贪婪与眼泪 Greed and Tears

“诸神大怒，地动山摇。裂谷鸿沟破八荒，”年迈的卡尔墩开始讲故事了，篝火映着他饱经风霜的脸庞。“就是这样一条裂谷，引来一位年轻人寻宝冒险。他找到了一个开口，一座古墓的入口，只有犬首人才知道这扇门被尘封了多久。这个年轻人需要抚养儿女，需要讨好妻子，所以他冒险前进，因为这个机遇实在太诱人。”

“The gods were angry, and shook the land. Cracks rent the earth,” said old Khaldun, his crag-featured face lit by firelight. “It was into one of these fissures that a young man ventured. He found an opening; the entrance to a tomb, hidden for the Jackal knows how long. The man had little ones to feed and a wife to please, and so he ventured in, lured by opportunity.”

大人和孩子都开始聚拢过来，以便听清这位老者的故事。他们都很疲倦–––– 那一天他们走了很远的路，而恕瑞玛的烈日从来都不留任何情面–––– 但是卡尔墩开口讲故事实属难得。他们全都裹紧了肩上的斗篷，挤走了寒夜，靠近了篝火。

Adults and children alike crowded in close to hear the old storyteller’s words. They were all weary - they had traveled far that day, and the Shuriman sun had been unrelenting - but Khaldun’s tales were a rare treat. They drew their cloaks tight around their shoulders against the chill of the night and leaned in.

“墓穴中的空气很凉爽，终于可以避开外面的炙热高温了。年轻人点起了火把，火光映出的影子在他面前舞动。他每一步都小心翼翼，时刻防范着陷阱。他很穷，但他不傻。”

“The air was cool in the tomb, a merciful relief from the scorching heat outside. The young man lit a torch. Its light made shadows dance before him. He stepped cautiously, wary of traps. He was poor, but he was no fool.

“墓穴里的墙壁都是光滑的黑曜石，篆刻着古代的文字和图像。他读不懂 – 他是个粗人–––– 但是他开始研究这些图画。”

“The walls inside were smooth obsidian and carved with ancient writings and images. He could not read – he was a simple man – but he studied the images.

“他看到了一位小皇子，双腿交叉坐在太阳圆盘上，下面由一群仆人托举着，他的脸上洋溢着笑容。他面前堆放着装满金币财宝的宝箱，穿着奇特的异乡使节们正在弯腰鞠躬，呈上贡品。”

“He saw a boy prince, sitting cross-legged upon a sun disk borne by a team of servants, a beaming smile upon his face. Chests of coins and riches were piled before him, the offerings of strangely garbed, bowing emissaries.

“他继续看其他的石刻画，微笑的皇子再次出现在画中，这一次他行走在自己的子民中间，他们全都把头仅仅贴在地面上。男孩头顶的皇冠射出太阳般的光芒。”

“He saw other carvings, again showing the smiling prince, this time walking among his people. Their heads were pressed to the ground before him. Stylized rays of sunshine radiated from the boy’s crown.

“在这些图画中，有一幅的前方摆放了一尊小金像。就这一枚金像的价值，已超过他十辈子才敢企及的财富总和了。年轻人拿起金像，滑入自己的布兜中。”

“Before one of these images was a small, gold statue. It alone was worth more than he could have hoped to earn in ten lifetimes. The young man took it, slipping it into his satchel.

“他不想逗留。他知道很快就会有其他人到达这里。而当他们真的到达的时候，他最好已经离开了。贪婪会让最伟大的人变成蠢蛋，而他非常清楚，其他人会毫不犹豫地为了那尊金像而让他流血–––– 不仅是金像，还有更深处的所有财富。这个年轻人虽然有许多毛病，但他并不贪财。他觉得已经没必要继续深入了。剩下的宝藏就留给其他人吧。”

“He did not intend to linger. He knew it would not be long before others came upon this place. When they did, he wanted to be gone. Greed makes fools of even the greatest men, and he knew that others would willingly spill his blood to claim that golden statue - and the other riches that were surely further in. Avarice was not one of the young man’s faults, however. He felt no need to delve further. The other treasures hidden here were someone else’s to claim.

“他在离开古墓之前看了一眼最后一幅画。画中那位小皇子死掉了，静静地躺在灵柩上。最靠近他的那些人在哭泣……但是远处的人们却在欢呼。他究竟是被人爱戴？还是一名暴君？他无从得知。”

“He looked upon one last image before he left the tomb. It showed the boy prince dead, lying upon a bier. Those closest to him were wailing... but further back, people were celebrating. Had the boy prince been beloved, or had he been a tyrant? There was no way of knowing.

“就是在这个时候，他听见了一个声音：一个在黑暗中让他浑身颤抖的声音。”

“That was when he heard it: a sound in the darkness that made his skin crawl.

“他环顾四周，双眼睁到最大，将火把高举在前方。可是空无一物。”

“He looked around, wide eyed, holding his torch up before him. Nothing.

“‘谁在那？’他说。但是得到的回答是一片寂静。”

“‘Who’s there?’ he said. Silence was his only answer.

“年轻人摇了摇头。‘只不过是风而已，你个蠢货，’他心想。‘是风而已。’”

“The young man shook his head. ‘It is just the wind, you fool,’ he thought. ‘Nothing but the wind.’

“然后他又听到了同样的声音，这一次更加清晰了。在古墓更深处的黑暗中，一个孩子正在哭泣。”

“Then he heard it again, more distinctly this time. A child was crying in the darkness further into the tomb.

“如果换成其他任何地方，他的父爱本性都会驱使他寻找声音的来源。但是在这里，在黑暗的古墓之中？”

“Heard anywhere else, his paternal instinct would have been to go to the sound. But here, in the darkness of a funereal tomb?

“他想要逃跑……但他最后没有逃跑。哭泣的声音拨动了他的心弦。哭声中充满了悲惨和哀伤。”

“He wanted to run... but he did not. The sobbing touched his heart. It was filled with such misery and grief.

“有没有可能这座古墓还有另外一个入口？万一真是一个小男孩走进了古墓然后迷路了呢？”

“Was it possible there was another entrance to this tomb? Had a young boy found his way down here and become lost?

“他将火把高高举起，向前蹑手蹑脚地前进。哭声还在继续，在黑暗之中微弱地回荡着。”

“Torch held high, he crept forward. The weeping continued, echoing faintly through the gloom.

“他来到了一个更宽敞的墓室门口，地面漆黑，反光强烈。墓室里面的黄金器物和嵌满珠宝的墙壁在火光中闪闪发亮。他小心地进入了这间墓室。”

“A wide chamber opened before him, its floor black and highly reflective. Golden artifacts and jewel-inlaid walls glinted within. Gingerly, he entered the room.

“他猛然抽回了腿，因为他的脚后跟还没着地，就在地面上激起了好几圈波纹。这是水。地面上不是光滑的黑曜石––––地面上全是水。”

“He stepped back sharply as his heel sent ripples spreading out across the floor. Water. The floor was not made of reflective obsidian – it was covered in water.

“他半跪下来，舀起一捧水送到嘴边。他立刻吐了出去。这是咸水！在这里！恕瑞玛的心脏地带，距离最近的海洋也有一千里！”

“Kneeling, he scooped a handful of it to his lips. He spat it out immediately. It was salt water! Here, in the heart of Shurima, a thousand leagues from the nearest sea!

“他再次听到了男孩的哭泣，现在更近了。”

“He heard the sound of the boy weeping once more, closer now.

“他将火把举到眼前，年轻人借着火光的边缘瞥见了一个人影。看上去似乎是一个孩子，背对着他坐在那里。”

“Holding his torch before him, the young man glimpsed a shape at the edge of its light. It appeared to be the child, sitting with his back to the man.

“他谨慎地走进了墓室里。地面上的水并不深。他脖子后的汗毛全都直立起来，恐惧充满了他的胸膛，但他依然没有转身逃跑。”

“Carefully, he stepped into the room. The water upon the floor was not deep. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and fear clutched at his chest, yet he did not turn to run.

“‘你迷路了吗？’他问道，同时缓缓地靠近。‘你是怎么到这里来的？’”

“‘Are you lost?’ he asked, as he stepped closer. ‘How did you get here?’

“那个人影并没有转过身……不过他倒是开口说话了。”

“The shadowed figure did not turn... but he did speak.

“‘我……我不记得了。’他说。他的声音在年轻人身边回荡了许久，在墓室墙上反弹出许多层回音。男孩的口音非常古老，他的措辞也很奇怪……但是能听得懂。‘我不记得我是谁了。’”

“‘I... I don’t remember,’ he said. The sound swam around the young man, echoing off the walls. The boy spoke in an old dialect. His words were strange... but understandable. ‘I don’t remember who I am.’

“‘别担心，孩子，’年轻人说。‘一切都会好的。’”

“‘Be calm, child,’ said the man. ‘All will be well.’

“他更靠近了一些，面前的人影终于显露出来。他惊慌地瞪大了双眼。”

“He stepped closer, and the figure resolved itself before him. His eyes widened.

“他面前的人影是一尊镶满玛瑙的金像，就是一座金像。它并不是哭声的来源，也不是男孩声音的来源。”

“The shape before him was a god-statue carved in onyx, nothing more. It was not the source of the crying, nor of the child’s voice.

“这时，一只小手，干燥的小手，抓住了他。”

“That was when a small, dry hand grabbed him.”

听众里面最年幼的孩子抽了一口气，瞪大了他的眼睛。其他孩子则壮着胆子哄笑起来。年迈的卡尔墩也微笑起来，嘴里一颗金牙在篝火中映出金光。然后，他继续讲了下去。

The youngest of the listeners gasped, his eyes wide. The other children laughed in false bravado. Old Khaldun smiled, a golden tooth glinting in the firelight. Then, he continued.

“年轻人低头望去。他身边站着一个缠满了亚麻绷带的尸体，正是画中的那位小皇子。虽然这位僵尸男孩满脸都缠着裹尸布，但是从他空洞的眼窝中还是透射出了一缕昏暗、鬼魅的幽光。这位僵尸男孩捉住了年轻人的手。”

“The young man looked down. The linen-wrapped corpse of the tiny prince stood beside the man. Dull, ghostly light emanated from the deathly boy’s eye sockets, though his entire face was bound in burial wrappings. The corpse-child held the man’s hand.

“‘你能做我的朋友吗？’小男孩问道，他的声音被绷带捂在了嘴里，含糊不清。”

“‘Will you be my friend?’ the boy asked, his voice muffled by linen.

“年轻人突然向后倾倒，挣脱了那个孩子的抓握。年轻人惊恐地看着自己的胳膊：他的手已经开始凋零枯萎，变成了黑色，不断地皱缩干瘪。这消耗生命的短暂触碰正在沿着他的胳膊向上爬。”

“The young man lurched backward, breaking free of the child’s grasp. The young man looked down at his arm in horror; his hand was shriveling, turning black and withered. The wasting touch then began to climb up his arm.

“他转身逃跑。在他的惊恐和忙乱中，他丢掉了灯笼。火光跌进了泪之湖中发出嘶嘶声，随后黑暗降临。不过，他依然能够依稀辨别出前方微弱的日光。他向光亮跑去，穷途末路，跌跌撞撞，与此同时，消耗生命的枯萎依然在朝着他的心脏进发。”

“He turned and ran. In his shock and haste, he dropped his lantern. It hissed as it fell into the lake of tears, and darkness descended. Still, he could just make out the glow of daylight up ahead. He ran toward it, scrambling desperately, even as the wasting death crept up his arm towards his heart.

“当时，他觉得那个僵尸男孩随时都有可能抓住他……但是这并没有发生。他感觉自己经历了永世，但事实上可能只过了几次心跳的时间，随后他冲出了黑暗，再次回到了沙漠的酷热之中。”

“At any moment, he expected to feel the deathly boy’s grasp upon him... but did not. After what felt like an eternity, but could only have been a matter of heartbeats, he burst from the darkness into the desert heat once more.

“‘对不起，’一个凄凉的声音在他背后萦绕。‘我不是故意的。’”

“‘I’m sorry,’ echoed a mournful voice from the gloom behind him. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

“至此，阿木木之墓出土。”卡尔墩说。“僵尸男孩重见天日。”

“And thus, the Tomb of Amumu was unearthed,” said old Khaldun, “and the deathly child released into the world.”

“但是每个人都知道他不是真的！”一个孩子大声喊，这是最年长的一个，可能刚才的那段沉默让他感到不安。

“But everyone knows he isn’t real!” cried one of the children, the oldest of them, after a moment of silence.

“阿木木是真的！”最小的孩子说。“他在四处徘徊，想要找到一个朋友！”

“Amumu is real!” said the youngest. “He’s wandering the land trying to find a friend!”

“他是真的，但他不是个男孩，”另一个孩子说。“他是个约德尔人！”

“He’s real, but he isn’t a boy,” said another. “He’s a Yordle!”

卡尔墩笑了起来，用力拄着一根疙疙瘩瘩的拐棍站了起来。

Khaldun laughed, and pushed himself to his feet with the aid of a gnarled walking stick.

“我是个老头子了，我们明天还要走很远的路，”他说。“已经过了我睡觉的时间了。”

“I am old, and we have far to travel tomorrow,” he said. “It is past time I was abed.”

听众们开始散开，微笑着低声交谈，但有一个孩子没有走。她盯着卡尔墩，眼睛一眨不眨。

His audience began to dissipate, smiling and talking in low, familial voices, but one child did not move. She stared at Khaldun, unblinking.

“爷爷，”她说。“你这只胳膊是怎么没的？”

“Grandfather,” she said. “How did you lose your arm?”

年迈的卡尔顿看了看自己肩膀以下这条空洞的袖子，对着小女孩咧嘴一笑。

Old Khaldun looked down at the empty sleeve pinned at his shoulder, then flashed the girl a grin.

“晚安，小宝宝。”他一边说一边眨了眨眼。

“Goodnight, little one,” he said with a wink.