艺术即是生命 Art is Life

作者：Graham McNeill

诺克萨斯的夜晚从不安宁。

Nights in Noxus were never silent.

当你把帝国全境各地好几千人塞到一处，就别指望安静了。

You couldn’t cram so many thousands of people from all across the empire into one place and expect quiet.

沙漠行军歌从河边的扎加亚帐篷区飘过来，附近一座清算人竞技场中回荡着刀剑碰撞的打斗声。铁壁围栏里的亚龙犬嗅到了北边屠宰大院里刚被宰杀的牲畜，接二连三地发出躁动的嚎叫。

Desert marching songs from the Zagayah enclave drifted from their tented pavilions by the water, and the martial clashing of blades echoed from a nearby Reckoner’s arena. Drakehounds corralled in an iron-walled enclosure howled as they caught the scent of slaughtered livestock from the northern kill yards.

丧夫的寡妇、哀痛的母亲、或是被噩梦压身的老兵，各种哭喊的声音构成了夜色的和声，烘衬着醉酒士兵的大吼，以及专门在黑暗中生意的街头小贩。

The cries of widowed spouses, grief-stricken mothers, or nightmare-wracked veterans were a nightly chorus to accompany the roars of drunken soldiers and the promises of street hawkers who plied their trade best in the darkness.

不，诺克萨斯的夜晚从不安宁。

No, the nights in Noxus were never silent.

除了这里。

Except here.

诺克萨斯的这块地方是死一般的寂静。

This part of Noxus was deathly quiet.

玛乌拉胸前紧紧抱着她装满笔刷、颜料和炭棒的画具包，她明显感到诺克萨斯夜晚的喧闹渐渐褪去。声音的缺失发生得如此突然，如此惊人，让她在街道中央停下了脚步——这通常都很不明智——然后四下张望。

Maura held her pack of brushes, paints, and charcoals close to her chest as she felt the din of the Noxian night fade. The lack of sound was so sudden, so shocking, that she stopped in the middle of the street—never normally a good idea—and looked around.

这条街位于诺克萨斯城内较为古老、较为富裕的区域，莫尔托拉，也叫铁大门，但除此之外没有其他特别之处。一轮满月映在不规则的鹅卵石路上，如同一群默默注视的眼睛，街两边的房屋都用石块砌成，精湛的工艺或许出自某位战争石匠之手。玛乌拉在一条岔路的尽头看到一座高大的神庙，三个穿着盔甲的人影正在立柱下跪拜一座狼灵黑曜石像。他们一齐抬起头，玛乌拉赶紧走开了，蠢货才会招来在黑暗中带着剑祈祷的人的注意。

The street was in an older, wealthier district of Noxus known as Mortoraa, or Iron Gate, but was otherwise unremarkable. The light of a full moon reflected from its paving of irregular cobbles like scores of watching eyes, and the buildings to either side were well built with stone blocks that spoke of an experienced hand, perhaps that of a warmason. Maura saw a tall shrine at the end of a side street, where three armored figures knelt before the obsidian wolf within its pillared vault. They looked up in unison, and Maura hurried on, knowing it was unwise to attract the notice of men who prayed in the dark with swords.

她不应该天黑来这里。

She shouldn’t be out here in the dark.

塔沃曾经警告过她不要来，但她认得他眼中的蛇蝎，所以她知道那不是因为担心她的安危，而是出于嫉妒。他始终都认为自己才是他们小圈子里的最杰出画家。所以她作为这次委托的人选这件事深深地伤到了他。当那封折叠工整、字迹优雅的信被送到他们合用的画室的时候，瑟莉丝和康拉德都欢欣雀跃，央求她记住一切见闻，而泽卡只是告诉她务必把笔刷洗干净。

Tahvo had warned her not to go, but she’d seen the serpent in his eyes and knew it wasn’t fear for her safety that moved him, but envy. He had always believed himself to be the best painter in their little circle. That she had been selected for this commission instead of him cut deep. When the crisply folded and elegantly written letter had arrived at their shared studio, Cerise and Konrad had been elated, begging her to remember everything she could, while Zurka simply told her to be sure her brushes were clean.

“你觉得你会和他说话吗？”瑟莉丝在她临出门的时候问道。她开门的同时刚好听到港口那边的夜钟声渐渐消散。想到即将冒险走入黑暗，玛乌拉充满了同等的畏惧和激动。

“Do you think you’ll get to speak to him?” Cerise had asked as Maura opened the door to hear the drifting echoes of the night bell fading over the harbor. The idea of venturing out into the darkness filled Maura with equal parts dread and excitement.

“他要坐在那让我画肖像，所以我大概是必须和他说话吧，”她一边回答，一边指了指黑暗的夜空。“我们需要讨论他想要什么样的画，尤其考虑到我无法使用自然光。”

“He’s sitting for a portrait, so I suppose I shall have to,” she’d answered, pointing to the darkened sky. “We’ll need to discuss what manner of painting he wants, especially since I won’t have natural light.”

“在夜间完成肖像画，他的要求还真奇怪，啊？”康拉德说，他精神头十足，把毛毯像斗篷一样披在身上。

“Strange that he wants his portrait done at night, eh?” said Konrad, wide awake and wearing his blanket like a cloak.

“我很好奇他说话什么声音，”瑟莉丝又添了一嘴。

“I wonder what he sounds like,” added Cerise.

“就是普通人的声音，”塔沃厉声说道，他翻了个身，把挤出来的枕头瓤从破口塞了回去。“他又不是神，你也知道。他只是个普通人。然后，你们能不能别说了？我这睡觉呢。”

“Just like everyone else,” snapped Tahvo, rolling over and wadding his threadbare pillow. “He’s not a god, you know. He’s just a man. Now, will you all just shut up? I’m trying to sleep.”

瑟莉丝跑过去吻了她一下。“祝你好运，”她咯咯地笑着说。“回来讲给我们听……从头到尾，无论多下流。”

Cerise ran over and kissed her. “Good luck,” she giggled. “Come back and tell us… everything, no matter how sordid.”

玛乌拉的笑容僵了一下，但她点点头。“一定。我保证。”

Maura’s smile had faltered, but she nodded. “I will. I promise.”

前往新主顾宅邸的路线出奇地明确。不仅在于目的地明确，而且还清楚地写明了必须走哪条路。玛乌拉非常熟悉都城的地形，她曾无数次走在诺克萨斯城的街道上，比如那些饥肠辘辘的日子，还有他们的佣金凑不够数、被画室的房东提出门外赚房租的日子。

The directions to her new patron’s mansion were exceptionally specific. Not simply in her eventual destination, but in the precise route she must take to get there. Maura knew the geography of the capital well, having walked its streets for days when hunger gnawed her belly. Or when they couldn’t pool enough commission money, and the owner of their studio kicked them out until they’d earned enough to pay what was owed.

不过，这片城区对她来说神秘有加，这是理所当然的——诺克萨斯城里每个人都知道他住的地方，但几乎无人记得自己去过那里。街道感觉很陌生——更狭窄，更有压迫感，似乎每一处转角都在将两侧的墙越拉越近，最后要把她夹死。她快步向前穿过这令人胆寒的寂静，迫切地寻找亮光——或许是标志边界的灯笼，或者是上层窗户里的蜡烛，虽然那种烛光是为了指引夜里来示好的求爱者。

This part of town, though, was a growing mystery to her. She’d known the mansion was here, of course—everyone in Noxus knew where he lived, though few could recall ever going there. With every step she took, Maura felt like she’d wandered into a strange city in a newly-conquered land. The streets felt unfamiliar—narrower and more threatening, as if each twist and turn brought the walls closer and closer until they would eventually crush her. She hurried on through the unnerving quiet, craving a source of fresh light—a boundary lantern perhaps, or a low-burning candle in an upper window, set to guide a night-calling suitor.

但除了月亮之外没有其他任何光照。她的和步伐突然加速，因为她听到了什么声音，可能是身后的轻柔脚步声，也可能是一声期盼的叹息。

But there was no illumination beyond that of the moon. Her heartbeat and pace quickened as she heard what could be a soft footfall behind her, or the sigh of an expectant breath.

玛乌拉猛然急转弯，然后发现自己来到了一个圆形的小广场，中央的喷泉正在潺潺流淌。在如此拥挤的城市里，人们摩肩擦踵，可谓寸土寸金，这样空间浪费几乎是闻所未闻。

Turning a sharp corner, Maura found herself in a circular plaza with a fountain gurgling at its center. In a city as cramped as this, where people lived cheek by jowl and space was at a premium, such extravagance was almost unheard of.

她围着喷泉的水池绕圈，泉水被月光映成银色，池中央的喷泉雕塑栩栩如生。它由生铁锤铸而成，外观是一名无头战士的形象，身穿板甲、手握钉锤。

She circled the fountain’s pool, its water silver in the moonlight, admiring the sculpted realism of its carved centerpiece. Hammered from crude iron, it represented a headless warrior encased in thick war-plate, and bearing a spiked mace.

泉水从雕像的脖颈出流出，玛乌拉突然意识到它所代表的含义，不禁感到一丝凉意。

Water spilled from the neck of the statue, and Maura felt a chill as she realized who it was intended to represent.

她快步离开喷泉，走向一道银皮树风干木材质的双扇大门，带着红色纹理的黑色大理石墙挡住其它去路。正如信中的约定，大门是半开的，于是玛乌拉从两扇厚重的门板之间轻轻穿过。

She hurried past the fountain towards a double gate of seasoned silverbark set in a black wall of red-veined marble. As the letter had promised, it stood ajar, and Maura eased herself between its heavy leaves.

高墙之内的豪宅使用一种苍白的石头建成，这种石材她从未见过——威严庄重但又不是独石一块——许多诺克萨斯大型建筑都是如此。她观察了一番以后还发现，这幢宅子并没有遵循特定某一种建筑风格，而是融合了过去几百年里不同时期的建筑风潮。

The mansion within the walls had been built from a pale stone of a kind she hadn’t seen before—imposing without being monolithic, as a great many grand structures of Noxus often were. Nor, the more she studied it, did it adhere to any one particular style, but rather a collection of architectural movements that had come and gone over the centuries.

在所有奇特之处中格外醒目的是主楼上高高立起的粗糙塔楼，单是它的比例就显得突兀。这座塔楼给人感觉整座建筑都是围绕着某个古代萨满的老巢建起来的。这种视觉效果本应该十分不和谐，但玛乌拉倒是觉得喜欢，似乎这幢大宅的每个角度都在展示帝国逝去的一个时代。宅子的窗户全都紧闭，唯一能看到的光亮是在塔楼顶端的猩红色柔光。

Foremost among such oddities was a rough stone tower rising over the main building, and this portion alone appeared out of place. It gave the impression that the mansion had been built around some ancient shaman’s lair. The effect should have been jarring, but Maura rather liked it, as though every aspect of the mansion offered a glimpse into a bygone age of the empire. Its windows were shuttered and dark, and the only light she saw was a soft crimson glow at the tower’s summit.

脚下的石子路带她走进一座精致的花园，巧夺天工的植雕、精心设计的水渠、还有各种外观奇特的花朵，散发着争奇斗艳的色彩和异域风情的芬芳。此番美景，再加上门口的宽阔广场，无不展示着无以伦比的财富。而一想到她能成为这次委托的人选，让玛乌拉的手脚四肢发出一阵愉悦而温暖的颤抖。

She followed a graveled path through an exquisite garden of elaborate topiary, carefully directed waterways, and strange looking flowers with exotic scents and startlingly vivid colors. This, together with the spacious plaza outside, suggested fabulous wealth. The idea that she had been chosen for this task sent a frisson of pleasurable warmth through her limbs.

数百只色彩斑斓的蝴蝶拍打着花纹奇特的翅膀在花丛中飞舞。如此轻盈而又柔弱的生物，同时又是如此优美，还能够完成奇迹般的蜕变。玛乌拉从未在夜里见过蝴蝶，她欣喜地微笑着看到其中一只轻轻落在自己的掌心。锥形的躯干和展开的双翅上的图案居然构成了一枚诺克萨斯双刃斧纹章，那是每一面诺克萨斯旗帜上都印着的标志。蝴蝶拍拍翅膀飞走了，玛乌拉看到它盘旋着融入其他蝴蝶的群舞，看到这么多珍稀而又奇妙的生物让她惊叹不已。

Hundreds of colorful butterflies with curiously patterned wings flitted to and fro between the flowers. Such light and fragile creatures, yet so beautiful and capable of the most miraculous transformation. Maura had never seen butterflies at night, and she laughed with joy as one alighted on her palm. The tapered shape of its body and the patterning on its outstretched wings was uncannily similar to the winged-blade heraldry she saw flying on every Noxian flag. The butterfly fluttered its wings and flew away. Maura watched it circle and swoop with the others, amazed to see so many rare and wonderful creatures.

她一边走，一边伸出手指扫过五颜六色的树叶，细细品味着指尖残留的余韵，腾起的微尘在月光下闪闪发光。她停在一朵格外美丽的花朵前，红彤彤的花瓣如火焰般明亮，让她忘记呼吸。

She let her fingers brush the colorful leaves as she passed, savoring the scents clinging to her fingertips and drifting up in motes of dust that glittered in the moonlight. She paused by a particularly beautiful bloom, one with flame-red petals so bright they took her breath away.

无论是用恕瑞玛朱砂还是皮尔特沃夫赭石，她从未调出过如此有光泽的红色。即使是贵到倾家荡产的艾欧尼亚朱红也相形见绌。她用力咬着自己的下嘴唇，犹豫不决，最后她伸出手，从最近的一朵花上摘下了几片花瓣。花朵其余的花瓣立刻向内卷曲，然后花茎扭向了另一边，似乎是在害怕。玛乌拉感到一阵无地自容的罪恶，看向大宅子的方向，确认自己有没有被看到，但窗户依然全都紧闭着，没有透出灯光。

No red she had ever mixed from Shuriman cinnabar or Piltovan ochre had achieved such luster. Even the ruinously expensive Ionian vermillions were dull by comparison. She chewed her bottom lip as she considered what she was about to do, then reached out to pluck a number of petals from the nearest plant. The flower’s remaining petals immediately curled inwards, and the stem bent away from her as if in fear. Maura felt terrible guilt and looked up at the mansion to see if she had been observed, but the shuttered windows remained closed and lightless.

正门是开着的，她在门槛前暂时停住。信中指示她直接进入，但现在玛乌拉真正站到这里，却产生了一种奇怪的抵触感。这是不是某种陷阱，在引诱她走向某种不可言说的命运？如果真是这样，那这个陷阱可真是过分奢华了。这个想法简直可笑，玛乌拉斥责自己的胆小，居然叫恐惧阻挡自己前往可能是此生最重大的机遇。

The front door stood open, and she paused at its threshold. The letter had told her to enter, but now that she was here, Maura felt a curious reluctance. Was this some trap, a means to lure her to some unspeakable fate? If so, it seemed needlessly elaborate. The notion felt absurd, and Maura chided herself for letting fear get in the way of what was likely to be the greatest opportunity of her life.

她深吸一口气，跨过门槛，进入了大宅。

She took a breath, stepped across the threshold, and entered the mansion.

拱形的前厅由黑色厚重的木架支撑，木架之间的墙壁上装饰着的壁画已经褪色，上面描绘着帝国早期的血腥时代。玛乌拉的左右两侧，长长的走廊墙上挂满了画，但阴影的垂帘将画作遮住，看不出上面究竟画的是什么人或什么物。一条弯曲的楼梯高高攀向中间层和一道宽大的拱门，但再往远就什么都看不清了。空荡荡的前厅里只有一个看上去像是画架的物件，上面可能架好了画板和画布，但被一块布遮得严严实实。玛乌拉小心翼翼地接近被遮住的画板，心想这里会不会就是他要作画的地方。

The vestibule was vaulted by dark and heavy timbers, with faded murals of the empire’s early, bloody days painted in the spaces between. To Maura’s left and right, wide openings revealed long galleries draped in shadow, making it difficult to tell who or what might be displayed. A long, curving staircase climbed to an upper mezzanine and a wide archway, but what lay beyond was impossible to make out. The vestibule was all but empty, save for what looked like a large, sheet-draped canvas upon an easel. Maura tentatively approached the covered canvas, wondering if this was to be where she would paint.

这可不是她所希望的。这里的光线并不适合画肖像。有月光浇在鱼骨纹地板上的地方，光线足够亮，但其他地方则是完全的黑暗，似乎就连月光也不愿意接近那些角落。

She hoped not. The light in here was ill-suited to portraiture. Where moonlight pooled on the herringbone floor, the space was bright, but elsewhere it was entirely dark, as though the light refused to approach those corners.

“你好？”她的声音回荡在前厅中。“我收到一封信……”

“Hello?” she said, and her voice echoed throughout the vestibule. “I have a letter…”

玛乌拉的声音飘去又飘回，她四下寻找其他人的踪迹，但她发现在这深更半夜的陌生大宅中只有她独自一人。

Her words lingered, and Maura sought in vain for any sign she wasn’t entirely alone in this strange house in the middle of the night.

“你好？”她又开口说道。“有人吗？”

“Hello?” she said again. “Is anyone here?”

“我在这，”一个声音说道。

“I am here,” said a voice.

玛乌拉跳了起来。这个声音中透出教养、风度、以及陈年的醇香。声音似乎是从上方传来的，同时又像是在她耳边没有气息的低语。她原地左顾右盼，寻找说话的人。

Maura jumped. The words were cultured, masculine, and redolent with age. They seemed to drift down from above and be breathlessly whispered in her ear at the same time. She turned on the spot, searching for the speaker.

只有她自己。

She was alone.

“您是弗拉基米尔吗？”她问道。

“Are you Vladimir?” she asked.

“是我，没错，”他回答道。他的声音中承载着一种深沉的忧伤，似乎这个名字本身就是一种折磨。“你是那位画家。”

“I am, yes,” he replied, his voice freighted with deep melancholy as if the name itself were a source of torment. “You are the painter.”

“是的，是我。我是画家，”她说完又马上补充道，“我的名字是玛乌拉•贝岑尼娅。我是画家。”

“Yes. That’s me. I’m the painter,” she said, adding, “My name is Maura Betzenia. I’m the painter.”

她咒骂自己的笨拙，然后突然意识到他刚才最后一句话并不是在提问。

She cursed her clumsiness before realizing his last words had not been a question.

“很好。我已经等你很久了。”

“Good. I have been waiting a long time for you.”

“噢，十分抱歉，先生。信上写我要等到港口的钟声响过以后再出发。”

“Oh. My apologies, sir. The letter said I wasn’t to leave until the harbor bell rang.”

“的确是那么写的，而且你到达的时间不早也不晚，”弗拉基米尔说，这一次玛乌拉觉得她在黑影中看到了一丝更加深邃的黑色。“要怪我自己，因为我拖延了这么久才找到你这样的人。虚荣让我们变得愚蠢，不是吗？”

“Indeed it did, and you have arrived precisely when you were supposed to,” said Vladimir, and this time Maura thought she saw a sliver of deeper black in the shadows. “It is I who am at fault, for I have been delaying sending for someone like you much too long. Vanity makes fools of us all, does it not?”

“是虚荣？”玛乌拉问道，她知道富有的主顾都喜欢奉承话。“亦或只是在等待正确的时间来捕捉您真实的尊荣？”

“Is it vanity?” asked Maura, knowing the wealthier patrons liked to be flattered. “Or simply waiting for the right moment to capture the truth of your appearance?”

上方传来一阵笑声。玛乌拉无法判断他是由衷地愉悦，还是在嘲笑她。

Laughter drifted down from above. Maura couldn’t decide if he thought she’d said something funny or was mocking her.

“每次都是不同的方式说着相同的话，”弗拉基米尔说。“但说实话，这就像是不定期的节日。对了，你喜欢我的花园吗？”

“I hear a variation of that every time,” said Vladimir. “And as to truth, well, that is a moveable feast. Tell me, did you like my garden?”

玛乌拉感觉这个问题里带着陷阱，犹豫了一下才给出回答。

Maura sensed a trap in the question, and hesitated before answering.

“喜欢，”她说。“我没想到从诺克萨斯的土地里还能长出那么美的东西。”

“I did,” she said. “I had no idea you could grow anything that beautiful in Noxian soil.”

“的确长不出，”弗拉基米尔的声音里有一种扭曲的愉悦。“这么贫瘠的土地只能长出最顽强的品种，它们能传播到很远很广的地方，挤垮其它所有草木。但它们没一个能被称为美。你杀死的那朵红花，它是一株夜之花。”

“You cannot,” said Vladimir with wry amusement. “Such thin soil produces only the hardiest specimens, ones that spread far and wide to drive out all others. But none of them could be called beautiful. The red flower you killed, it was a nightbloom.”

玛乌拉感到口干舌燥，但弗拉基米尔似乎并不在意她那时的举动。

Maura felt her mouth go dry, but Vladimir appeared not to care what she had done.

“夜之花曾经是东边一座岛上的本土植物，那是一个福光普照的圣地，充满了珍稀的美好和启迪。”他说。“我在那生活过一阵子，直到它被破坏，正如所有凡间事物最终都免不了被破坏。岛上有一个喜怒无常的自然之灵打理着一片苗圃，我从那里拿了一些种子带回了瓦洛兰，在这里我可以用血与泪的交融诱使它们生根发芽。”

“Nightblooms were once native to an island chain in the east, a blessed place of rare beauty and enlightenment,” he said. “I dwelled there for a time until it was destroyed, as all mortal endeavors ultimately must be. I took some seeds from a grove once tended by a temperamental nature spirit and brought them back to Valoran, where I was able to entice them to grow with a combination of blood and tears.”

“您指的是血、汗与泪的交融吧？”

“Don’t you mean blood, sweat, and tears?”

“孩子，汗水在栽培花卉的时候能有何用？”

“My dear, what possible use would sweat be in growing a flower?”

玛乌拉没有回答，但他说话时如音乐般的韵律非常诱人。她能听上一整夜。玛乌拉甩开了弗拉基米尔迷离声音带来的天鹅绒质感，向那具盖着布的画架点了下头。

Maura had no answer, but the musical cadence of his voice was seductive. She could listen to it all night. Maura shook off the velvet quality of Vladimir’s drifting voice and nodded towards the covered canvas.

“我是要在那里作画吗？”她问。

“Is that where I am to paint?” she asked.

“不，”弗拉基米尔说。“那只不过是我的第一次。”

“No,” said Vladimir. “That was merely my first.”

“您的第一次什么？”

“Your first what?”

“我的第一次生命，”话音未落，她掀起了遮布。

“My first life,” he said as she lifted the edge of the sheet.

这幅画已经旧得褪色了，光照漂白了色彩，时间磨平了笔触。不过画中的力量依然强健——一个年富力强的青年男子，穿着古老样式的青铜板甲，肩上飘扬的旗帜中画着一把凶狠弯曲的镰刀。大多数细节都已经丢失了，但他那一双蓝眼睛依然炯炯有神。这张脸格外英俊、端正、而且稍稍倾斜的角度让她目不转睛。

The painting had faded with the passage of time, its colors bleached by light, and the brushstrokes flattened. But the image was still powerful—a young man on the cusp of adulthood, armored in archaic-looking bronze plate and bearing a fluttering banner depicting a wickedly curved scythe blade. Much of the detail had been lost, but the boy’s blue eyes were still piercingly bright. The face was extraordinarily handsome, symmetrical and with a tilt of the head that captivated her gaze.

玛乌拉靠近了一些，看到男子身后有一支军队，那是一群魁梧高大的战士，那样庞大的身躯不可能是人类，而野兽般的外形甚至不可能真实存在。他们的轮廓和特征都已经年久褪色、模糊不清，玛乌拉暗自感谢这小小的仁慈。

Maura leaned in and saw an army behind the young man, a host of hulking warriors too large to be human, too bestial to be real. Their outlines and features had faded with age, and Maura was thankful for that small mercy.

“这是您吗？”她问道，并期待他显露真身，当面讲解这幅肖像。

“This is you?” she asked, hoping he might appear to explain the portrait in person.

“那是很久，很久以前了，”弗拉基米尔的声音让玛乌拉觉得有冰霜混入其中。“我曾是一个王国的多余的继承人，而那个王国早已消失在众神之间兵戎相见的战争中。他们的纷争殃及全世界，而凡人只不过是廉价的兵卒，所以有一天轮到我的父王向一位人间神明臣服，于是我就作为皇族的人质被交了出去。按理来说，我父王的忠诚是以我性命安危相胁迫的。如果他背信弃义、另投他主，那么我就会被杀掉。但我父王的承诺从来都是言而无信的。他根本不在乎我，所以一年之内他就打破了誓言。”

“Once, a long, long time ago,” said Vladimir, and Maura felt ice enter his words. “I was an unneeded heir of a long-vanished kingdom, in an age when gods made war on one another. Mortals were pawns in their world-spanning strife, and when the time came for my father to bend the knee to a living god, I was given up as a royal hostage. In theory, my father’s loyalty would be assured by the constant threat to my life. Should he break faith with his new master, I would be slain. But like all my father’s promises, it was empty. He cared nothing for me, and broke his oath within the year.”

弗拉基米尔所讲的故事离奇而又梦幻，让玛乌拉想起他们在画室的天台上互相讲故事时，康拉德讲的恕瑞玛恐怖神话。只不过他的故事都是一些戴着面纱的道德说教，而这个故事……这个故事背后有着真相的份量，而且没有受到任何感情色彩的污染。

The story Vladimir was telling was strange and fantastical, like the Shuriman myths Konrad told when they shared scare stories on the roof of the studio at night. Konrad’s tales were thinly veiled morality plays, but this… this had a weight of truth behind it, and felt uncontaminated by sentimentality.

“但我的新主人没有杀掉我，而是为我准备了一些更有乐趣的计划。当然，只是对他来说的乐趣。他给了我一个机会，让我带着他的军队攻占我父王的国家，于是我欣然接受了。我摧毁了父王的城市，将他的头颅呈给了我的主人。我是一条拴在链子上的忠良猎犬。”

“But instead of killing me, my new master had something altogether more amusing in mind. Amusing for him, at any rate. He offered me the chance to lead his armies against my father’s kingdom, an offer I gladly accepted. I destroyed my father’s city and presented his head to my master. I was a good and faithful hound on a leash.”

“你毁灭了自己的人民？为什么？”

“You destroyed your own people? Why?”

弗拉基米尔停顿了一下，似乎是要判断她的这个问题是不是认真的。

Vladimir paused as though trying to decide if her question was serious.

“因为即使天神战士没有来，我父王的王国也永远不会成为我的，”他说。“他的儿子和继承人多得很，而我永远都活不到有资格争权的那一天。”

“Because even if the god-warriors had not come, my father’s kingdom would never have been mine,” he said. “He had sons and heirs aplenty, and I would never have lived long enough to claim my birthright.”

“你的主人为什么会逼你做出这种事？”

“Why would your master make you do that?”

“我以前觉得是因为他在我身上看到了伟大潜力的闪光，或者是超越凡人的潜能，”弗拉基米尔轻叹一口气，让玛乌拉脊梁感到一阵暖流并颤抖起来。“但更合理的解释是他单纯为了乐趣，教会低等宠物特殊技巧的乐趣，就像流浪艺人教会猴子围绕货摊跳舞，从而吸引容易上当的顾客。”

“I used to think it was because he saw a spark of greatness within me, or the potential to be something more than a mere mortal,” said Vladimir with a soft sigh that sent warm shivers down Maura’s spine. “But more likely he just thought it would be amusing to teach one of his mortal pets some tricks, as the mountebank teaches a monkey to dance around his stall, to attract the gullible.”

玛乌拉又看回画中的那名男子，现在她能在那双眼中看到某种更加黑暗的东西藏在深处。可能是一丝残忍，或是一抹正在酝酿的怨恨。

Maura looked back at the image of the young man in the picture, now seeing something dark lurking deeper in the eyes. A hint of cruelty perhaps, a glint of festering bitterness.

“他教会了你什么？”玛乌拉问道。虽然她并不确定自己真的想听到答案，但她心中有种力量需要探究。

“What did he teach you?” asked Maura. As much as she wasn’t sure she wanted an answer, something in her needed to know.

“我的主人近乎拥有拒绝死亡的力量——塑造血肉和骨骼，制成最精美的形态，”弗拉基米尔继续说。“他教会我其中一些技艺，那些他运用起来如同呼吸一样自如的魔法。但我用尽了全部智力和意志才能掌握最简单的咒语。我后来才知道，将他们的秘密传授给凡人是一种死亡的禁忌，但我的主人就是喜欢炫耀他们族类的高等。”

“My master’s kind had the power to defy death—to sculpt flesh, blood, and bone into the most wondrous forms,” continued Vladimir. “He taught me something of their arts, magic he wielded as easily as breathing. But it took every scrap of my intellect and will to master even the simplest of cantrips. I was later to learn that teaching their secrets to mortals was forbidden under pain of death, but my master delighted in flaunting the mores of his kind.”

弗拉基米尔不知从何处发出的笑声回荡在她身边，这笑声中毫无欢愉。

Vladimir’s sourceless laughter echoed around her, yet there was no mirth to the sound.

“他忍不住要挑战传统，而到最后，这也造就了他的灭亡。”

“He couldn’t help challenging convention, and in the end, it was his undoing.”

“他死了吗？”她问。

“He died?” she asked.

“是的，他的一个同类背叛了他们，于是他们凌驾于这个世界之上的力量崩塌了。我的主人被他的敌人联合讨伐，他让我率领他的军队保护他。正相反，我杀了他，还汲取了一部分他的力量，因为我从未忘记他多年来在我身上制造的残忍伤痛。夺走他的生命只是第一步，而随后的漫漫长路远远超出我的想象。这是一份鲜血的馈赠，既是恩典，又是诅咒。”

“Yes. When one of his kind betrayed them, their power over this world was broken. My master’s enemies united against him, and he looked to me to lead his armies in his defense. Instead, I killed him and drank in a measure of his power, for I had not forgotten the many cruelties he had inflicted upon me over the years. Taking his life was my first step on a road far longer than I ever could have imagined. A boon and a curse in one bloody gift.”

玛乌拉在弗拉基米尔的语调中听到了回味，也听到了悲伤，似乎这次谋杀刻在他灵魂上的痕迹从未消失。他是因为这次痛下杀手而感到罪恶，或者只是在操纵她的情绪？

Maura heard the relish in Vladimir’s tone, but also sadness, as if the mark this murder had cut on his soul had never truly left him. Did he feel guilt at this killing, or was he simply trying to manipulate her emotions?

看不到他本人让她很难揣测他的动机。

Not being able to see him made it that much harder to divine his intent.

“这幅画就讲到这里，”弗拉基米尔说。“的确是性命攸关，但这只是我许多次生命中的一次。如果你要让这一次生命成为不朽，那你就一定要先见过我这些年来经历过的其他生命，然后我们才可以正式开始。”

“But enough of this painting,” said Vladimir. “It is vital, yes, but only one of my accumulated lives. If you are to immortalize this one, you must see the others I have experienced over the years before we can truly begin.”

玛乌拉转向楼梯，末端的阴影向柔软的黑色潮水一样退下。她舔了舔嘴唇，再次意识到这座空旷的大房子里只有她和弗拉基米尔，而这个人刚刚承认自己谋杀了父亲以及怪物般的导师。

Maura turned to the stairs as the shadows draping their length retreated like a soft, black tide. She licked her lips, conscious again that she was alone in this echoing mansion with Vladimir, a man who had just admitted to murdering his father and his monstrous mentor.

“犹豫了？真的吗？”他说。“你已经走出了这么远。而我也将如此多的灵魂坦露给了你。”

“Hesitation? Really?” he said. “You have come this far. And I have already bared so much of my soul to you.”

玛乌拉知道他这是在怂恿她走上楼梯。单凭这一点就足以让她离开这里回到朋友身边了。但即便她清楚地知道自己应该感到害怕，她身体中的一部分还是期待着成为弗拉基米尔关注的焦点，想要感受他强大的视线落在自己身上。

Maura knew he was goading her into climbing the stairs. That alone ought to make her leave and return to her friends. But as much as she knew she should be afraid, part of her thrilled to be the center of Vladimir’s attention, to feel the power of his gaze upon her.

“来我这里，”他继续说。“了解我究竟要你做什么。然后，如果你觉得任务太艰巨并选择离开，我是不会阻拦的。”

“Come to me,” he continued. “See what it is I ask of you. And then, if you feel the task is too great and choose to leave, I will not stop you.”

“不会的，”她说。“我要知道全部。”

“No,” she said. “I want to know it all.”

楼梯中间层上方的拱门通向一条宽阔的走廊，墙壁的黑色石料出奇地冰冷，几乎冻住了玛乌拉的呼吸。黑色石墙上固定着一排又一排的漆面木板。

The archway atop the mezzanine led into a wide corridor of dark stone that was so shockingly cold, it took Maura’s breath away. Fixed to the dark walls were row upon row of lacquered wooden boards.

在木板上钉着的是数千只翅膀被展平的蝴蝶。

And pinned to these boards were many thousands of butterflies with spread wings.

悲悯之情触碰到玛乌拉。“这是什么？”

Sadness touched Maura. “What is this?”

“我的众多收藏之一，”弗拉基米尔的声音似乎没有来源，又好像来自四面八方。这声音引着她继续沿着走廊前进。

“One of my collections,” said Vladimir, his voice coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. It drew her onwards along the corridor.

“你为什么要杀死它们？”

“Why did you kill them?”

“为了研究它们。不然呢？这些生命是如此短暂。稍微提前一点结束它们并不是什么太大的损失。”

“To study them. Why else? These creatures live such short lives. To end them a moment sooner is no great loss.”

“蝴蝶们可能不这么想。”

“The butterfly might disagree.”

“可是要看到每一次死亡教给我的东西。”

“But look at what each death taught me.”

“您的意思是？”

“What do you mean?”

“你在花园里看到那些蝴蝶？它们不存在于自然界任何地方。它们是独一无二的，因为是我创造了它们的唯一性。我用意志和知识，打造出了一个全新的物种。”

“The butterflies you saw in the garden? They exist nowhere else in nature. They are unique because I made them so. With will and knowledge, I have wrought entire species into being.”

“那种事怎么可能做得到？”

“How is that possible?”

“因为，我和那些天神一样，我选择哪些活下来哪些死去。”

“Because, like the gods, I choose which ones live and which ones die.”

玛乌拉将手伸向最近的一只蝴蝶标本，这只的前翅膀上带着鲜艳的猩红色圆圈。她的手指刚碰到蝴蝶的身体，它的翅膀就立刻瓦解了，其余的部分也像古老的颜料图层一样剥落破碎。

Maura reached out to the nearest pinned butterfly, one with vivid crimson circles on the larger part of its wings. As soon as her finger brushed the insect’s body, its wings disintegrated and the rest of it crumbled like ancient, flaking paint.

一股冷风拂过玛乌拉，她紧张地向后退，碎屑灰烟像瀑布一样下落，如一股浪潮在穿针的标本之间波及开来。数十只，然后上百只蝴蝶全都化为粉末，像火堆被盖灭一样腾起烟尘和灰烬。她惊叫着冲向走廊尽头，狂乱地挥舞着双手，扇开面前的灰尘。她感到尘埃钻进了衣服里，落进了耳朵眼，嘴里还含出昆虫尸体的颗粒感，连忙向外吐。

A cold wind sighed past Maura, and she stepped back in alarm as a cascade of dissolution swept across the pinned specimens. Scores, then hundreds of butterflies crumbled to powder that spun in the air like ash and cinders stirred from a banked fire. She cried out and rushed down the corridor, frantically waving her hands to brush the dust from her face. It grazed the skin beneath her clothes, and she spat as she tasted the grit of insect bodies in her mouth, felt it gather in her ears.

最后她停了下来，睁开眼睛，感觉似乎声音和光线的质感变了。她抹了一把脸上的灰，发现自己进入了一个宽阔的圆形房间。

She stopped and opened her eyes as she felt the quality of sound and light change. She rubbed dust from her face, seeing she had entered into a wide, circular chamber.

玛乌拉喘了口气，仔细环顾四周，然后冷静了下来，将脸上和衣服上的灰尘清理干净。这个房间的墙壁是古法切出的石块，她猜测自己正站在那座古老塔楼的底层。内壁上的粗削楼梯以顺时针方向向上盘旋，一道奇异的红宝石光芒隔着一层隐约的帷幕从上面某个地方投下来。空气中弥漫着炽热金属的味道，就像喂养着帝国战争渴望的武具煅炉中喷出的钢铁热风。

Maura took a moment to look around and regain her composure, brushing the last of the dust from her face and clothes. The walls of the chamber were primitively cut stone, and she guessed she stood within the base of the ancient tower. A rough-hewn staircase corkscrewed its way up the interior walls, and strange, ruby light fell in shimmering veils from somewhere high above. The air smelled of hot metal, like the iron winds carried from the bulk forges that fed the empire’s insatiable hunger for armor and weapons.

塔楼底层的环形墙壁上挂满了肖像画，她小心翼翼地贴着这圆形画廊的边缘前进，一幅接一幅地研究这些画作。无论是装裱还是画工，没有任何两幅是一样的，有粗放的抽象派，也有及其逼真写实、甚至像是一张真人面孔被禁锢在画布的纤维交错中。她认出了其中一些画的个人风格，那些都是几百年前的名家大师。

The circular walls were hung with portraits, and she moved cautiously around the gallery’s circumference, studying each painting in turn. No two were alike in their framing or style, ranging from crude abstracts to renderings so lifelike it was as if a real face were imprisoned within the warp and weft of the canvas. She recognized the styles of some, the work of masters of the craft who had lived centuries ago.

前厅的那幅画里画的是一名风华正茂的年轻男子，而这里的画作虽然也混杂着同一个人，但却是在截然不同的生命阶段。

Where the painting in the vestibule was that of a young man in his prime, these were a mixture of the same individual, but at very different times in his life.

一幅画里的他正处于中年，依然体格健壮、精神饱满，只不过眼中多了一点怨恨。另外一幅画里的他则老态龙钟、受尽岁月的摧残，玛乌拉甚至不敢确定里面画的是不是活人。还有另一幅画里，画中的他带着血淋淋的伤口，身处于一场大战的尾声，身后是一尊巨大的象牙色石像。

One showed him in his middle years, still fit and hearty, but with a bitter cast to his eyes. Another was a portrait of a man so aged and ravaged that Maura wasn’t even sure it had been painted while its subject was alive. Yet another depicted him bloodily wounded in the aftermath of a great battle before a titanic statue of ivory stone.

“这些怎么可能都是你？”她问。

“How can these all be you?” she asked.

答案从红光的帷幕彼端飘下来。

The answer drifted down in the veils of red light.

“我的生命和你们不一样。我曾经主人的血液中流淌的天赋永远地改变了我。你应该已经懂了吧？”

“I do not live as you do. The gift carried in my former master’s blood changed me forever. I thought you understood that?”

“我懂。我是说，我觉得我懂。”

“I do. I mean, I think I do.”

“你身边的画都是我许多次生命中的不同瞬间。并不都是伟大的瞬间，我后来才逐渐意识到。捕捉这些瞬间的也大都是刚能出师的熟练画匠。在我存在于世的早年间，我太狂妄自大，以为自己的每个事迹都值得这样的纪念，但现在……”

“The paintings around you are moments of my many lives. Not all great moments, I have come to realize, and captured by journeymen for the most part. In the earliest days of my existence I was arrogant enough to believe my every deed was worthy of such commemoration, but now…”

“现在怎么了？”玛乌拉在他欲言又止的时候问道。

“But now?” asked Maura, when he didn’t continue.

“现在只有遇到关乎世界格局的重大转折点，我才会将我的生命续新于画布之上。上楼来，你将看到我说的意思。”

“Now I only commit the renewal of my life to canvas amid events that mark turning points in the affairs of the world. Climb the steps, and see what I mean.”

玛乌拉发现圆圈的画廊将她送到了楼梯口，似乎她脚下的每一步都是为了让她站到这里。不只是今晚，而是从她在科瑞克瑟时第一次拿起画笔并画出母亲农场上的动物开始的每一步。

Maura found her circuit of the gallery had brought her to the base of the stairs, as though her every step had led her to this point. Not just tonight, but every moment since she had first picked up a brush and painted the animals on her mother’s farm in Krexor.

“为什么选我？”她问道。“为什么站在这里的是我？诺克萨斯城里有许多比我优秀的艺术家。”

“Why me?” she asked. “Why am I here? There are other artists in Noxus better than me.”

一串轻柔的笑声飘荡在她周围

A soft chuckle drifted around her.

“多么谦虚。是的，的确有些艺术家的技巧比你更高超，”弗拉基米尔说。“比如说，你那个眼红的同事，塔沃，他对视角的理解永远比你强。年轻的瑟莉丝对色彩的运用很出众，而严苛的泽卡拥有一双捕捉细节的眼睛，所以他的作品让人百看不厌。而康拉德呢，是永远不会高出业余水平的，这你也知道。”

“Such modesty. Yes, it is true there are artists more technically proficient than you,” said Vladimir. “Your jealous colleague, Tahvo, for example, understands perspective better than you ever will. Young Cerise’s use of color is outstanding, and the stoic Zurka has an eye for detail that makes his work endlessly fascinating. Konrad, however, will never be more than a dabbler, but you already know this.”

“你了解我的朋友们？”她说。

“You know my friends?” she said.

“当然。你觉得我是随随便便选出你的吗？”

“Of course. Did you think I chose you at random?”

“我不知道。那你是怎么选出我的呢？”

“I don’t know. How did you choose me?”

“要捕捉到这样一个变化的瞬间，我需要一个将心与灵倾注于作品的人，一个真正配得上艺术家之名的人。这就是你站在这里的原因，玛乌拉•贝岑尼娅。因为对你来说每一笔都是感情。画布上的每个痕迹，调色盘上的每个颜色，对你来说都有意义。你能理解一幅画作的心，也愿意用灵魂去捕捉它所代表的生命。”

“To capture such a transformative moment, I required someone whose heart and soul goes into their work, an artist truly worthy of the name. That is why you are here, Maura Betzenia. Because every brushstroke is personal to you. Every mark on the canvas, every choice of color has meaning. You understand the heart of a painting, and willingly give something of your soul to capture the life it represents.”

玛乌拉曾经听到过雇主的奉承和来自画家同行的空洞赞美，但弗拉基米尔的话充满诚意。他说的每一个字都是真心实意的，听到这样的肯定让她欢欣鼓舞。

Maura had heard the flattery of patrons and the empty praise of her fellow painters before, but Vladimir’s words were utterly sincere. He meant every word, and her heart lifted to hear such affirmation.

“为什么是现在？这个瞬间有什么特别之处，让你想要给自己画像？你刚才说的是……只有在关乎世界格局的转折点才画像吧？”

“Why now? What’s so special about this moment in time that you want your portrait painted? What was it you said? You only have a painting done at a turning point in the affairs of the world…”

弗拉基米尔的声音似乎在他说话的同时正在盘旋。

Vladimir’s voice seemed to coil around her as he spoke.

“这样的时刻已经到了。我生活在此已经很久了，玛乌拉。足以将铁铠冥魂逐出他的不朽堡垒；足以看着一代代统治者步其后尘，踩着自己同胞兄弟的尸体爬上权力的宝座，再被自己的野心拖到谷底；足以知晓帝国心脏中潜藏的病灶——一朵根植于腐朽土壤的午夜花朵。我们曾经双双起舞，呜，她和我在鲜血中舞蹈了数百年，但音乐的节拍速度已经变了，这支舞也已接近尾声。我正在和蠢货一起化妆游行，这次生命……并不适合接下来必将到来的。”

“And such a moment is upon us. I have dwelled here for such a long time, Maura. Long enough to oust the Iron Revenant from his Immortal Bastion, long enough to see the many rulers who came after him claw their way to power over the corpses of their brothers before treacherous ambition brought them low. Long enough to know the canker that lurks at the empire’s heart—a midnight flower with roots in old and corrupt soil. We have danced, she and I—oh, how we have danced in blood over the centuries, but the tempo of the music has changed, and the dance nears its end. This parade of fools I walk among, this life… it is unsuited for what must come next.”

“我不明白。什么必将到来？”

“I don’t understand. What is coming next?”

“如果换成是以前，几乎任何时候我都能信心十足地回答这个问题，”弗拉基米尔继续说。“但现在……？我不知道。我只知道我必须做出改变并面对它。我已经处于被动局面太久，甚至听惯了奴才和门客的阿谀奉承。但现在我已经准备好夺回属于自己的东西，那个长久以来一直拒绝我的东西——我自己的王国。这就是永生，玛乌拉。是我的，也是你的。”

“At almost any other time before, I could have answered that with certainty,” continued Vladimir. “But now…? I do not know. All I know is that I must change to face it. I have been passive for too long, and allowed flunkies and hangers-on to fawn over my every whim. But now I am ready to take what is mine, that which was for so long denied me—a kingdom of my own. This is immortality, Maura. Mine and yours.”

“永生……？”

“Immortality…?”

“当然。难道不正是战士的武勋和艺术家的作品让他们获得永生的吗？他们的作品传承于世，超越了凡人短暂的生命。德玛西亚人将王国的奠基者放进了他们必须坚守的战斗信条中用以纪念；几千年前书写的文学作品如今依然有人表演；符文战争之前脱胎于大理石的雕塑如今依然受人景仰。”

“Of course. Is it not by the warriors’ deeds and artists’ craft that they achieve immortality? The legacy of their work lives on beyond the feeble span of mortal lives. Demacia reveres the warriors who founded it in the martial tenets to which they dogmatically cleave. Great works of literature set down thousands of years ago might still be performed, and sculptures freed from blocks of marble in the ages before the Rune Wars are still viewed with awe by those who can find them.”

玛乌拉完全清醒地意识到，爬上这段楼梯就相当于走上不归路、走上绝路。曾有过多少艺术家站在她现在的位置？其中有多少抬起了脚，踏上了第一级台阶？

Maura sensed with complete clarity that to climb these stairs would be committing to something irrevocable, something final. How many other artists had stood where she was right now? How many had lifted their foot and placed it on the first step?

有多少上去又下来？

How many had come back down?

有多少立刻转身离开？

How many had turned and walked away?

玛乌拉现在就可以走开，她十分确信。弗拉基米尔并没有对她说谎。如果她选择离开，无疑能够毫发无伤地回到画室。但从今往后直到狼灵或羊灵找上她，她要如何每日面对一个没有勇气抓住唯一机会创造旷世奇作的自己？

Maura could leave now, of that she was certain. Vladimir was not lying to her. If she chose to leave, she had no doubt she would arrive back at the studio unharmed. But how could she face each day from now until the Wolf or the Lamb came for her, knowing she had lacked the courage to take this one chance to create something incredible?

“玛乌拉，”弗拉基米尔说着，这一次他的声音就在她正前方。

“Maura,” said Vladimir, and this time his silken voice was right before her.

她抬起头，他就在那里。

She looked up, and there he was.

他的轮廓突显于上方的红光中间，他的身形纤细凌乱。满头白发全都梳到脑后，一群猩红色翅膀的蝴蝶密密麻麻地飞舞在上方。

Silhouetted against the red light drifting down from above, his form slender and cursive. White hair streamed behind him, and swarms of crimson-winged butterflies filled the air above.

他的双眼，曾经用湛蓝色描绘的双眼，如今已成了炉中余烬的暗红。

His eyes, once rendered in vivid blue, were now a smoldering red.

眼中的火光随着她的心跳一起跃动。

They pulsed in time with her heartbeat.

他将手伸向她，他细长的手指呈现出优雅的尖锐，长指甲如同光滑明亮的鹰爪。

He reached out to her, and his slender fingers were elegantly tapered, with long nails like glittering talons.

“那，以永生作为我们的传承如何？”弗拉基米尔说。

“So, shall immortality be our legacy?” asked Vladimir.

“如此，”她说。“甚好。”

“Yes,” she said. “It shall.”

玛乌拉接过他的手，他们一起走上最后一段台阶，进入了猩红色的帷幕。

Maura took his hand, and together they climbed the staircase into the veils of crimson.