『Centrellus, Chapter 16』のカバーアート

Centrellus, Chapter 16

Centrellus, Chapter 16

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 Chapter 16: Shadows and LightOneThe mirror gave way with a soundless, gut-wrenching pop that felt to David like his soul was being squeezed through a keyhole.One moment, the stale motel air filled his lungs. The next, he was vomiting it back up as he stumbled onto soft, wet ground. The world didn't just spin; it warped. His equilibrium screamed in protest, his inner ear convinced he was plummeting. He fell to his hands and knees, the cool dew soaking through his jeans, and retched violently. Nothing came up but bile and terror, burning his throat."Breathe through it," Hirum's voice came from somewhere above him, calm and anchored. "The body rejects the violation. Let it."David gasped, spitting onto the moss. The nausea was a solid, churning mass in his gut. His head throbbed with a pressure that felt like a deep brain freeze. "Christ," he managed, wiping his mouth with the back of a trembling hand. "Does it... always try to turn you inside out?""It always tries, but only the first few times does it succeed," Hirum said, not unkindly. He stood patiently a few feet away on a worn stone path. "You are doing remarkably well. You are merely… recalibrating.""Great." David pushed himself up onto his knees, then shakily to his feet. His legs felt like overcooked noodles. The world still had a liquid, dreamlike wobble. He focused on the ground—silvery moss, tiny white flowers, the intricate veins of a fern. Real. Solid. He took a deep, shuddering breath. The air was cold and clean, scented with pine, damp stone, and something faintly floral. It helped, a little.Hirum gestured ahead. "The climb will settle you. And there is a remedy inside."David followed, his steps unsteady, up a steep flight of stone steps carved directly into the mountainside. They were ancient, worn smooth in the centers, slick with moisture. With each step, the crushing nausea receded incrementally, replaced by a deep, bone-weary ache. By the time they reached the top, he was sweating and breathless, but the world had mostly stopped its funhouse-mirror act.Before them, the mountain itself seemed to have opened a mouth.Hirum's sanctuary wasn't a building on the mountain; it was a growth from it. Rough-hewn stone formed archways and walls that blended seamlessly with the cliff face, as if the rock had decided to arrange itself into rooms. No glowing symbols—just the natural, dark grey stone, streaked with mineral veins that caught the faint moonlight. Vines heavy with night-blooming flowers cascaded over the entrance, their scent thick and narcotic. A heavy oak door, bound with iron, stood slightly ajar. From within, a warm, flickering light spilled out, along with the smell of woodsmoke and something like old parchment and dried herbs."Ground yourself here a moment," Hirum said, placing a hand on the stone archway. "The mountain's pulse is slow and strong. Let it steady yours."David leaned against the cold stone, feeling a faint, deep vibration through his palms. It did help. It felt real in a way the teleportation had not.Hirum pushed the door open.The warmth that enveloped David was immediate and profound, like stepping into the chest cavity of a living creature. The main chamber was a wide, circular space, its ceiling lost in shadow high above. The walls were the living rock, uneven and striated, but covered in a breathtaking chaos of knowledge. Not neat shelves—every surface was utilized. Scroll tubes were crammed into natural crevices. Leather-bound books were stacked in precarious towers on rough stone ledges. Maps, drawn on yellowed parchment or cured hide, were pinned to the wall with bone daggers, overlapping and annotated in a dozen different hands and languages. A massive, scarred wooden table dominated the center, littered with astrolabes, crystal lenses, bowls of strange powder, and a single, burning oil lamp.A fire crackled in a deep hearth carved into the far wall, its light dancing over the faces of three people who had been waiting."Welcome," Hirum said, his voice echoing softly in the chamber. "This is the heart of the matter. And these are its keepers."First, the woman. She wasn't just serene; she was still in a way that made the air around her seem calmer. Her hair was the white of a winter moon, swept back from a face so finely lined it seemed carved from ancient ivory. Her eyes were a blue so pale they were almost colorless, and they held David's gaze without blinking. He felt seen, not just looked at—as if she were reading the ghost-impression of his recent passage through the mirror on his skin."I am Ava," she said. Her voice was soft, but it carried, each word clear and weighted. "I am a seer from Torsand, and I have been in communication with seers of the Kryllos. We have watched the caravan descend. Edgar is a vortex of ambition. A shadow that seeks to extinguish light." Her head tilted slightly. "But the women with him… one burns with a quiet, stubborn fury. The other… there is a light in her, ...
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