彗 Hwei

异画师 the Visionary

台词

“止水作墨，狂潮作纸。万物落于笔端。”

“Calm and chaos—leave everything on the canvas.”

传记

彗是一个郁郁寡欢的画家，在艾欧尼亚四处创作惊世佳作，只为惩戒恶人，宽慰弱者。在他的忧郁之下，藏着一颗斑驳、敏感的心，想象中的绚烂色彩与回忆中寺庙灾难的凄惨尸骸始终萦绕在他脑海。彗寻求对心中光与暗的彻悟，而这份追寻也将不可避免地把他推向那位带来启蒙的艺术家。以画笔和色盘，彗画出无尽的可能。在求索的路上，他不断接近最终的解脱，或是冰冷的绝望。

Hwei is a brooding painter who creates brilliant art in order to confront Ionia’s criminals and comfort their victims. Beneath his melancholy roils a torn, emotional mind—haunted by both the vibrant visions of his imagination and the gruesome memories of his temple’s massacre. Hwei seeks to understand this light and dark, which drives him inevitably toward the artist who unraveled him. With paintbrush and palette, Hwei shapes endless possibilities as he draws ever closer to earning closure or embracing despair.

艾欧尼亚的西北角，勾崖岛曾经在此独秀一隅。这里有金光灿灿的海滩，一季一度的集市，古色古香的磨坊小镇，还有坐落美景其间的勾崖寺——也是一所自古传承至今的艺术学府。

In northwest Ionia, the island of Koyehn once stood beautiful and serene. Among its golden sands, seasonal bazaar, and quaint mill town sat the Temple of Koyehn, an ancient and renowned conservatory for the arts.

麓开·彗生来就是为了继承这座寺院。

温和懂事的彗，从童年时就开始将所有的遐想倾注在画布上。成长中的所见所闻，无不被他夸张成了超现实的奇景。虽然他知道这些景象与现实相左，但透过这些幻景，他得以将生命本身看作艺术。彗与这个世界的色彩之间存在极其深刻的共鸣，就连他眼瞳的颜色都会随他的心态与情绪而变化。

Lukai Hwei was born to inherit this temple.

彗将自己纷繁的想象注入画作，产生出一种神奇的力量，能够左右观者的情绪。也正因如此，使用这种魔法需要严格的自控与自律，否则就将葬送自身精神和身体上的一切感知。操纵绘画魔法的人，如果无法——或是不愿控制自己，就是对自己和整个魔法师群体的威胁，因此这样的人就会被逐出勾崖。

即便存在这些戒律，却不妨碍年少的彗纵情于自己的想象中。在一次面对上师们的演练大会上，他选择以勾崖的海景为题进行创作。颜料在画布上流淌，然而他的掌控却逐渐衰落。情绪如狂潮般卷过他，如深海般深邃未知，令他不得不放纵自己陶醉在美感中。他眼前泛起黑暗，最后的记忆是上师们惊恐的神情，溺水的情景。

Kind and precocious, Hwei spent his childhood putting to canvas his wild daydreams, which exaggerated the world around him into surreal, fantastical sights. He knew these visions differed from reality, but through them, he saw life itself as art. So connected was Hwei to the shades of the world that even his eye color shifted in hue to reflect his mind and mood.

彗醒来时已经是几天以后，几位上师围在他身边——他们还活着，只是怒不可遏。他们无法驱逐勾崖寺的继承者，但是他们提醒彗不要忘记自己身上的责任。彗非常惶恐，但同时也如痴如醉——那股深不可测的力量，让他忍不住想要再探究竟。

Hwei expressed this vibrant imagination through paint magic, a medium that influenced the emotions of its audience. As such, it required strict control and discipline, lest it overpower both mental perceptions and bodily sensations. Among its current practitioners, those unable or unwilling to control their art endangered themselves and the community—and were banished from Koyehn.

于是，白天时分，他恪守勾崖的规范守则。但每当夜里，独自一人时，他就会试探边界，探寻自己力量的极限。不多久，彗的修炼已经能凝聚想象的力量，塑造出一面色盘，盛放着不断流淌的魔力颜料。

成年后，彗已将画艺炼得炉火纯青。他怀着热忱与谦逊，准备继承自己命中注定的位置，接受同伴们的簇拥与爱戴。但他的心底总有一块，始终包裹在重重夜幕之下，无人得见。

Despite these precepts, young Hwei indulged his imagination. In a demonstration for the temple masters, he recreated Koyehn’s sea. As paint flowed around the canvas, however, his control ebbed. Emotion crashed through him, wild and fathomless as an ocean, and he surrendered himself to its beauty. His vision turned black, his last memory the awestruck masters, drowning.

直到勾崖寺迎来了一位客人——卡达·烬。

在那个镀金蒙辉的夏日，彗陪同烬走遍了勾崖岛。他们经常交换创意见解，虽然彼此也有分歧，但彗十分认可烬的艺术理念，非常看重这段共处的时光。

Hwei awoke days later, surrounded by his masters—alive, but infuriated. They would not exile the temple’s heir, but they stressed his responsibilities. Hwei was horrified—but fascinated—by the depths of his power, and he craved to see more.

然而就在烬离开的前夜，他向彗发出挑战。烬可以感受到，彗其实在以刻意营造的假象示人，而他想要看一场真正的表演。彗试图否认，但他的双眼背叛了他。这么多年来被平庸之作麻痹的画笔与想象，正在渴求一次发泄。

于是彗开始作画。多年的勤学苦练让他运笔如神。黑夜成了活物，他用脑海中的无限光彩为其上色。情绪的潮水再次将他淹没，温和自然，随心荡漾。彗沉浸其中。与他人分享这些禁忌的幻景让彗感到无比振奋，也彻底点亮了他画作里蕴藏的力量——带来纽带、启迪，以及挣脱一切束缚的自由。

Thus, by day, he upheld Koyehn’s conventions. But alone at night, he pushed the boundaries, driven to explore the extent of his power. In time, this practice focused the intensity of Hwei’s imagination, allowing him to manifest a palette that flowed with magical paint.

烬将一切尽收眼底。之后，他目光炯熠、口齿模糊，草草与彗道别，说他明天要去“品赏清莲”。

拂晓时分，彗和同僚们醒来，看到的是一连串的惨状。

Well into adulthood, Hwei mastered his craft. And with passion and humility, he prepared to inherit his birthright, surrounded by the respect and affection of his peers. But part of his mind remained forever shrouded at nightfall.

其一，四幅上古画作遭到损毁。

其二，四具尸体，被摆成了某种图案——他们正是彗年轻时险些害死的四位上师。

And so it remained, until the temple received a visiting artist: Khada Jhin.

其三：勾崖寺一至四层突发大火。

在火焰的缝隙之间，彗似乎看到空气里闪烁着五彩的电光。他体内活着的一切都像鲜血一样从汩汩流出。

Over a gilded summer, Hwei accompanied Jhin, guiding him around Koyehn. They often exchanged their creative perspectives, and, respecting their differences, Hwei recognized Jhin’s virtuosity and valued their time together.

何其惊悚。何其美妙。难以言喻的……艺术。彗意识到了真正的黑暗——毁灭、败坏与折磨的力量。年轻时曾有过的那股惶恐和痴醉，又回来了。

寺庙迅速化为一片火海，而彗是唯一的幸存者。

But the night before Jhin’s departure, the man challenged Hwei. Jhin sensed that the pieces Hwei showed others were forced façades—and he wanted to see a real performance. Hwei tried to deny it, but his eyes betrayed him. Flooded by the years spent creating meaningless art, his imagination begged catharsis.

他在疲惫和自责中默哀。然而他的想象依然在沸腾，反复涌现出这场灾难的每个瞬间。

白天，彗和磨坊小镇上的居民举行葬礼。夜晚，他回到灰烬的废墟中作画。他的色盘变成了勾崖徽章的形状——正如他心口佩戴的徽章。

So Hwei painted. Decades of practice guided his brush. The night came alive, colored by the brilliant infinity of his mind. Emotions washed over him, harmonious and visceral, and Hwei welcomed them. Sharing these forbidden visions for another exhilarated him and illuminated the powers of his art: connection, inspiration, and unfettered creation.

某晚，彗像平时一样去废墟中作画，忽然在碎石下发现了一块陷阱的碎片——形状仿佛一瓣莲花。

他意识到了这场灾难的罪魁祸首，一连串强烈的情绪吞没了彗。恐惧。悲伤。背叛……惊叹。。

Jhin witnessed all. Afterward, with eyes alight and tone inscrutable, he said farewell, stating he would be moving on tomorrow “to watch the lotuses bloom.”

一个疑问在灼烧他的心——为什么？

但他想要答案吗？还是说压抑住好奇，才能苟活？他可以留在这个地方，作为寺庙的继承人，协助重建……或者也可以……

At dawn, Hwei and his fellow artists awoke to a series of tragedies.

彗离开了他的岛，离开了他的同胞，只带上了自己的画笔和色盘。

后来彗意识到，要想探寻问题的答案，就要把自己的技艺彻底展示在世人面前。他走遍艾欧尼亚最阴暗的角落，追踪恶名昭彰的人物，逼迫他们见证充满折磨与苦难的画作，从而理解他自己内心的痛苦。但同时他也找到艾欧尼亚各地的受害者——那些死亡艺术的见证者，为他们带去宁静与内省。

First: four historic paintings, destroyed.

他既是浴火重生的卓绝画家，也是失去美好家园的慈悲之人。彗的眼中倒映出艾欧尼亚的矛盾色彩，和他自己超凡的想象。在他历经曲折坠入黑影深处时，也照亮了一条路，一路上散落着他对未成之作的期许。

只是，他心中的哪一面能走到最后，尚未能可知。

Second: an arrangement of four bodies—the masters that Hwei had almost killed in his youth.

Third: the fiery eruption of the temple’s four lowest floors.

Amid the flames, Hwei imagined the air electric with color. Everything that lived within him bled outward.

It was terrifying. It was beautiful. It was... art. Realizing its dark potential—of destruction, devastation, and torment—Hwei felt the same horror and fascination he had in his youth.

The temple quickly collapsed into ruins, with Hwei emerging as its only survivor.

Exhausted and guilt-ridden, he mourned. Yet his imagination overflowed, reliving every moment of the disaster.

During the day, Hwei and the villagers from the mill town held burials. At night, he revisited the ashen-gray wreckage and painted, his palette taking the shape of Koyehn’s crest—the same worn over his heart.

On one such night, Hwei found the remnants of a trap beneath the rubble—one petaled like a lotus flower.

Realizing who’d wreaked this havoc, a cascade of emotions engulfed Hwei. Fear. Sorrow. Betrayal... Awe.

A question burned within him: why?

But did he want the answer? Or would it be safer to suppress this need? He could stay here with his people—as the heir—help them rebuild... or...

Bearing little more than his paintbrush and palette, Hwei left his island, and his people, behind.

In the time since, Hwei has learned that the answers he seeks arise through revealing the full extent of his art to others. He tracks down nefarious individuals in Ionia’s darkest corners, unleashing scenes of suffering upon them to understand his own well of pain. Yet he also reaches out to Ionia’s victims—fellow witnesses—to create shared tranquility and reflection.

Both the relentless artist rising from the ashes and the kindhearted man from a once-peaceful isle, Hwei faces the conflicting hues of Ionia—and his own imagination. As he spirals deeper into the shadows, he lights a path, mind brimming with possibility.

Which shade of himself will triumph, however, is yet to be seen.