Chapter 30: The Northward Road （北上之路）

　　The air was cold and sharp with the promise of dawn as Leon left the last familiar cottages of Goldshire behind. He did not take the main road, the well-trodden path that led to Stormwind. Instead, he struck out towards the northeast, following the edge of the Elwynn Forest, keeping to the game trails and the shadows of the trees. It was the route he and Iris had planned in their desperate flight, the path that skirted the most dangerous territories. Now, he walked it alone.

　　当里昂将闪金镇最后几座熟悉的农舍抛在身后时，空气寒冷而凛冽，预示着黎明将至。他没有走通往暴风城的主路，那条被人踩平的道路。相反，他朝着东北方向前进，沿着艾尔文森林的边缘，循着兽径和树影而行。这是他和艾莉丝在绝望逃亡中计划的路线，一条绕过最危险区域的路径。现在，他独自走在这条路上。

　　His father's hunting knife felt heavy and reassuring at his belt. The pack on his back was light, but it held everything he owned in the world. Each step away from Goldshire was a step into uncertainty, but it was also a step that eased the tightness in his chest. The oppressive silence of home was replaced by the natural sounds of the waking forest: the chirping of birds, the rustle of small animals in the undergrowth, the sigh of the wind through the leaves. This was a silence he understood.

　　他父亲的猎刀挂在腰带上，感觉沉重而令人安心。背包很轻，但装着他在这世上拥有的一切。每一步远离闪金镇，都是踏入未知的一步，但也是缓解他胸口紧绷的一步。家中压抑的寂静被苏醒森林的自然声音所取代：鸟儿的鸣叫、灌木丛中小动物的沙沙声、风吹过树叶的叹息。这是他理解的寂静。

　　He walked for most of the day, his pace steady. He was no longer the careless boy who stepped on every dry twig. His movements were cautious, his eyes scanning his surroundings, his ears tuned to the slightest anomaly. The skills learned in desperation had become ingrained habits. He drank from clear streams, refilling his water skin, and ate a small portion of the waybread. The dense, dark loaf was a stark contrast to the fresh bread from the Goldshire bakery, but it was fuel. It was survival.

　　他走了大半天，步伐稳健。他不再是那个踩到每根枯枝的粗心男孩。他的动作谨慎，眼睛扫视四周，耳朵捕捉最细微的异常。在绝望中学到的技能已成为根深蒂固的习惯。他饮用清澈的溪水，重新灌满水袋，并吃了一小份旅行面包。这硬实的黑面包与闪金镇面包店的新鲜面包形成鲜明对比，但它是燃料。是生存所需。

　　As the sun began to sink, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple, he knew he needed to find shelter for the night. Pushing deeper into the forest, he found a suitable spot: a dense thicket of thorny bushes near a rocky outcrop. It wasn't as secure as the root den in Silverpine, but it would conceal him from casual observation. Using his knife, he cleared a small space in the center, just large enough to curl up in. He didn't dare light a fire. The glow and the smoke would be a beacon in the growing darkness.

　　当太阳开始西沉，将天空染成橙紫相间时，他知道需要寻找过夜的庇护所。他向森林深处走去，找到一个合适的地点：岩石露头附近一丛茂密的带刺灌木。这不如银松森林的根穴安全，但能让他不被轻易发现。他用刀在灌木丛中央清理出一小块空地，刚好够蜷缩身体。他不敢生火。火光和烟雾在渐深的黑暗中会成为信标。

　　Sitting in his makeshift camp, chewing on a piece of waybread, a profound loneliness settled over him. It was different from the loneliness he had felt in Goldshire. That had been a loneliness of being misunderstood, of being out of place. This was a simpler, more primal loneliness—the loneliness of being a single, small creature in a vast, dark wilderness. He missed Iris with an ache that was physical. He missed her quiet competence, her sharp eyes, the simple comfort of her presence.

　　坐在临时营地里，嚼着旅行面包，一阵深沉的孤独感笼罩了他。这与他在闪金镇感受到的孤独不同。那是种被误解、格格不入的孤独。这是一种更简单、更原始的孤独——一个渺小个体置身于广阔黑暗荒野中的孤独。他思念艾莉丝，带着一种生理上的痛楚。想念她沉静的能干、锐利的眼睛，以及她存在所带来的简单慰藉。

　　He took out the antler, holding it in the fading light. It was smooth and cool against his skin. "I'm coming, Iris," he whispered to the gathering darkness, his voice sounding small and lost. "I don't know how to find you, but I'm coming."

　　他拿出鹿角，在渐弱的光线下握着它。它触感光滑冰凉。“我来了，艾莉丝，”他对聚拢的黑暗低语，声音微弱而迷茫。“我不知道怎么找到你，但我来了。”

　　The night was long and filled with the sounds of the forest. Every snap of a branch, every hoot of an owl, made his heart race. He slept in fits and starts, his hand never far from the knife. This was the reality of his choice. Freedom came with fear, and solitude with vulnerability.

　　夜晚漫长，充满森林的声音。每一声树枝断裂、每一声猫头鹰鸣叫都让他的心狂跳。他断断续续地睡着，手始终不离刀柄。这就是他选择的现实。自由伴随着恐惧，孤独伴随着脆弱。

　　Dawn broke grey and damp, with a light drizzle falling. He was stiff, cold, and hungry, but he was alive. He packed his few belongings and continued north, the drizzle soaking through his tunic. The world was muted, the colors washed out. It matched his mood.

　　黎明在灰蒙蒙的潮湿中来临，下着细雨。他浑身僵硬、寒冷、饥饿，但还活着。他收拾好不多的行装，继续向北走，细雨浸透了他的束腰外衣。世界静默，色彩黯淡。这很符合他的心境。

　　The terrain began to change gradually. The rolling hills of Elwynn grew steeper, the trees taller and older. He was entering the foothills of the Redridge Mountains. According to the stories, this was a contested area, plagued by gnolls and orcish raiders. His senses, which had begun to relax in the relative safety of Elwynn, were now on high alert once more.

　　地形开始逐渐变化。艾尔文起伏的丘陵变得更陡峭，树木更高大古老。他正在进入赤脊山的山麓丘陵。根据传说，这是争夺激烈的地区，受豺狼人和兽人袭击者的困扰。他在艾尔文相对安全的环境中开始放松的感官，现在再次高度警觉起来。

　　He moved like a ghost through the misty woods, his progress slow and deliberate. He was no longer just a boy running away from home. He was a traveler, a survivor, navigating by a memory and a desperate hope. The road was long, and he had only just begun. But with each step, the ghost of the boy he had been faded, and the resolve of the wanderer he was becoming grew stronger.

　　他像幽灵一样穿行在雾蒙蒙的森林中，缓慢而谨慎地前进。他不再只是一个逃离家庭的男孩。他是一个旅行者，一个幸存者，依靠记忆和绝望的希望导航。前路漫长，他才刚刚开始。但每一步，他曾经那个男孩的影子都在消褪，而他正在成为的流浪者的决心则愈发坚定。