固定されたツイート
The Last Seven
Episode 1: The Cave
The year was 1452, though none of them knew the exact date anymore. The sickness had come like a shadow at dusk—first a fever that burned the skin, then black swellings that burst and wept, then blood from the nose, mouth, and eyes. Whole families were gone in three days. Priests dropped dead while giving last rites. By the time the seven survivors found one another on the desolate moors of northern England, the world they had known was already silent.Hugh had lost Eleanor, the girl he had hoped to marry. He had dug her grave with his own hands in the rain, whispering prayers he no longer believed. Edmund had watched his mother, father, and two brothers die one after another in the same bed. Roger had carried his youngest sister to the burning pyre after the rest of his family was gone. Baldwin had set fire to his own village to stop the spread before fleeing. The women’s losses were just as heavy. Gwendolyn had lost both her husband and their newborn son in the same terrible week. Blanche had buried her mother and two younger sisters. Adelina—slender, fair-haired, with eyes the colour of rain on slate—had lost her entire family: father, mother, and two brothers. She had been the last one left in her cottage when the others found her.They met near the ruins of an old abbey, drawn by the sound of voices in a world that had gone quiet. When they discovered the wide limestone cave in the hillside, cool and deep and safe from the wind, they took it as a gift from whatever God still watched over them. They carried in what little they had—sacks of grain, a side of salted pork already turning, cloaks, knives, and one precious tinderbox—and made it their home. In the first days, survival left little room for anything but work and fear. Baldwin and Roger, the two strongest, went out each morning to hunt rabbits or search empty villages for anything useful. Hugh and Edmund tended the fire near the entrance, fighting damp wood that smoked thick and black. The women gathered roots, mushrooms, and the few green things that still grew near the cave mouth. It was during these early, frightened days that the pairings began—not by declaration, but by the quiet ways people reached for one another when the darkness felt too close.Gwendolyn was the first to break. One night, after a hard rain, she woke screaming from a nightmare of her dead baby. The sound echoed through the cave like a wounded animal. Roger, who had been sleeping nearest the entrance on watch, was at her side in an instant. He did not speak. He simply wrapped his heavy cloak around her shaking shoulders and held her while she sobbed against his chest. “I keep seeing him,” she whispered when the tears slowed. “His little face…”Roger, who had lost three sisters, understood grief that cut to the bone. He stayed with her until she fell asleep again, his broad hand stroking her hair. The next night she sought him out on her own, curling against his back for warmth. By the third night, when the others had settled, she turned in his arms and kissed him—desperate, grateful, alive. It was not love at first. It was the need to feel another heart beating when everything else had stopped. Over the following weeks the closeness deepened. Roger began saving the best pieces of meat for her without being asked. Gwendolyn mended his torn tunic by firelight, her fingers careful. When they made love for the first time, it was in the deepest shadows, quiet and urgent, two people trying to prove to themselves that life could still continue.Blanche and Baldwin found each other through steady, practical partnership. Blanche was clever with her hands; she could turn animal fat and rags into torches that burned longer and brighter than anyone else’s. Baldwin, broad-shouldered and quiet, noticed how she worked even when her own hands were blistered.
English
