Brave Story (37 page)

I’m in a temple. No, wait. It’s the corridor of some castle.

The ceilings were high and vaulted—about the height of a three-story building. Both floor and walls were made of stone, with large round pillars placed at ten-yard intervals. Countless sconces lined the walls, their fat tallow candles shining like stars. Still, the corridor led into a darkness that Wataru’s eyes could not penetrate.

As expected, when he turned around, the entrance he had just passed through had disappeared. All he could see was the same sort of passageway as the one that led in the other direction, stretching into the distance.

Okay, pull yourself together.
Egging himself on, Wataru began to move forward. Shortly, a large statue—a one-eyed giant—came into view. It was made out of the same sort of stone as the building. Wataru examined the statue. Great armor plates hung on the figure’s bare skin, and his exposed arms were covered with the sort of tattoos Wataru assumed were meant to ward off evil. He carried a large axe over one shoulder.

As he stood, staring up at its face, the ground beneath his feet began to rumble, and then that rumble turned into a voice.

“I am the Dawn-God, Ward of the East, servant to the Goddess of Fate. Answer my question.”

Wataru steadied himself.

The voice continued. “What do you ask of me and the dawnkin?”

Wataru’s mind went blank.
How should I answer?
As he stood there, wondering, he remembered something. That’s right, wasn’t there something like this in
Saga I
? At the very beginning of the game, you had to make a request of one of three gods that ruled the three lands in the game. There were many choices: “wealth,” “honor,” “bravery,” “beauty,” “wisdom.” Depending on which you chose, your character’s abilities would be slightly different.

Wataru took a deep breath, and then in the loudest voice he could muster, he said “I want—I want to be brave. Give me bravery!”

A moment later, the weighty voice answered, “Then bravery you shall have. You may pass.”

The single eye on the statue flashed red, and then the statue simply disappeared. Behind it, the corridor continued, lit by the flickering lights of ten thousand candles.

Wataru walked farther, until he came to another of the statues. He stopped.

“I am the Dusk-God, Ward of the West, servant to the Goddess of Fate. Answer my question.”

“I will,” Wataru said.

“What do you ask of me and the duskkin?”

“I want wisdom.”

“Then wisdom you shall have. You may pass.”

The giant’s single eye flashed blue, and the statue disappeared.

He walked farther, until he came to the third one-eyed giant statue.

“I am the Snow-God, Ward of the North, servant to the Goddess of Fate. Answer my question.”

This time, Wataru asked for health. He wanted to make sure he survived the long journey in Vision.

After he asked, the giant’s single eye flashed white, and the statue disappeared. Wataru went on.

As expected, the fourth statue was the Sun-God, Ward of the South. Here, Wataru wished for happiness. No point going on a journey if it wasn’t going to be any fun, right?

“Then happiness you shall have. You may pass.”

The single eye shone gold, and the statue disappeared, but this time, there was no passage beyond. Wataru stood facing the wall. A dead end. Only candles flickered on its surface.

Then Wataru noticed a candlelit staircase descending from where the statue stood. Without hesitating, he proceeded down the steps. He felt elated, with not a shred of fear remaining. It was like he really had become the main character in a game of
Eldritch Saga
.

At the bottom, the stairs opened out into a wide chamber. Curtains of crimson velvet hung covering windows. There was a line of chairs with high backs sitting against the wall. The floor was polished, so that Wataru could see his own face in the reflection. Here and there were set tall candles in clusters of three. Everything smelled of wax.

Wataru looked up to see numerous paintings covering the ceiling. But the light from the candles was too dim to make out the details. He saw the vague forms of animals, flowers, and trees—
wait, that thing with the strange corkscrew head! It’s a gimblewolf!

Wataru was standing there, mouth hanging open, when a voice called out to him from a distance.

“Wataru, this way.”

Startled, he looked around, and then saw, at the far end of the chamber, the old wizard seated at a candlelit desk.

“Wizard!” Wataru ran over. It felt like he was meeting an old friend. He was so happy he almost wanted to give him a big hug. But when Wataru approached, the wizard slowly lifted one bony hand and said, “Fool.”

He smacked Wataru on the forehead.

“Wizard?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. This won’t do.”

“Huh?”

“Your performance. You’re faring far worse than Mitsuru did. Far worse.”

Why?
Wataru fell silent in confusion. He thought he had answered the four Wards’ questions quite well.

As though he had read Wataru’s mind, the old man said with a pained expression, “That was merely average. You lack originality.”

“O-originality?”

“Yes. And you were wrong to hesitate at the entrance to the cave. Times like that, you have to move quick. I’d say you lack decisive power, that’s what.”

No way!
Wataru staggered and sat down on the floor.

The old wizard produced a long quill pen and a clipboard from somewhere. Wataru blinked, sure he must be seeing things, but no, it was a clipboard.

“Let’s see, your total score is…”

The quill pen—it must have been nearly a foot long—moved swiftly and precisely in the wizard’s hand across the paper.

“Vision Suitability Percentile…thirty-five percent. Special Ability: Zero. Constitution is average at best. And for Bravery…the lowest possible score.”

“Th-th-that can’t be!” Wataru said, clinging to the wizard’s bony knee. He received another loud smack on the forehead.

“As a result you have been assigned the rank of Novice Brave, Prototype I. Your equipment will be provided.”

The wizard tucked the writing quill behind his ear, and with his empty hand he gave Wataru a pat on the head. Something like a firecracker went off, showering sparks on the floor.

“Stand.”

When he stood, Wataru found his clothes had changed. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt of undyed silk—without collar or cuffs on the sleeves. His trousers were dark blue and baggy. His boots were sturdy and laced with leather straps. Only those resembled what Mitsuru had been wearing. Everything else was definitely a grade down, if not several grades down. Instead of a leather belt around his waist, he found something like a hempen cord had been wrapped around him several times.

“This…is my equipment?”

“That it is. Congratulations.”

“What about my weapon? Even a Novice Brave must get a weapon.”

“When you return to the surface, yes.”

The wizard put pen and clipboard away inside his robes, and then with an audible exertion, he stood up from his chair. “I will be leaving for the surface now.”

“Leaving? What about me? Is there another trial?”

The wizard scowled. “You do know that for every request, there is a price?”

“You mean like, money?”

“Not all prices are measured in coins. Sometimes you must offer something larger to receive.”

Again, Wataru felt a tremor run through the ground. It was still distant. But it was getting closer. Something big—no, huge—was coming this way.

“I’ve heard your request, and the price they ask is a game where the stakes are your life,” the wizard said simply. “Should you escape, you win. You’ll have your life, and your wishes. Should you be captured, you’ll lose. And your wishes will not be granted. But that will be the least of your worries.”

With a thunderous crash, the walls of the chamber came crumbling down in four spots. The four Wards! They had destroyed the walls with their axes, the way a child destroys a sand castle on the beach.
They’re coming for me!

“There are many exits,” the wizard said, pointing around the room. Wataru noticed numerous doors lining the far walls.

“Find the exit and make your escape.”

“But how will I know which one is the right one?”

Axes raised, the four Wards charged.

“Good luck,” the wizard said with a grin. “Remember the song of the birds in the Northwood.”

Then the wizard disappeared, leaving only a thin trail of mist where he stood. The mist formed into the shape of a white bird, and was swept upward toward the darkened ceiling.

“W-wait!”

But there was no time. The four Wards were upon him. Wataru screamed and ran for one side of the room, but his legs were like jelly, and he tripped and fell. Where he had been standing moments before, the great axe of the Snow-God came crashing down, biting deep into the stone of the floor. A jagged crack shot through the floor like a lightning bolt.

“Help me!”

Wataru had always laughed at the people in movies and comic books who screamed for help when it was painfully obvious that no one would hear them, or even think of coming to their rescue. He now realized how little he knew. At times like this, you had to scream.

He struggled to his feet and lurched out of the way as another axe—this one belonging to the Dawn-God—smashed into the floor where he had fallen. Even in such dire circumstances, he could tell the statues apart by the color of the single shining eye in the middle of each statue’s forehead.

Okay, run away. But to where?

The chamber was long and rectangular, and the sides were lined with countless doors. He had no way of knowing which one of them was the exit.
Do I have to open every single one in order?

Wataru ran in a panic, and the four Wards gave chase, the floor shaking under their massive feet. Where they stepped, the floor stones broke into shards and scattered everywhere. Wataru saw the destruction out of the corner of his eye and it made his hair stand on end.

Still, as he ran, he noticed something. After one of the four Wards charged and swung his axe, it took him time to change directions. Not only that, but it seemed like the one who charged set the target for the other three. Where the first statue’s axe fell, so too would follow the weapons of the other three. If he could just avoid the first axe, he would have plenty of time to run around before the next attack.

Right!
Wataru ran for the far wall of the chamber, the four Wards bounding after him. The heavy armor they wore clanged and echoed off the walls. Wataru only dared look around once, to find they were right behind him.

Only a few feet away from the far wall, Wataru spun and jumped toward the line of doors along the side of the room. The Dusk-God’s axe swung down, aiming for the place where Wataru had been seconds before. While the axe was coming down, he was picking himself up and grabbing the doorknob closest to him.

The door opened easily. He ran into a small, square room, lit by a soft glow, like moonlight. There were no features in the room, save a bronze statue sitting in the very middle.

Wataru breathlessly approached the statue. He tapped it. It was metal, and very cold to the touch. It looked like the statue of a fawn.
It looks exactly like Bambi!

What’s a statue of Bambi doing in a place like this?

There was no exit that Wataru could see. He groped around, but all he could feel was the cool, seamless stone of the floor and walls. There was no ladder to the surface or rope hanging down from the ceiling. He had to assume that he had chosen the wrong door. It was time to try the next one.

Wataru opened the door a crack and cautiously peered out into the chamber. The four Wards, having lost their quarry, stood in a circle at the very middle of the room. Their eye-lights were dimmed. Wataru took a moment to catch his breath. Then, summoning his courage, he slid out through the door. But the moment he took his first step back into the chamber, the eyes of the statues flashed bright, and the chase was on again.

Wataru ran close to their blades, dodging aside at the last moment, then took the few moments while they regrouped to try another door. He did this again and again, but every door he opened was much the same. They all led to small, square rooms with the statue of an animal—each one different. He saw an elephant, a tiger, a great fish, a bird, an ox, a snake, and even a frog.

As he left each room he would leave the door open. He didn’t want to visit the same room twice by mistake. As he ran around, Wataru began to falter—and not on account of nerves. He was exhausted. It was getting harder each time to avoid the swinging blades of the four Wards. If this went on much longer, he would collapse.

By now he had opened every door there was to open. And, he was sad to discover, there was no obvious exit.

This isn’t fair
, he thought, gasping for breath. He stopped running for a moment, feeling dizzy, and the Wards immediately turned and charged toward him.
They don’t get tired at all. The longer this goes on, the bigger their ad-
vantage. What do I do?!