Chapter 40: The Whisper in the High Pass (高山隘口的低语)
The days that followed were a blur of ascent and endurance. The air grew thinner, the cold more biting. The trees shrank to stunted, wind-gnarled pines that clung to the rocky slopes like desperate climbers. Leon moved through a world of stone and sky, the valleys below hidden in a sea of cloud. He was above the world now, in a realm where only the hardiest creatures survived. He saw eagles soaring on the thermals, and once, the distant, shaggy form of a mountain ram silhouetted against the sun. He was a speck in the immense, silent grandeur of the peaks.
接下来的日子在攀登和忍耐中模糊度过。空气更稀薄,寒冷更刺骨。树木退化为矮小、被风扭曲的松树,像绝望的攀爬者紧抓岩石山坡。里昂穿行在石头与天空的世界中,下方的山谷隐没在云海之下。他现在处于世界之上,一个只有最顽强生物才能生存的领域。他看见鹰在上升气流中翱翔,有一次,远处一只长毛高山盘羊的身影在阳光下映出轮廓。他是巨大、寂静、壮丽山峰中的一个微粒。
His supplies were dwindling. He rationed his waybread carefully, supplementing it with edible lichen and a few hardy berries he found growing in sheltered crevices. Water was not a problem; meltwater streams cascaded down from the glaciers above. But the constant cold and the physical strain were wearing him down. His clothes were torn, his boots were wearing thin, and a persistent cough had settled in his chest.
他的补给在减少。他小心地配给旅行面包,用可食用苔藓和在一些遮蔽石缝中找到的耐寒浆果补充。水不是问题;融化的溪水从上方冰川流下。但持续的寒冷和体力消耗正在拖垮他。他的衣服破了,靴子磨薄了,胸口持续咳嗽。
He navigated by the sun by day and the stars by night, keeping a general northward bearing. But his goal was no longer a place on a map; it was a person, a feeling, a hope that grew fainter with each passing mile. The antler in his pocket felt like a relic from another life. Had he been a fool to come this far? Was Iris even still in these mountains? Or had she long since returned to the safety of Teldrassil?
他白天靠太阳,晚上靠星星导航,保持大致向北的方向。但他的目标不再是地图上的一个地方;而是一个人,一种感觉,一个随着每一英里流逝而变淡的希望。口袋里的鹿角感觉像来自另一个生命的遗物。他走这么远是愚蠢吗?艾莉丝甚至还在这些山里吗?还是她早已回到泰达希尔的安全地带?
One afternoon, as he struggled up a particularly steep scree slope, his foot dislodged a large rock. It clattered down the mountain, starting a small avalanche of stones. As the noise subsided, a new sound reached his ears—a sound that was not the wind or the cry of a bird. It was a low, rhythmic chanting, carried on the thin air from the other side of the ridge.
一天下午,当他挣扎着爬上特别陡的碎石坡时,他的脚踢松了一块大石头。它哗啦啦滚下山,引发了一小阵石崩。当噪音平息时,一个新的声音传入他耳中——不是风声或鸟鸣。是低沉、有节奏的吟唱,从山脊另一侧稀薄的空气中传来。
He froze, his heart hammering. It was not the guttural tongue of orcs. This was different—older, more melodic, yet filled with a primal power that resonated deep in his bones. It was a sound that felt connected to the stone beneath his feet, to the very bones of the world.
他僵住了,心脏狂跳。这不是兽人粗哑的语言。这声音不同——更古老,更有旋律感,但充满一种在他骨子里共鸣的原始力量。这声音感觉与他脚下的石头、与世界的骨骼相连。
Cautiously, he crept to the top of the ridge and peered over. The sight that met his eyes made him gasp. Below, in a natural amphitheater of rock, was a circle of massive, standing stones. They were ancient, worn smooth by centuries of wind and weather, but they were clearly not natural formations. They were arranged with purpose. And in the center of the circle stood a figure.
他小心翼翼地爬到山脊顶部窥视。眼前的景象让他倒吸一口气。下方,在一个天然的岩石圆形剧场中,是一圈巨大的立石。它们很古老,被几个世纪的风雨磨平,但显然不是自然形成的。它们是有目的地排列的。在圆圈中央站着一个身影。
It was not an orc. It was taller, with broad shoulders and thick, dark fur covering its powerful limbs. Its head was bovine, with large, curved horns and intelligent, dark eyes that seemed to see right through the stone. A tauren. Leon had heard stories of these nomadic people of the plains, allies of the orcs. But what was one doing so high in the mountains, alone?
那不是兽人。它更高大,肩膀宽阔,强壮的四肢覆盖着浓密的深色毛发。它的头是牛头,有大而弯曲的角和似乎能看透石头的智慧黑眼睛。一个牛头人。里昂听说过这些平原游牧民族的故事,兽人的盟友。但一个牛头人独自在这么高的山上做什么?
The tauren was chanting, its deep voice rising and falling in a pattern that seemed to sync with the pulse of the wind. It held a large, ornate staff in its hands, and as it chanted, it traced symbols in the air that seemed to shimmer with a faint, earthy light. It was performing a ritual. A druidic ritual.
牛头人在吟唱,它低沉的声音以一种似乎与风的脉动同步的模式起伏。它手中握着一根大而华丽的法杖,吟唱时,它在空中画出符号,似乎闪烁着微弱的、泥土般的光芒。它在举行仪式。一个德鲁伊的仪式。
Leon watched, mesmerized and terrified. This was magic of a kind he had never seen—not the flashy arcane arts of human mages, nor the subtle, nature-based power of Iris. This was raw, elemental, and deeply connected to the land. He felt like an intruder, witnessing something sacred and secret.
里昂看着,既着迷又恐惧。这是一种他从未见过的魔法——不是人类法师花哨的奥术艺术,也不是艾莉丝那种基于自然的微妙力量。这是原始的、元素的,与土地深深相连。他感觉自己像个闯入者,目睹着神圣而秘密的事情。
As he watched, the tauren's chanting grew more intense. The air around the stone circle began to hum with power. The wind picked up, swirling around the stones. Then, something incredible happened. The tauren's form began to shift and change. Its body contorted, fur receding, limbs reshaping. In a matter of seconds, where the tauren had stood, there was now a massive, sleek mountain lion, its coat the color of granite and shadow. It let out a low growl that vibrated through the rock, then bounded away up the mountainside with impossible speed and grace, disappearing into the crags.
他看着,牛头人的吟唱变得更强烈。石圈周围的空气开始因力量而嗡鸣。风大了,在石头周围旋转。然后,不可思议的事情发生了。牛头人的形态开始变化。它的身体扭曲,毛发消退,四肢重塑。几秒钟内,牛头人站的地方出现了一头巨大、光滑的山狮,毛皮是花岗岩和阴影的颜色。它发出一声在岩石中回荡的低吼,然后以不可思议的速度和优雅跃上山坡,消失在峭壁中。
Leon remained frozen for a long time, his mind reeling. He had just witnessed shapeshifting—the ultimate druidic art. The tauren was a druid, a powerful one. And it was heading north, deeper into the most remote peaks.
里昂僵了很久,脑子一片混乱。他刚刚目睹了变形——终极的德鲁伊艺术。那个牛头人是德鲁伊,一个强大的德鲁伊。它正向北,深入最偏远的山峰。
A new thought, wild and desperate, sparked in his mind. If a tauren druid was drawn to this place, to these high, sacred peaks… could an elven druid be drawn here too? Was it possible that Iris, with her connection to nature, had sensed something in these mountains? Could she be here?
一个新的念头,疯狂而绝望,在他脑中闪现。如果一个牛头人德鲁伊被吸引到这个地方,这些高耸神圣的山峰……一个精灵德鲁伊也可能被吸引来吗?艾莉丝,她与自然相连,有没有可能在这些山脉中感应到了什么?她可能在这里吗?
It was a thin hope, a thread of possibility spun from magic and desperation. But it was enough. The encounter had not given him answers, but it had given him a direction. The druid had gone north. He would follow.
这是一个渺茫的希望,一个由魔法和绝望编织的可能性线索。但这足够了。这次遭遇没有给他答案,但给了他一个方向。德鲁伊向北去了。他会跟随。
He waited until the sun began to dip below the western peaks, painting the sky in fiery hues, before moving on. He was no longer just a boy lost in the mountains. He was a seeker on a path that was becoming stranger and more wondrous with every step. The whisper of the wind now carried a new promise—the promise of magic, of ancient secrets, and perhaps, just perhaps, of a girl with moonlight in her eyes.
他等到太阳开始沉入西边的山峰,将天空染成火红色,才继续前进。他不再只是一个在山中迷路的男孩。他是一个追寻者,每一步都让道路变得更奇怪、更奇妙。风的低语现在带来了新的承诺——魔法的承诺、古老秘密的承诺,也许,只是也许,还有一个眼中蕴含月光的女孩的承诺。