WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Wind and a Cluster of Stars

Chapter 1

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Prologue

Sailing ships, adventure, gunpowder-

And the wind and the stars.

A story about a captain, still inexperienced, searching for a new world and new stars.

And now, our story of looking into a past that has disappeared.

[A Preview of Wind and a Cluster of Stars]

1.

At first, the sound of water was faint, but as I got closer, it grew louder.

Upstream, along a stream with no real path, there was a small waterfall.

Like water poured from a ladle, the little fall ran over moss that had grown for ages, giving everything a soft green glow.

Sunlight slipped through the leaves in mottled patches and shimmered over the pond beneath the falls.

The wet moss soaked up water and spread thickly through the damp air around the waterfall.

Plants with tiny, round, unfamiliar leaves also crowded there, each less than a centimeter tall, packed so tightly there was not even room for a needle.

Then a small bird appeared on a mossy rock.

It paused to check its surroundings, apparently not noticing me hidden quietly behind a tree.

That little bird, glossy like metal, suddenly dove into the water.

Inside the clear stream, it walked along the bottom, searching for food between stones and sunken branches.

A few moments later it came back out. It seemed perfectly waterproof, droplets rolling off as it hopped onto a rock.

It was clearly skilled, because its beak already held water insects.

After checking around once more, the bird walked straight into the falling water.

Soon it stepped back out through the curtain of the waterfall and looked around again in the spray.

Its feathers were astonishingly water-resistant.

It flew up to the rock as if to catch its breath, then dove back into the water.

When I stood up from my crouch behind the tree, I saw it walking underwater again.

Strangely, a silvery bubble-like layer had formed around its body.

It looked as if it were wrapped in a silver cloak.

I watched for a while as it bobbed and gathered insects.

After a little while, another one appeared, and I saw it carrying food into a hidden nest.

Those mother birds were truly diligent. They were excellent at catching insects, always returning with their beaks full of flying bugs and aquatic insects.

I watched their behavior for a couple of hours.

2.

After leaving the dense oak forest, I came into a simpler woodland where the trees were more sparse.

To catch my breath, I sat on a rock under a nearby tree and took bread and cheese out of my leather bag.

I set the bag on my knees like a table, unwrapped the paper, and tasted what I had packed.

The cheese was rich and incredibly soft, and every time I exhaled through my nose, I caught that savory aroma mixed with the common country spices I had put in it.

Where else could I taste something like this?

I was not a big eater, but this was the kind of thing I could eat anytime.

After finishing the bread and cheese and taking a drink of water, I noticed something on a nearby tree that felt slightly out of place.

It did not move at all and made no sound, so at first I could not tell what was different.

Then it slowly closed what I had thought was part of the bark, and its identity was revealed.

It was a nightjar, a bird common even in Britain.

This clever, bold little thing had fooled me with its color and shape.

With its neck stretched long and eyes tightly shut, it looked no different from a branch.

Still, it was not truly motionless.

"Ha ha..."

Funny enough, it was watching me through wrinkled eyelids.

Its eyes were closed, but in a way it was still peeking through a slit.

It probably thought I had not noticed. Whenever I looked away for a second, it would slightly open its whiskered beak or quietly lift its lids to check on me.

Then, as soon as I came closer again, it sealed its beak, stretched its neck, and shut its eyes once more.

It seemed convinced it had not been caught, and that made it even more amusing.

The nightjar clearly wanted me to leave quickly, but I did not waste the chance. I stayed on the rock and began sketching it.

I had not planned to, but the bird, casually pretending to be a branch, became an excellent model in that exact pose.

3.

The low sun first cast ash-gray shadows across the city, then, as if bored, quickly erased them and restored Lisbon's natural glow.

White buildings and roofs capped with orange clay tiles were everywhere, so the whole place shone with bright, gentle light.

By the time we came in from the harbor and passed through the narrow, steep alleys climbing uphill, even where direct sunlight could not reach, everything was still full of pale brightness.

Across a narrow strip of deep blue sky between the walls, white doves crossed overhead.

Morning sunlight peeked over the rooftops and tossed dust-like flecks of light below.

When the brilliant sun turned hazy yellow and brushed the clay tiles, those grains of light bounced off white plaster walls and scattered down to the ground.

Somewhere, petals drifted along a small channel toward the sea, and petals in the air still seemed undecided, whether to go to the mountains or to the sea.

When the wind ran through the alleys, they rolled uphill or floated high and became tiny dots against the blue sky.

When the wind calmed, they drifted down softly, seeing so much along the way.

Pots of geraniums hung on walls, vines drooped in damp strands, and ivy climbed endlessly upward.

As in all old cities, the more houses there were, the narrower the streets became, and the taller the alley walls rose.

But Lisbon was never lonely, never dark.

Past one alley, bright fruit filled a small square. Past that square, people drank coffee at tables set out along the street.

Flowers from balconies rode the wind and gathered at travelers' feet with the scent of coffee.

To let them savor that fragrance a little longer, the wind played with a small leaf at a corner and waited a moment.

Escaping that breeze, petals collected beside flowerpots, at street corners, and on the belly of a drowsy tabby cat.

Red rose petals and pink geranium petals gathered in little handfuls, as if discussing where to go next.

Then yellow petals began to appear among them, and before long entire alleys were filled only with yellow flowers.

Bright yellow petals traveled with the wind, then settled neatly along the edges of the lane.

On both sides of the road we walked, yellow flowers lay as if someone had swept only the middle clean.

"Look over there."

Petals were flying above Lisbon's narrow, tall cityscape.

Wind that came from the sea and climbed the alleys up the hill-

And wind from the mountains, flying over the rooftops.

That wind carried yellow petals taken from a tall tree.

In the narrow blue sky above us, countless petals fluttered.

A whole wave of them rushed through at once, and some fluttered lightly down into the alley.

As we passed one house, we saw its yard blanketed with thick, soft petals.

In the middle of that bright yellow snow stood one large tree.

"It is a golden chain tree."

Its flowers looked like acacia or wisteria blossoms, hanging in clusters like a waterfall.

So many blooms hung there that the branches looked ready to snap, and yellow snow kept falling, endlessly, endlessly.

Yellow petals lay thick over soft grass, waiting for travelers from the cold sea.

I knelt before it and brushed my hand across them. The flowers covering the dense lawn slid aside and traced a dark green picture.

Little by little, that picture blurred and turned yellow again.

Like a broad wave erasing footprints on the shore, my tracks circling that tree slowly vanished under the falling petals.

-Shrra

Amy grabbed the tree and shook it once, and the round tree, swollen with too many blossoms, burst in one puff.

Centered on the trunk, petals whooshed out in all directions, then poured down like sudden rain.

"Ha ha ha!"

As a waterfall of yellow petals came down in heaps, I spread my arms and took it all with my whole body.

Petals so light I could barely feel them brushed past my hair and hands like a shower.

As I moved slowly with the slowly falling petals, time also flowed slowly, building a brilliant golden illusion around everything.

Slow flower rain drifting as it turned, Amy crossing the yellow sea beyond that rough curtain, Zenon shaking his hair and becoming a gust of wind.

Beyond the curtain, where people silently looked up at the yellow sky, focus blurred, and fuzzy lights gathered around the petals like floating dandelion seeds.

How beautiful this world was.

Even without magic, even without any special power, it was beautiful as it was.

A place where all imagination took root.

A world even richer for those rich in feeling and imagination.

4.

"Damn..."

I woke to the vibration of the ship.

"The ceiling compass..."

I saw the dimmed white ceiling lamp tilted to one side.

Yesterday Zenon had said the pressure kept dropping in a way he did not like, and it looked like trouble had finally broken out.

-Whoom...

The sound of Golden Age slamming into waves echoed through the whole ship.

I squinted up at the ceiling, but nothing looked dark at all.

As the ship listed sharply, I dropped back down onto the bed.

When it tilted the other way, I sprang up with the rebound, opened the valve, and turned the light up.

March 23, 4:45 a.m.

The ceiling compass had shifted from southeast to east.

That meant the ship had been heading south, then turned east, rounding Cape Point at the southern tip of Africa.

The problem was that the Cape of Good Hope used to be called the Cape of Storms.

When wind blows into a house, if you leave the door barely cracked, the draft rushes in harder through that gap. Maybe the sea flow from eastern Africa gathered here the same way.

Ah, damn it... the West Wind Drift...

Just as the name says, it was a current where only the ocean surface flowed because of winds blowing from the west.

If the whole sea moved as one, deep water moved too. But if current was formed by wind, naturally only the surface moved.

That meant this was a section where the winds were especially strong.

No wonder they once called it the Cape of Storms...

It was not severe yet, but I was too worried to sleep.

If it had been truly critical, Zenon would have woken me first.

Still, outside, waves were climbing higher with rain mixed in, so I pulled on waterproof gear and stepped out.

-Fwooooo...!

When I opened the captain's cabin door and stood in the quarterdeck corridor, rain hammered above and beyond the corridor door.

Now and then it hissed in sweeping bursts, so I could tell the rain was being driven sideways by the wind.

After a deep breath, I forced open the wind-blocked door and went out.

"Ugh...!"

Wind blasted from every direction, and rain lashed down without pattern.

Every light on the ship was turned up to maximum, and in each beam the rain struck at a slant, making every line of light shift at once.

All nearby ships were also advancing through the rain with every lantern lit.

In the pitch-dark sea I strained my eyes for the lighthouse, and raindrops hitting my eyes broke the light into warped blobs.

"Cape Point!"

The lighthouse at Cape Point appeared as a tiny pinprick, faint and barely visible.

"That is way too close! Do you not know this whole area is reef fields!"

"The flagship got pushed toward land, and the ships of the line slowed down. That is how this happened!"

"Port side! Port side!"

Suddenly a frigate with all lights blazing swung inside the 200-meter safety distance, and I lurched for the wheel in shock.

"Go wake the off-watch crew! The waves are too high!"

At the hatch, Zenon had already finished preparing and crawled out through the waves.

Amy also waited for a wave to pass the splash guard around the hatch before climbing out.

Waves kept pounding from all sides, washing the deck again and again.

-Boom!

Even now a wave hit the hull, shot straight up, and came down as rain from every direction.

All I could do was hold on and follow through.

I thought this level was still manageable for now, but for nearly an hour there was no real response.

"This is driving me insane! The wind is a tailwind, turning is hard!"

"We still have to do something! Wait, signal flags are up!"

From the ship ahead, signal flags rose in a sequence of numbers.

"What? I cannot see! Fifty-six, two-three-seven..."

"We are turning back to Cape Town! Topmen! Topmen!"

In the end, the flagship decided to turn back as the waves kept getting rougher.

Zenon ran while signaling with his hand, his figure blurring in the rain like mist.

Now the topmen started climbing to furl sail as the wind intensified.

The sails were making sharp sounds as if they were about to rip apart, and if the wind hit harder in this state, the masts could easily break.

Wind slashed from all directions, white spray exploded on deck first here then there like spinning gusts, complete chaos.

Sailors climbed the mast, the ship heeled sideways, they clung tight and endured the shaking, then climbed again.

"Hold on tight!"

At both ends of the yard they had only one rope line, and barefoot they stood on it to secure the sails.

When another wave struck, they gripped the yard and endured at a dangerously steep angle.

-Kraack!

Another wave shot up and soaked them completely again.

I could barely see in front of me. I could only tell that lights were surrounding us in the dark.

Ships ahead seemed unable to endure any longer. I saw them turning by lantern light.

"They are turning, aaah!"

But that same frigate from earlier cut back into our safety distance and closed in to nearly fifty meters in an instant.

Staggering toward the rail, I swung my fist and shouted.

"Get away!"

They were yelling too, but I could not hear a word over the storm.

"Uh, uh, uhh-!"

Suddenly a wave shattered against the frigate's side, the officers at its wheel lost control and were thrown off.

"Wah!"

The frigate's bow spun, smashed through a wave, and in that instant I sensed it was about to ram Golden Age.

"Hold the wheel tight! The wheel-!"

I saw Zenon and Amy hanging on the wheel and hauling it hard to port.

Then I saw the frigate, huge and terrifyingly close, rushing toward us with its hull still heeled over.

I threw myself onto the deck, got dragged by rainwater and waves, grabbed the mast, and lay flat.

-Rrrrumble-

-Screeeeech...!

"Aaaahhh!"

"We are hitting! We are hitting!"

With its mast tilted, the frigate crashed over Golden Age at a twisted angle.

Lanterns slammed into each other and burst with popping blasts, shards and burning oil falling around us.

-Bang!

Our ship and the frigate collided, and both vessels were swallowed for an instant by pale spray.

At that moment, our wheel snapped around and tore the frigate loose, and the frigate quickly righted itself.

But-

"Aaaahhh!"

The masts that had already overlapped sprang apart, ripping again, cutting away the remaining lanterns and rigging lines, and debris rained down.

As the ship leaned and waves rushed in shallow and fast, burning oil on deck did not go out at once, even in water, before it got swept through the drains.

"Captain! It is chaos below! Go check it, now!"

"What about the hull!"

"It was a glancing hit! The mast damage is not major, hurry!"

I crawled over, opened the grating floor covered with tarp, and looked down through the opening. Below was a flood as well.

"Wave incoming from the bow!"

"Helmsman! Hold this!"

-Skreee... skreee...!

I shut my eyes tight and flattened myself on deck.

I wedged one arm into the grate opening and gripped that arm with my left hand.

Then the bow began dropping as if sinking into the earth, and seawater started pouring over my head.

Everything around me seemed to rise in reverse while roaring downward like a waterfall. I felt the angle climbing, but I was too scared to look forward.

At last the ship started riding the wave and crushing pressure pinned my body down.

I could only groan, plastered flat, and even then, when I looked toward the bow, I saw wave water nearly a handspan thick clinging to the deck and sweeping past.

Even as that lid of water covered me and passed over, the pressure of the wave still lifting the ship had not ended, and it sent a shiver through me.

When I looked to the side, frigates were dropping behind waves, then bursting back up from the water like hatchlings breaking out of eggs.

The heavier warships were being swept by waves outright, repeatedly buried almost whole.

The pressure vanished, and for one very brief moment, quiet-

Then the ship plunged, and my body started to float.

"Ugh...!"

I barely endured as my legs lifted into the air-

-Kwahoooo...!

White waves surged up on both sides of Golden Age, blocking the lights.

The ship crushed down on the weakened wave with its own weight, and from that rebound seawater blasted upward.

-Gurururuk-

For a moment I was trapped under seawater, then sound rushed back and my ears rang.

But from inside the grate where I had jammed my arm, the crew's screams below were growing louder.

Under the lit deck, something flashed across the lower level at tremendous speed.

I staggered up, opened the hatch cover, and stepped in, but someone grabbed the back of my neck and yanked me back up to the hatch.

Before I could process what was happening, a cannon shot past like an arrow and smashed into the hatch, spraying huge splinters before stopping.

"This is bad... this..."

Of all things, it was a demi-cannon, the biggest gun.

"Grab that cannon!"

The collision with the frigate had torn out the iron ring bolt in the hull that had been securing it.

This was truly the worst situation that could happen on a ship!

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