a weapon.
But more than a weapon, I was one that could, surely, be replaced by the next era's weapons.
My worth and mystique were for this era alone.
I thought myself different from him.
Different from he, whose compensation was to be alone for eternity.
...I remember his words from that time.
I remember him from at moment I declared myself a tool.
"Fool.
We live together, speak together, fight together.
That does not make you a person, nor a weapon. Enkidu, I call you 'friend.'"
.........ah.
Such grave sin. While knowing the weak, he did not reflect on the weak.
While knowing the strong, he did not acknowledge the strong.
There were none whom he acknowledged.
To continue on as a solitary king was his greatest belief.
I had inflicted an eternal wound on his pride.
Gradually, the rain weakened.
I had returned to my former shape, a lump of the wasteland's earth.
After that, all that was left were the king's howls, so great one would think they were thunder.
My memories end there.
I was already a vanished regret.
From now on, this is your future.
A tale for you, human, unlike me.
...so now, I want you to ask him something.
"Do you still love humans?"
"Do you still remember your friend's name?"
Will you abandon the faults of that distant era?
