Countless heroic tales say this:
No matter where you stand, if you look up at the vast night sky, you will see constellations. And those constellations are traces of heroes who raced across this land and represent their lives.
That was a story half right and half wrong.
In reality, heroes who achieve great deeds engrave their stars in the night sky and become transcendents called constellations. In that sense, the part about "constellations being the lives of heroes" was correct.
Then which part was wrong?
It was the part that said, "No matter where you stand, if you look up, you'll see constellations." I raised my head and looked at the sky. More precisely, I looked at the ceiling of the city that I had regarded as the sky my entire life.
What reflected in my eyes was not a vast stretch of night sky, and certainly not brilliantly shining constellations.
Thick smoke. Numerous minerals precariously embedded in the ceiling. Only the artificial light created by the minerals reflected in my eyes. This city had neither sky nor constellations.
'Well, of course.'
A sneer escaped from the corner of my mouth.
As if something like stars could be seen in this city.
... Underground city, Atman.
A place even the sun, which equally illuminates all things in the world, refused to shine upon. Thus, a place submerged in darkness day and night, all four seasons of the year. A city that depends on artificial light through minerals because the sun never rises.
People from the upper town called this place:
The landfill.
A place where discarded trash is buried.
***
The underground city, Atman.
Those who live in this city are generally divided into two types, with the criteria being as follows:
Either they were banished from the upper town to this place.
Or they were children born from parents who were both banished.
Among them, I belonged to the latter.
It meant I was destined to live in this city for my entire life despite not committing any particular crime. Of course, this was just my opinion, and the people from the upper town seemed to think differently.
Children bred from trash are, naturally, trash themselves. They committed a sin by being born and making this world dirty.
That was the average mindset of the upper town and the general attitude toward this city. According to their logic, I was a criminal from birth, so I should rot in this city for my entire life.
[...How pitiful.]
[The poor child has become unfortunate.]
Many people sympathized with me. However, I wasn't particularly pleased with their sympathy. After all, I never knew what the outside world looked like.
The warm sun they speak of.
The vast green fields.
The blue sea stretching beyond the horizon.
I had never seen any of them, and couldn't even imagine what they looked like. It's difficult to yearn for things you can't even picture in your mind. So honestly, I wasn't very interested in the outside world.
Just, one thing.
If there was something I was interested in...
"Stars."
I muttered absent-mindedly.
"Stars, constellations, heroes."
I reached out and grabbed a fairy tale book.
It was a fairy tale book I had acquired by chance when I was very young. A book titled [The Chronicles of Arthur]. I opened the tattered book that I had read countless times.
[The Chronicles of Arthur] is a heroic tale.
A heroic tale about the life of a hero who was active hundreds of years ago. In the story, Arthur pulled out a sword embedded in a rock that no one else could extract, and then crossed the continent with just that one sword in hand.
As a knight. And as a hero.
After saving many people and cutting down many demons, Arthur became a constellation at the end of his journey. The thirteen great deeds that Arthur accomplished became stars engraved in the night sky.
"Constellation."
I opened the last page of the fairy tale book.
It was the page I had opened the most. It was a page with an illustration of Arthur's constellation. I silently gazed at the constellation that filled the entire page.
Thirteen stars.
A sword-shaped constellation formed by connecting the stars.
As I gazed at the constellation, a short passage written beside the illustration came into view.
[No matter where you stand on this land.]
[If you look up at the sky, you will see stars.]
I raised my head and looked at the sky.
Naturally, there was no way I could see anything like stars.
"I can't see them, damn it."
A sigh escaped from the corner of my mouth. Yes, I wasn't interested in anything else from the outside world, but... I just wanted to see those constellations with my own eyes.
I don't know why.
I just wanted to see what stars looked like.
It was simple curiosity and a delusion. Since it was an unattainable dream, it was nothing more than a delusion.
"Life."
Looking up at the sky, I suddenly thought.
Come to think of it, there was also a saying like that. Don't insult the stars while looking up at the sky. Stars can hear your voice as long as you are looking at them, no matter where you are.
'Stars can't even be seen, let alone hear insults.'
Picturing Arthur's constellation in my mind, I raised my middle finger toward the sky. Along with the middle finger, I let out a light curse. A provocative insult that Arthur, if he could hear it, might not be able to ignore—that he was just a man who was born in the right era.
1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds... like that, 1 minute.
Naturally, no divine punishment fell. Well, that's how it is. I sighed and got up from my seat. I had a lot to do today.
"Sigh."
I had hoped for some divine punishment. It seemed better than living this boring life.
***
Shortly after the boy left.
Above the underground city of Atman, above the massive city built on top of it, in the vast night sky, a certain constellation twinkled. It wasn't Arthur's constellation that the boy had seen in the fairy tale book.
Not the sword constellation made of thirteen stars.
But a constellation like a calm lake that guarded its side.
A calm lake holding stars so that its king could close his eyes in peaceful sleep. That constellation, which had always been calm, suddenly scattered a brilliant light. It was almost like the anger of a star.
Constellation, the Staff of Selection.
The constellation that accompanied Arthur from the beginning to the end of his journey.
The Lake's Magician, Merlin.
Merlin's lake-shaped constellation rippled violently. Her true form, seated deep within the constellation, stared down at the ground with wide eyes. The voice of an impudent boy echoed in Merlin's ears.
Arthur was just a man born in the right era.
If he were born in this era, he would have been nothing.
Are you upset? Do you want to refute?
Then come and bring divine punishment.
It was an incredibly insulting remark where she didn't even know where to begin correcting it. Merlin felt the back of her neck grow hot after a long time.
"Wow."
Merlin let out a hollow laugh as she brushed up her hair. Her bluish-white hair rippled through her slender fingers.
"What kind of lunatic is this?"
Blood vessels popped in Merlin's eyes.