North x Northwest

even without a body, his research could be continued.
Edgar was hopeful. 

‘Murasha can be saved if the cause of the cell transformation is discovered…’

He groaned and rubbed her sunken cheek.

“If I can find that out, you’ll…”

Murasha slowly opened her eyes.
It was a sunny day.
She spoke while bathing in the bright sunlight.

“Let me hear the Cembalo*.”

She was no longer able to lift the Surihe.
And even if she could, her Surihe was left behind on the Western Continent.
Still, she wanted to listen to music.
She had spent her entire life playing music dedicated to God, so it seemed natural that she would seek music even as she withered.

Edgar started tapping on the Cembalo that he had placed by the bed.
He was always indifferent to music, but the marquess insisted that he would learn it from an early age, claiming it was a keepsake from his grandmother.
Whenever the marquess got the chance, he would sit down and listen to Edgar play the song he wanted.
Thanks to the marquess, Edgar knew how to play well enough to give a performance.

Edgar almost bursted out in tears the first time she asked if there was music here too.
It was the only meaningful thing he could give her.
He endured for the sake of seeing her live again.
If he didn’t have anything to offer, he might have truly gone insane.

Murasha, who was silently listening to the melody, recited.

“I want to see the forest.”

“Again?”

Lately, they’ve been visiting the nearby forest.
He initially had hopes that Murasha’s symptoms would improve when she asked to be taken to the woods, but nothing changed.
She was still unable to walk and would periodically lose consciousness.

As there was no forest near his residence, they had to go to the nearby hunting ground.
Edgar always took Murasha there, even though he was worried that the carriage would be uncomfortable or if it would put too much strain on her body.
Still, whenever she got to the forest, she seemed happy.
Edgar looked down at her as she leaned against him with her feet dipped in the lake.
The forest wind blew her tousled hair.

‘Is it her instinct to find the forest, or is it a feeling of longing for her hometown?’

While staring at Murasha, who had her eyes closed, Edgar decided to confirm the hypothesis.
An unreliable hypothesis.
But that was all he had now.
Murasha was the last of the Ruwa tribe.
She was the only one who could be studied.
Animal experiments took longer, and Edgar had a long-held suspicion that Murasha’s time was running out.

‘The oxygen concentrations in the Western and Central Continent are different.’

This was a hypothesis he had long tried to prove.

The voyage would be long and hard, but the answer would be the same no matter how many times he thought about it. 

‘Murasha is unable to survive on the Central Continent.
She can only live in the Western’s jungles.
Even within the Central Continent, there are different regions with different oxygen levels in the air.
Murasha finds it difficult to breathe here, just as it’s difficult for someone who lives on flat terrain to breathe when they travel up a mountain.

She may not feel it, but her cells certainly do.
Because if cells can’t handle oxygen levels that are less than usual, eventually changes will occur in the living body so that they can survive even with that amount of oxygen.
That‘s why plants and cells that live in places where the air is thin form coils in the bodies of higher organisms.’

Edgar headed to the Western Continent with her.
Around this time of year, the route was clear and that was fortunate for them.
Perhaps thanks to that, Murasha didn’t have a hard time sailing.
No, it was more right to say that she didn’t have the spirit to struggle. 

Edgar lay always next to her, unable to step out of the bed.
He held her cold hand and begged for a sleep that never came. 

At some point, Murasha stopped eating full meals, but she never mumbled that she was hungry.
So, Edgar naturally stopped feeding her and instead played her the Cembalo he had brought on board…

A few months later, they anchored off the coast of the Western Continent.

Edgar entered the jungle with Murasha in his arms.
Wild boars and buffaloes roamed the ruined village.
Elephants flapped their ears and roared.
Most of the burned buildings were covered with black spots, and vines entwined around the destroyed building acting as their support.

“Murasha.”

He lowered his gaze to her in his arms.
He was met by a pale face that revealed the contour of her skull.
He always thought her pink skin was lovely, but today, no matter how hard he looked at her, he couldn’t see it because of her grey complexion.

Edgar felt fortunate that he was able to give her a proper Ruwa funeral.
Ruwans were cremated.
So, he set up a pyre in front of the temple.
The process was neither complicated nor difficult.
One should sprinkle enough flower petals to cover the body and set it on fire.

As Edgar watched the flames blazing in silence, the resentment he had endured for a long time finally bursted out… 

 – – – – – 

Footnote:

*Cembalo: Musical instrument that looks like a piano, but works like a string instrument.
By playing the keyboard one or more strings will be plucked by a small plectrum.
So even though it looks like a piano, it sounds more like a guitar or similar string instrument.

 – – – – –

TN:

Chapter 108 and 109 were so hard, so sad and so painful to translate… It really hit us in the feels.
It becomes even more tragic knowing that Ed and Murasha were only 18 and 16 years old, poor kids.
We also can’t decide if we were robbed from a gem of a scene or if it’s fortunate we didn’t get to read about the exact moment she passed away.
TT