Chapter 25: The Shifting Horizon （变幻的地平线）
The ship that would carry Leon back to Stormwind was a sturdy, broad-beamed merchant vessel named the Stormchaser. It sat low in the water, its hold packed with bolts of Theramore linen and crates of exotic spices from the south. The air around it smelled of salt, tar, and the faint, sweet perfume of its cargo. As Leon stood on the dock, his small pack slung over his shoulder, the vessel looked less like a means of salvation and more like a final, irrevocable door closing on the world he had come to know.
将载着里昂返回暴风城的船是一艘坚固、宽梁的商船，名为“逐风者”号。它吃水很深，货舱里堆满了成捆的塞拉摩亚麻布和来自南方的异国香料箱。船周围的空气弥漫着咸味、焦油味和货物淡淡的甜香。当里昂背着小小的行囊站在码头上时，这艘船看起来不像是救赎的工具，更像是一扇正在关闭的、不可逆转的门，将他与他所了解的世界隔绝。
A young guardsman from the barracks escorted him to the gangplank. "Safe journey, lad," the man said, offering a curt nod. There was no ceremony, no further questions. Leon was simply handed over to the ship's first mate, a burly man with a thick beard and a voice like grinding gravel, who checked his name off a list and gestured for him to go below decks.
兵营里的一名年轻卫兵护送他到了跳板前。“一路平安，孩子，”那人说着，简短地点了点头。没有仪式，没有更多问题。里昂就这样被交给了船上的大副，一个胡子浓密、声音像磨石子一样粗哑的壮汉，大副在名单上核对了他的名字，示意他到下层甲板去。
The space below was dim and cramped, filled with the groaning of the ship's timbers and the smell of bilge water and unwashed bodies. Hammocks were slung in tight rows, already occupied by a handful of other passengers—a tired-looking dwarf with an empty keg strapped to his back, a pair of human traders playing a quiet game of dice. Leon found an empty hammock near the bow and stowed his pack. The few possessions he had felt absurdly light: a change of clothes, the water skin, the waybread, and the smooth antler, which he kept wrapped in a scrap of cloth deep in his pocket.
下层空间昏暗而拥挤，充满了船体木料的嘎吱声、舱底水和未洗浴身体的混合气味。吊床密密麻麻地排成几排，已经有一些乘客躺在上面——一个背着空桶、面带倦容的矮人，两个正在安静玩骰子的人类商人。里昂在船首附近找了个空吊床，放好了他的包。他仅有的几件物品轻得可笑：一套换洗衣服、水袋、旅行面包，以及那根用布片包好、深藏在口袋里的光滑鹿角。
He went back up on deck as the ship prepared to cast off. He wanted to see Theramore one last time. The city gleamed in the morning sun, its white stone towers proud against the blue sky. It was a place of order and power, a testament to what humans could build. But as the sailors hauled on the ropes and the sails began to fill with a steady offshore breeze, Leon felt no connection to it. It was just another waypoint, another place that was not home.
当船准备起航时，他回到了甲板上。他想最后看一眼塞拉摩。这座城市在晨光中闪耀，白色的石塔映衬着蓝天，显得巍峨壮观。这是一个充满秩序和力量的地方，证明了人类所能创造的成就。但当水手们拉起缆绳，船帆开始被稳定的离岸风鼓满时，里昂却感觉不到与它的联系。这只是一个中转站，另一个不是家的地方。
The Stormchasermoved slowly out of the harbor, past the breakwater and into the open sea. The land began to recede, shrinking from a city to a line on the horizon, and then to a memory. The only reality was the vast, heaving expanse of the ocean, the creak of the ship, and the cries of the gulls that followed them.
“逐风者”号缓缓驶出港口，经过防波堤，进入开阔的海面。陆地开始后退，从一座城市缩小成地平线上的一条线，然后变成一个记忆。唯一的现实是广阔起伏的海洋、船只的吱嘎声和尾随他们的海鸥的鸣叫。
Leon stood at the railing for a long time, watching the water. He had thought the sea would feel like freedom after the confines of the city and the barracks. But it didn't. It felt like another kind of prison, vast and empty, carrying him relentlessly towards a future he was no longer sure he wanted. The boy who had dreamed of adventure was gone. In his place was a young man who had lived one, and found that the return journey was the hardest part.
里昂在栏杆旁站了很久，望着海水。他原以为在经历了城市和兵营的束缚之后，大海会让他感到自由。但并没有。它感觉像是另一种监狱，广阔而空旷，无情地将他带向他不再确定是否想要的未来。那个梦想冒险的男孩已经消失了。取而代之的是一个经历过冒险的年轻人，他发现归途才是最艰难的部分。
That night, as he lay in the swaying hammock, the sounds of the sleeping ship around him, he took out the antler. In the near-total darkness, he traced its familiar shape with his fingers. It was cold and smooth. He didn't need to see it; he knew every curve, every ridge. It was a anchor to a world of vivid senses—the smell of damp earth, the taste of fear, the sound of Iris's voice whispering in the dark. It was a world of immediacy and raw truth. The world he was returning to—of paved streets and familiar faces—felt pale and distant in comparison.
那天晚上，他躺在摇晃的吊床里，周围是沉睡的船只发出的声响，他拿出了那根鹿角。在近乎完全的黑暗中，他用手指描摹着它熟悉的形状。它冰冷而光滑。他不需要看它；他熟悉每一个弧度，每一个棱角。它是一个锚，连接着一个感官鲜活的世界——潮湿泥土的气味，恐惧的滋味，黑暗中艾莉丝低语的声音。那是一个充满即时性和原始真实的世界。而他即将返回的那个世界——铺着石板的街道和熟悉的面孔——相比之下显得苍白而遥远。
He fell into a fitful sleep, haunted by dreams of silver leaves and the distant, mournful howl of a wolf. He woke with a start to the grey light of dawn filtering through the deck boards, the antler still clutched tightly in his hand. The adventure was over, but the journey had just begun. And he was traveling alone.
他断断续续地睡着了，梦魇中萦绕着银色的树叶和远处凄厉的狼嚎。他在黎明灰蒙蒙的光线透过甲板缝隙照射下来时猛然惊醒，鹿角仍紧紧握在手中。冒险结束了，但旅程才刚刚开始。而且，他是独自一人旅行。