2001 The Children of Bottle

by Ryohgo Narita

  Today, he says, we’re having a festival where we stew seven types of herbs and then eat them: another Asian custom. In preparation for it, Master Elmer and Mistress Sylvie are boiling water in the castle. Master Nile does nothing but sleep. When he does wake up every so often, he goes to the castle stable and plays around with the three horses, while Master Czes spends his days constantly reading the books that were left in the library. Master Maiza often comes to me and asks me about various things, but sadly, I don’t know much about myself. All I can do is tell him about the things that remain at the root of my memories, in bits and pieces, but he listens to each word intently. He always thanks me for my awkward stories.

  I want to be more useful to them, but I can remember hardly anything about my past. All I remember are my days of abuse at the hands of the villagers. Those are the only sort of memories I have, and even they are being blotted out by the present.

  My memories of each day since Master Elmer came, and since Master Maiza and the others came, are overwriting them.

  Ah, that’s right. This must be what having fun feels like.

  I try to smile, but the atmosphere in the village troubles me.

  At this time of year, the villagers have very few opportunities to go outside.

  I don’t know what they’re thinking after Master Feldt’s visit to the castle. They’d never tell me, and even if they are plotting something, there isn’t much they can do in all this snow.

  February.

  When February comes.

  When the season Master Elmer called “February” comes…

  …a trader from outside the forest will visit.

  When the snowy season’s trader has gone again, they’ll offer up a sacrifice.

  It will be me again this year. When that happens, for the first time in five years, I will be all in one place.

  Abruptly, I think of something.

  Of course: I’ll smile then. Brightly, like Master Elmer and Mistress Sylvie. If I smile suddenly, surely Master Elmer will be surprised. After that, he’s bound to smile at me.

  What should I do? I’ll have to start practicing my smile now.

  Stealthily, secretly, so that Master Elmer doesn’t see.

  And so time passes again…

  February The old castle

  The month changed, and one day, after a stretch of fair weather, the trader came.

  The thing that appeared in this village, which was greatly divorced from the outside world’s level of civilization, was enough to remind them that this was the twenty-first century, not the past.

  “That’s…”

  When the sun had almost reached its zenith, a roar suddenly echoed through the area, startling Maiza and the others and sending them scrambling for the castle’s main gate.

  There, they saw an enormous motorized snow sledge that was roughly shaped like a truck.

  “What’s going on?”

  The huge truck had stopped in front of the castle, and the first thing Czes and Sylvie did was try to get a look at the driver’s seat. However, the window glass had been specially treated, and, like the cars politicians rode in, the side windows were black and merely reflected the light.

  When they circled around to the front, they were able to dimly make out the truck’s interior… But when they saw the person inside, Czes and the others were struck by a terribly eerie feeling.

  Whatever was in there did seem to be human, but a black mask covered its whole face, and what looked to be a military helmet covered that. It had something like goggles over its eyes, so it wasn’t possible to see what they were like—but its face was turned their way, and it seemed to be watching them.

  “Heh! Did that startle you? Or are you homesick for the outside world now?”

  As Maiza and the others were examining the truck, they heard the same old teasing voice behind them.

  “He’s the trader… Though, that said, he never gets out of the truck.”

  Ignoring Maiza and the others, who weren’t sure what to ask first, Elmer called out loudly to the man in the driver’s seat. Spreading his hands and indicating his companions behind him, he said:

  “You understand the situation, right? Take us back with you.”

  “Huh…?”

  Before Czes could ask what he meant, the engine roared, drowning out his voice. Rear wheels kicking up a ferocious spray of snow, the truck sped away down the snow-covered mountain road. The road through the forest was only slightly wider than the truck itself, and if another vehicle came from the opposite direction, there wouldn’t be room for them to pass each other. That said, in all likelihood, the driver was doing this because he was absolutely certain that there would be no oncoming vehicles.

  “All right, he should be back in an hour or so.”

  With that, Elmer went back into the castle, leaving his four dumbfounded companions behind. After that, all that remained were Maiza and the others with question marks floating over their heads—and, as proof that this had not been a dream, deep tracks in the snow.

  The trader has come to the village.

  The villagers all gather around the cart, exchanging crops harvested in the village and handiwork they’ve made during the winter for oil, cloth, and various other materials. However, no one gets out of the driver’s seat, and everyone performs the trades themselves, based on the rates posted in the back of the cart.

  There might have been some people who took articles for free and ran off with them, but the trader always stays in the cab of the iron cart.

  Mistress Sylvie told me that technically, it’s called an “automobile,” not a “cart.” Apparently, it works just like the vehicle Master Maiza and the others arrived in, but this one is much weightier and bursting with strength.

  In any case, I don’t dislike watching the bartering. Since I’m observing from a distance, no one sends me contemptuous looks, and all their faces are filled with energy.

  That said, until now, I really only “didn’t dislike” it. At this point, I think I can actually say that I like it.

  Of course, deep down, the villagers seem unsettled by the trader. The trader comes from “outside,” too, and he is unmistakably evidence of the existence of something they want to deny. However, unlike outsiders, the trader doesn’t interfere with the village. He’s been around since the villagers were born, and the adults stick to a policy of ignoring him, so the children naturally imitate them.

  The same thing probably should have happened to me. However, ever since Master Dez became headman, that custom has collapsed. For some reason, Master Dez can’t stand the sight of me and makes no attempt to hide that fact, and, as if to follow his lead, the villagers also—

  I should stop. Because that period has gone on for so long, my memories have been buried in chaos. It feels as though if I recall those days too vividly, the shining light ahead of me will sink into deep darkness.

  It’s gradual, but little by little, I can tell that that light is growing brighter.

  Maybe it’s because of Master Elmer, Mistress Sylvie and the others, and Master Feldt. They may be why I managed to see light again from the depths of the darkness.

  I once thought that although Master Feldt didn’t despise me, he didn’t help me either, but let me correct that. Master Feldt saved me. He spoke to me without contempt. He treated me as me. That was already salvation enough, wasn’t it? Strictly speaking, I might be wrong, but at the very least, that’s what I’ve decided to believe.

  Maybe it’s because the hope that lies ahead of me is drawing nearer.

  It might be my imagination, but the sky seems higher and bluer than usual.

  As I watch the villagers, someone calls to me from behind. The voice belongs to Master Elmer.

  While I keep my eyes on the trading, I look at Master Elmer’s face. He’s wearing his usual smile.

  “Fil. When the trader goes home today, Maiza and I are going to have him give us a ride outside…to the place where you were born, actually.”


  “Huh?”

  “If you feel like it…I’d like to tell you the truth about yourself. It may be a shock, or it may clear up your doubts and make you feel better. For that reason, it’s completely your call.”

  I have no reason to refuse.

  To be honest, I do feel a little uneasy. I think that in learning everything about myself, I might destroy the life I’ve led up till now. I think this forest, my flask, might break.

  But now…now, I feel as though I could accept it all.

  Besides, if I’m going to really smile from the bottom of my heart… Surely this is a trial I have to get through first. Somehow, I know I have to do this.

  “I’ll go.”

  I respond in the clearest voice I’ve ever used.

  “I would also like to know…what I am.”

  Just as the me in the castle says this, the me in the village spots Master Dez.

  He’s beside the truck, standing in the midst of the commotion, and he’s staring at me.

  Have I done something without realizing it again?

  Remembering the pain of being hit, I shrink back involuntarily, but…

  Without saying a word, Master Dez walks away.

  It stirs up a strange uneasiness inside me.

  Master Dez’s behavior stays with me as an intense concern, but I want to focus on what Master Elmer is saying right now, so I push it down into the depths of my heart.

  If my memories are correct, for the first time since he became headman, Master Dez looked at me…and smiled.

  However, the smile was nothing like Master Elmer’s. It had seemed completely empty.

  A smile whose temperature was incredibly low. A smile cold enough to freeze someone.

  Afternoon The forest road

  “It’s been quite some time since I was jostled in the back of a truck.”

  “Makes you feel like a calf on its way to the market, doesn’t it?”

  Riding in the rear of the truck-shaped snow sledge—in other words, with the cargo—Maiza, Elmer, and Fil (just one of them) bounced and jounced along. The sledge plowed powerfully through the snow, and every vibration resonated inside them like a deep bass sound.

  Up until a moment ago, Fil’s eyes had been wide open with something akin to excitement, but she must have gotten tired. She’d fallen asleep, using as a pillow one of the sacks of wheat the villagers had given the trader.

  “By the way, Maiza.”

  “What is it?”

  Elmer had spoken abruptly, and he sounded rather formal, so, although Maiza had been stretched hugely and been on the verge of falling asleep, he woke himself up again.

  “Why is Nile wearing a mask?”

  “……You’re asking that now?”

  “No, well, I mean…! Things were all muddled the first day, and then I just never got the chance to ask! Asking after the fact felt, y’know…wrong. Besides, he didn’t explain it himself, so he might have been hiding it from himself, too. If me getting a reputation for insensitivity is all that would happen, fine, but Nile seems like he’d actually get mad.”

  “True. Once Nile gets angry, he’s completely unmanageable.”

  Remembering the masked man’s intensity, Maiza agreed, smiling wryly. “His mask is—well, he says it’s insurance.”

  “Insurance?”

  “He says that if we put our right hands on his head, and he’s wearing something on it, he might be all right. In other words, if there’s some sort of obstacle between palm and head, he may be able to keep from being devoured.”

  “Oh, I see… Hunh. He’s quite a worrywart, too, then.”

  How about that. That’s not what Czes said.

  As Elmer was thinking this, Maiza smiled a little and added:

  “No, it isn’t that Nile doesn’t trust us. According to him—”

  “Say you and I were camping. Half-awake, in the middle of a dream, you grab a tasty-looking melon. Then, in your dream, you think, I want to eat this! Now, what if your ‘melon’ was my head? I would be sent to the next world in my sleep. Let me just say this: I do not think getting eaten by one of you is the worst thing that could happen to me, but I will not tolerate dying over something like that. That is all.”

  “Ha-ha, there, see? He is a worrywart!”

  Elmer cackled. Still smiling quietly, Maiza murmured:

  “Well, that’s what he says, but…I think it may actually be something else.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Nile says he’s spent the past three hundred years on battlefields all over the world. The whole time, he stuck to areas where the fighting was considered particularly fierce, and he kept himself on the front lines.”

  “……”

  “I don’t know what he was trying to learn by going exclusively to places like that, or what he saw there, but… It’s possible he wears that mask because he has something else on his mind…although that’s just a guess.”

  As he spoke about his old friend, Maiza looked as if he’d become aware of something. Elmer watched his face for a while. Then, suddenly, he smiled with relief.

  “Maiza. You must’ve met some real good people.”

  “That was abrupt. Why?”

  “No, it’s just…your smile. It’s more cheerful than it was three hundred years back.”

  Elmer had brought up something odd out of the blue, and as Maiza responded, he smiled wryly.

  “Does it look that way?”

  “Yeah. If Czes learns to open up a bit more, I bet he’ll be able to smile like that, too,” Elmer said, remembering the boy’s sad expression during their conversation on the castle roof.

  “Hmm? What about Czes?”

  “Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

  At that point, the conversation nearly trailed off, but Elmer had one more thing to say.

  “By the way, how’s the demon doing? He’s one of your pals, right?”

  “”

  The words left Maiza speechless for a moment. He stared at Elmer, who was grinning like a mischievous little kid.

  “Surprised?”

  “How did you know…?”

  “Some stuff happened between him and me, way back when.”

  He must have been pleased that he’d managed to startle the coolheaded Maiza. Elmer’s laugh echoed in the back of the truck, and he sounded truly cheerful.

  Mystified, Maiza tilted his head to the side, but, deciding that Elmer probably wouldn’t tell him even if he asked, he didn’t pursue the issue further.

  “So, that reminded me. Are any of you still practicing alchemy?”

  “—Czes was until a little while ago, but I’ve given it up. Sylvie and Nile have as well. We’ve already achieved immortality, one of the ultimate goals, and so now, unless we’re doing it because it interests us, research itself is probably impossible… Let’s see. If there’s one who might be, it would be…Huey, I’d think.”

  At the name of his old companion, Elmer gazed up into space, looking faintly nostalgic. “Ah, I see, yeah. Even if it isn’t alchemy, I bet he’s running some kind of experiment.”

  “He’s the type who attempts to see whether the power of immortality could be used to overthrow the government, after all,” Maiza offered.

  “Ah, I miss him. I haven’t seen him in forever. Denkurou, too, and Begg, and Victor.”

  Seeing Elmer’s vaguely sad smile, Maiza also recalled his old companions’ faces.

  “You could simply go see them, you know. Leave this village.”

  “Yeah, I’ll go. In order to do it, though, I’ll need your help, Maiza.”

  “Ah? What do you—? Oh.”

  Before Maiza could ask, the truck abruptly began to decelerate.

  Some sort of metallic creaking came to them from the front of the slow-moving vehicle. From the back of the truck, they couldn’t tell what was happening, but it seemed likely that some sort of gate was opening.

  A few seconds later, the truck gradually began to pick up speed, and their surroundings were a
bruptly enveloped in darkness.

  “…Is it a tunnel?”

  “We’re almost there.”

  The tunnel ended almost immediately, and light poured down around the bed of the truck. However, Maiza had been paying attention to the things he could see from the back, and the scenery was far more desolate than he’d anticipated.

  Before he had time to observe anything in detail, the truck suddenly slowed again, then came to a stop.

  “Did you think we’d be in the city all of a sudden? In that case, you win the booby prize.”

  They’d arrived at what appeared to be a laboratory of some sort.

  Ignoring Elmer, who was cackling, Maiza poked his head out of the bed of the truck and looked around. They were in a large warehouse, and it appeared as if the structure had been built over the tunnel to hide it. It seemed like the sort of dock used to build warships, only scaled down and hauled up onto dry land. Several figures were visible inside the building; they were dressed like security personnel, with guns in the holsters at their hips, and they were obviously the polar opposite of the people they’d seen in the forest.

  When Maiza saw the concrete floor and the security guards, his senses were immediately yanked into another dimension. Up until ten minutes ago, his brain had been calibrated to the feeling of wandering a fantasy world in the forest, and now it found itself abruptly confronted with the reality of twenty-first-century Earth. Realizing he was feeling mild culture shock over civilization that he should have been used to, Maiza smiled to himself a bit awkwardly.

  One of the guards seemed to have noticed Maiza. He started toward them, one hand on his holster. From the fact that he hadn’t signaled to any of his companions, he didn’t seem to be specially trained military personnel.