Part 8: "Back to Me"

Nautika: I'm still here ... I haven't vanished.
In the darkness, she tries to confirm her own existence. She is weak and faint, but thought after thought still forms in her mind.
Nautika: Hah, and at least you aren't completely alone anymore.
Reindeer: ...
Nautika: As long as you keep moving, you'll meet new people along the way. Like ...
Nautika: Like Vertin, Sonetto, and Ms. Radio.
The chains on her soul loosen, and fragments of scattered memories arise. At last, their names return to her.
Nautika: I hope they're safe now. I hope we meet again.
Nautika: I have to keep going ...
Reindeer: ...
"Keep going." A thing easier said than done. The black sludge creeps back over her mind.
She's still being digested.
Nautika: panting
Nautika: It isn't over yet ...
This might be the hardest part of her trek, with no clear direction and the last of her strength bleeding away.
The darkness swallows her wave after wave, dampening the thoughts flickering at the edge of being.
Yet, despite the terror of the moment, she doesn't pray.
Nautika: Áddjá ...
She wraps herself around that stone, the "miracle," heavier now than whatever is left of her.

Nautika: Áddjá, white bones ...
Rolf: Look what you've found, ráhkis.
Four weathered bone fragments lie amid the wild tundra grass.
Rolf: Here's a vertebra, a rib, a small piece of leg bone ...
Nautika: Áddjá, what was it?
The lean scholar and his young grandchild stand together in a vast and silent expanse. He wipes his glasses with his sleeve, then moves closer to examine the bones.
Rolf: Most of them have weathered away ... It's hard to say, but judging by their size, it could be a reindeer.
Nautika: W-Why didn't the Mother Spirit protect it?
He smiles at her naive question.
Rolf: chuckle ... She doesn't work that way, ráhkis.
Rolf: This is the cycle of life. See?
Around the bones, where the flesh has rotted away, daisies now bloom. The wind has carried away the rest, scattering it across distant lands and seas.
Rolf: Nautika, this is the world's smallest miracle ... and its greatest.
Nautika: I know! It's from Tales of the Mother Spirit, the part that says ...
Nautika: In death we freed our tired, tattered flesh; And return life's power to nature's mesh. The rain and wind, our heralds, call us home; To Mother's arms—we rest, no more to roam.
Nautika: When I return to Her arms, I want to ask Her something.
Rolf: About what?
Nautika: I want to know how Her miracle works. How She keeps life turning in the endless cycle.
Rolf: That curiosity of yours is admirable.
Rolf: And what will you do once you know this information?
The child pauses. Her innocence has left her unprepared for such a question.
But then, a pure desire spills forth.
Nautika: Then ... I'll learn Her secret and understand another part of Her.
Nautika: In this reindeer's next life, I'll protect it.
She stares at the reindeer's bones and, in the boundlessness of her imagination, makes a small wish.
Rolf: Hahaha.
Rolf: Very well, Nautika.
Rolf: May the Mother Spirit guide you until your soul returns to Her embrace.
Nautika: Áddjá ...
Reindeer: ...
A long time passes before she realizes that she's no longer in a memory. Her grandfather's phantom hangs just out of reach.
She staggers toward him, still holding on to hope.
Nautika: Áddjá ... you knew, didn't you? You'd already seen the answer back then.
Rolf: ...
Nautika: That's why you didn't want me to face this final ...
Nautika: But that's the answer.
Nautika: No matter what, that's the answer.
Nautika: Even so, I will pursue the unknown no matter where it takes me.
Nautika: I know you understand, Áddjá.
Nautika: Because no one knows me like you do.
The phantom doesn't stir. Until, after what feels like an eternity, a smile of relief crests his lips.
He embraces her and whispers a single word.
Nautika: ...
And the phantom is gone.
Nautika: ... Let's go.
Reindeer: ...
Nautika: Will you stay with me till the end?
Nautika: ... Dagny?
She moves toward the exit, while true memories drift back to her like snow settling in her open palms.
Reindeer: ...
Nautika: Dagny ... Dagny.
Nautika: Aase and Áddjá said that you wouldn't last long. But I refused to believe it. I thought if I gave you a name, we could keep you.
Nautika: I carved a tag for you, whispered your name with every stroke—but by the time I tried to fasten it ... you were already gone.
Nautika: Then the very next day, Áddjá and I buried you beneath the sapling. Then I carved your name again.
Dagny remains still.
Nautika: Yes, Dagny, my little reindeer. I never ate you, and we never won any race.
Nautika: You followed the cycle—stayed with us for those last moments of your life, then left forever.
Nautika: Even so, there were so many nights when I thought of you, so many days when your name came to me.
Nautika: Oh, how I've missed you.
Nautika: You were my first adventure. My missing piece, the forest fossil I never found.
Nautika: The beginning of everything.
Reindeer: ...
She speaks the truth of this long-departed friend, finding that her words have sound once more.
The calf lingers, gazing into the distance. This is the final revelation.
Then, she bows her head and dissolves into the darkness.
Nautika: Goodbye ... Dagny.
She turns to the last path.
There, a pool blacker than darkness itself waits at the edge of the void.
Nautika: ...
This time, she doesn't hesitate. She wades in, slow and resolute.
She reaches the edge of the darkness and peers into the unfathomable water.
Nautika: I crossed coastlines and glaciers, escaped a maze, climbed snowy mountains ...
Nautika: I went beyond an illusion, refused a passage to the light, and walked free from false memories.
Nautika: I came here ... for an answer. That's all.
Nautika: The one true answer.
She shivers. Her voice chokes.
Nautika: The path we chose because of our longing, the destination we thought would fulfill our lives—
Nautika: What's at the end of this road?
She touches the darkness, waiting for its response.
Only silence. Only darkness.
Nothingness.
Nautika: ...
Nautika: Aah ...
Nautika: Ah ... ah ...
When reality confirms her premonition, all that remains is pure sorrow.
So that's the answer ...
Tears stream.
Drop by drop, rippling in the pitch-black pool.
Nautika: Áddjá ...
Nautika: What we sought ...
Nautika: Then ... I'll learn Her secret and understand another part of Her.
Nautika: In this reindeer's next life, I'll protect it.
Nautika: When I learn this secret ... when I know the answer ...
Nautika: I'll understand a part of Her.
Images appear in the dark water.
Nautika: And now that I have ...
Nautika: Now I've reached the edge of nothingness; now I've seen that the answer is emptiness itself ...
Nautika: I became a part of it.
The reflection in the water is clearer now. She wipes the tears from her eyes.
Nautika: This isn't the end. Not anymore.
Nautika: Not my end.
Nautika: Not my final answer.
Nautika: I have to keep going—to find a new answer, a new meaning ... for who I am now and for who I'll one day be.
The reflection extends a wordless invitation to her.
Even as she wipes her last tears away, fresh ones fall.
Nautika: I'll keep moving forward ...
Nautika: Even so, I will pursue the unknown no matter where it takes me.
Nautika: Friele, Aase ...
Nautika: You don't need to wander anymore. I'll be here.
Tearfully, she smiles—just like the reflection in the water.
Nautika: Come back to me ...
Nautika: Come back into my arms.
She's determined.
Her consciousness breaks free from the eroding waves of darkness, flickering with a renewed, if faint, glow.
A light that comes from within.
Then, toward her reflection, she leaps into the depths of the pool.