Original subtitles

It's quiet.

Almost like no one wants to go journeying.

I'll become a nomad.

I'm going to leave.

I don't know where I'll end up,

but it won't be here.

Bye Bye, Earth

Bye Bye, Earth

State the name of the one who enters our throne room.

Belle Lablac. That's my name.

What do you seek in our throne room?

To leave Park City and cross the borders the gods set between lands.

I want the key that will allow me to do so.

For what reason do you wish to depart the realm from our throne room?

I'll go on a journey.

A journey to find out who and what I am.

What title do you desire in our throne room?

I want to become a nomad.

That's the title I desire, and the one that suits me best!

Then, little one, play the key.

Reveal your soul's timbre.

Do so, and a spell to overcome divine barriers will be engraved within you.

What's this?

You look upon the keyboard vessel, the key to journeys.

Keyboard Vessel

This is the key?

The key recognizes those who would play it.

As for how you play...

Do as you will.

Easy for you to say.

What's this?

"Moonwork."

A spell from the age of gods. It means "to do as the moon."

Moonwork To do as the moon

"To do as the moon"?

A spiral of progression and regression.

To do as the moon is to regress while progressing,

as the turning of the seasons or the cycle of life and death.

That which reverts to its origin yet is different than it was.

It goes on changing.

"The moon"?

What even is that?

A mystery from the age of gods. None now can fathom it.

What's this feeling?

I should've had this answer when I was born.

My words...

I'm on the right path.

Going journeying and meeting Runding and coming to Park City

have all been indispensable steps toward knowing myself.

All is free.

This... is my timbre?

The key will resonate with you and play the old magic that enables travel.

But first, you must encounter chance

and understand that which has the form of heart and mind.

The form of heart and mind?

It is called...

"Now Here."

Now Here That which is

"Now Here"?

You will exile yourself from divine law

and take on a great curse, believing it will someday become a blessing.

You will bespell yourself to keep your own way, alone, wherever you may be.

Pierce the world!

I'll go out of tune and let out a howl.

When I do, a hole will open in the world—me!

I'll let my being truly blossom!

This is what my sword taught me.

But it won't work...

Not yet.

This instrument expresses freedom, but I can't feel it as freedom yet.

I feel lonely.

I feel so lonely I could go crazy.

Then you will forsake this trial?

I mean, just listen...

Talk about heavy.

Then do you accept permanent residence in this land?

No, I don't.

I'm gonna wait for my next chance.

But little one...

You who wreak howls...

Wreak howls?

Many will suffer unbearable worry when you journey forth.

The howl of being you release will make it so.

Are you saying I'm a bad influence on people?

You know not what you wreak.

Our god does not wish it.

Little one, should you find the key beyond you,

make a new home in Park City. Nay, in this very castle.

I'll think about it.

But I'm going on my journey.

My mind's made up.

This isn't the homeland where I belong.

Even if I can't play the key,

I'll fight against the divine walls,

and if I'm unlucky, I'll perish.

It's as simple as that.

Sword thief!

Hope you know what you've got coming!

Now give us back our swords!

All right.

Bamboo.

Look at that weird magic.

No wonder we couldn't find 'em anywhere.

We're not done yet.

Cough up all the swords you've got stashed away! Now!

And then?

I'll take over your position!

You couldn't handle it.

Oh yeah?!

I knew things would turn out this way!

I knew before I came to Park City!

I knew before I became a solist!

I-I'll be damned if I call the likes of you a solist,

you freak!

What is a solist? What is a sword?

Who are you? What are you?

What do you live for?

What do you die for?

What is death?!

Show me.

I knew things would turn out this way.

I can hone my skills all I want, but my swords still end up like this.

What should I do?

Should I be killed? Or go on living?

Should I cry for someone to end me?

I knew things would turn out this way...

I'm a partial corpse.

What do I want from this world that I was born cursed and cast out into?

I don't even know.

I had no choice but to doubt the world.

Until I met that girl.

She seems so utterly alive.

For the first time, I felt truly drawn to someone.

I felt like I could truly want something.

I felt like I could become truly alive.

Adonis!

Did you already pass the trial?

I couldn't do it.

I can't open the door yet.

Knowing you, you'll find a way soon enough.

I'm honestly relieved to hear you say that.

I'm feeling pretty stumped here.

You smell like blood.

All solists do.

But for some reason...

you smell nice, even when you reek of blood.

Doofus.

Did you see the key?

I can't help thinking it's a tool for exiling yourself.

It hurts so much.

Before I know it, everything around me goes dark,

and I can't even use my hands to feel my way.

You know, your dad said that

if you believe you can see in the dark and trust in that,

feeling where the current leads,

something will appear to guide you.

Thanks.

Adonis...

I'd like to try fighting back my own way.

I'll be waiting in your room.

Sire, the time has come for me to voice my doubt!

Doubt

What are the Ashes of the Tried?!

What do they test in those whose swords are broken?!

What are sacred ashes?!

Where do they come from?!

How are they connected to the Ashes of the Tried?!

What are swords?!

What does it mean to wield one?!

Why does our god ask us to take them up?!

If it's the Law of Theme, then what is the theme?!

What is a cancerous sword?!

Why do they drive their wielders mad?!

What is a Nidhogg, really?!

Why does our god want to make more of them?!

Why did Tiziano have to go mad?!

Kir too!

Why did you send me to spread the Ashes of the Tried?!

Sire, can you hear my questions?!

What is our god?! What is Deus Ex Machina?!

Doubting one...

Everything is part of the harmony our god arranges.

Your doubt departs not one step from the Law of Theme.

What?

Behold.

Can you see the fruits of your swordplay behind you?

There's no way...

The Ashes of the Tried are scattered

so that the divine tree may grow branches and support its roots.

Only after infecting solists as deathly ashes can they become sacred.

A cancerous sword is steel whose cells multiply without limit.

Through quietus, it dies a death and bestows eternal survival.

Due to your curse, you were born an outsider.

Thus, our god bestows a greater receptacle for your control.

Hence your role as examiner.

Examiner

Hence your role as Prince Fatal.

Prince Fatal

Me, the Prince Fatal?

That's not what I want at all!

Behold.

Our god has already woven that which you seek into the divine harmony.

What's this?

It doesn't rot?!

That can't be!

I decide what I want!

What kind of trick are you trying to play?!

You just beheld yourself, harmonized.

You just touched yourself, mechanized.

Under the divine tree, you shall become one of our god's records.

A record?

All your memories will be discarded and your being converted to a record.

Then you will give yourself to eternal survival,

and join our god at the divine tree's root as a blue priest of the chronicle.

Behold.

They offered themselves to our god at your hand.

Witness them modeled.

It can't be...

Stop...

Please stop.

Help...

Save me, Belle...

You cannot escape.

There is but one way out.

I don't have one...

I don't have a reason to go on a journey.

Doubting one, swear to become part of this land's foundation.

Your eternal peace awaits here in—

In the end, even you...

Nothing.

I don't have... anything.

Oh man.

I was so sure I could take any trial they threw at me head-on.

Don't tell me...

My eldest brother is dead.

Adonis.

The miasma of death ate away at him.

That's the price our family pays for guarding the Katakombe.

I couldn't do it.

No surprise there.

I see.

Belle...

Save me, Belle.

What do you mean?

Hey.

Why am I the only thing my hands won't wither?

My mother died when I was born.

My touch killed her from within.

So I've never known a mother's warmth.

I don't know what warmth is...

even though I'm so cold.

I'm a partial corpse.

I've only lived so I can fully die without ever being really alive.

Today, I learned where the dead go to their eternal rest.

It's the last place I ever want to be dragged off to.

But I've got no way left to fight it.

Isn't there anything I can do for you?

Can you cut me?

Of course I can't.

Belle, fight me.

What for?

The door to journeys isn't big enough for two.

That's not what I'm asking!

Don't force a shitty role on me!

Stop.

Do my hands scare you?

Not one bit.

Then...

We haven't fallen in love.

What?

We haven't fallen for each other yet.

Neither one of us.

I don't care.

I've never felt anything like that in my life.

I don't think I ever could.

But who—

A-Adonis!

Who else would ever see you as a woman?!

I'll kill you.

You're warm.

Nowhere...

Nowhere...

Nowhere...

Nowhere...

Nowhere...

Ninth Movement

Silence of Keys Unplayed

I want to swing my sword.

The first sword that's really mine!

The form of my curse forces me to.

The ever-withering force of death.

Tenth Movement

Spiral: Howling Sword, Rusty Nail