Miyuki Miyabe - ICO - Castle in the Mist

For the first time, he realized that the water was a living thing. It spoke with many voices. Ico listened to them and understood that none spoke of danger. There were deep voices and high trilling voices, loud voices and soft ones, all telling him that this path was true. Walk on and you will reach your destination, the water seemed to say to him.

He walked until he could not remember how long he had been walking. Water dripped down from the roof above him, splashing off the top of his head. He looked ahead and realized that there was a light coming from higher up, a place where the rock bulged out from the walls and ceiling like the fists of two stone giants.

He put his hands to his waist and caught his breath while he looked around in surprise. He realized that he had been climbing up a rather steep slope to get here, clambering over folding layers of rock, jutting boulders, jagged walls, and narrow passages.

No wonder I’m out of breath.

Ahead, the rocky slope continued upward for some distance, leading up to the place where the giants’ fists met and a narrow sliver of light shone through. He thought the gap might even be wide enough for him to pass through.

At the top of the slope, he wedged his way through the gap between the rocks and heard the sound of a greater body of water echoing beyond. This new noise was almost like rain, and it came with a deeper tone that seemed to come up from the ground. He crawled on his elbows across the gravelly floor, coming out into a wider space where he could raise his head again-and caught a blast of water directly in his face.

I’m behind a waterfall. The watery veil spread out in front of him. Water splashed up in a fine mist, wetting his arms and legs.

Thankfully, it was brighter here. Ico peeked around the edge of the waterfall to get a better look, like a child peering around his mother’s skirts, and he realized that the opening he had reached was looking out over the sea. He was midway up a cliff that curved forward on either side, like a horseshoe with him roughly at its center. From here there was no apparent way to climb farther up, and when he looked down, the sea seemed impossibly far below. Several waterfalls coursed gracefully down the inside of the horseshoe cliff, and the sound of the rushing water was enough to make his ears go numb.

He also noticed something else-two thick pipes crossing from the cliffs to his right over to the cliffs on his left. They seemed to be made of copper, darkened by the spray of the water, with green rust clinging to the seams where lengths of pipe were joined together.

Several chains-he counted eight in total-hung down from the pipes, each with something like a giant ring suspended from its end. Ico looked closer and saw that they resembled giant spinning wheels, easily as wide across as a man was tall. While he looked in amazement, he could feel his heart racing. The sword was calling to him. Come, come. This way.

As though pulled by a thread, Ico’s eyes looked in the direction of the soundless voice. It was coming from above the cliff to his left. Trees grew thickly along the top, and he thought he saw something among them sparkling, catching the sunlight.

Great, now I know where to go-but how do I get there?

Fear rose in Ico’s chest. What if all this running around, all of this fear, all of the sadness has made me lose my mind? What if the sword calling to me is just an illusion? What if madness brought me to this cliff?

He saw another light shine in the trees atop the cliff, a sparkle like a star guiding a lost hunter.

He wondered again how he would get there, when the answer rose in his mind: he would have to jump down to the wheels hanging from the bottom of the pipe, going from wheel to wheel until he reached the one furthest to the left. Then he would climb up the chain, and if he could get back on top of the pipe, he would be able to reach the forest at the cliff top.

Each of the chains hanging from the pipe was a slightly different length. Unfortunately, the one closest to him was also the longest, which meant he would have to fall a great distance before he reached the wheel suspended at its bottom.

He considered just jumping down into the water, when he remembered the warnings he had often received as a child not to swim near the base of the waterfalls that fell near Toksa Village. The water there swirled in such a way that if you went too far down, it would trap you there and never let you back to the surface.

He would have to make a jump for it, and if he missed the wheel at the bottom of the chain, he would just have to brave the waterfalls.

Come, the sword beckoned.

This is another test, Ico thought. If I don’t pass this one, it just means I wasn’t worthy of the sword.

Come to me.

The sword’s voice had a sweet ring to it that reminded Ico of his mother-or maybe it was just that he chose to ascribe a familiar sound to those clear, beckoning vibrations that seemed to beat against his very soul.

Then the adventuresome child inside him perked up. Grabbing the Mark firmly in one hand, he leapt. Wheeling his hands through the air, he worked his legs as though he might gallop on the wind, trying to keep his balance.

With a surprisingly light sound, Ico landed directly on top of the wheel. His legs swayed beneath him and he quickly grabbed hold of the chain. When he looked around, he saw rainbows in the air all around him, so close it seemed he might be able to grab them with his hands.

Drenched to the skin, Ico grinned, letting his eyes follow the rainbows through the air. They winked in and out of existence, their sparkling light looking like applause for his courageous jump off the cliff.

He looked up at the blue sky, rimmed by the curve of the top of the cliffs. The sky seemed less blue than it had before he jumped from the old bridge, and it was veiled by a thin white mist. Evening was approaching.

I have to hurry. He looked across at the other wheels hanging from the chains, plotting his course, and it seemed like the rainbows twisted to guide him, showing him the way.

“Here goes!” he shouted and jumped out into the air. Ico’s arms and legs moved smoothly, no trace of the fear that had sent shivers up his spine moments before. The more he moved, the less he feared. He made the last jump easily and began climbing up the chain toward the pipe, a smile spreading across his face.

He walked along the top of the pipe, nearing the forest, when he stopped and turned to look behind him, wondering what the strange wheels had been placed there for. Why were they hanging from the pipe? What was their purpose?

Looking down at them from this new angle he realized suddenly that they looked like cages. That’s what they are, round cages.

People were kept here, hanging high above the waves-

He trembled with the horror of the thought.

But those cages had led him here. Maybe the rainbows were the traces of the souls of the people who had died in those cages, come back to lead his way. All of them wanted release from the Castle in the Mist.

“I have to hurry,” he said aloud, quickening his pace, leaving the thundering sound of the waterfalls, the dancing rainbows, and the eight silent cages behind.

Ico made his way through the thick foliage, over a rocky crag, and along the stone face of the wall. He found he could hear the voice of the sword best when his mind was cleared of thoughts.

He headed down along the cliff, descending until he figured he was about halfway back down the slope he had climbed inside in the darkness. The path here was narrow, and he had to cling to the cliff to avoid slipping and falling into the ceaselessly pounding waves far below him.