[Niflheim Dungeon] Ikanbam

"Everyone, bolt your doors! Tonight, the whale will appear!"

This is a cursed island. Whenever a full moon rises high in the night sky, a whale that emits a shriek of death appears in the waters off the island. Anyone who hears the whale's shriek suffers terrible headaches for three days before ultimately taking their own life.

The islanders still do not know exactly what kind of headache those who hear the shriek experience. Some say it feels like ghosts screaming endlessly inside their heads; others describe it as being hammered without pause. Every person's account varies wildly. But on the night of the third day, every last one gives up, unable to endure the pain any longer. The islanders tried to abandon the island, but leaving the land they had lived on their entire lives was not so easy. Besides, all they had to do was hide inside thick-walled houses and plug their ears when the full moon was at its highest — hardly difficult. Those who had died were either visitors unaware of the whale who happened to be outside at night, or brave souls who went to investigate the whale and never returned.

The islanders were curious at first.

'What is that whale, and is there no way to end this terrible curse?'

But they soon gave up asking. Every courageous person who ventured out to learn about the whale ended up a corpse by their own hand. Years had passed since the whale first came to this island, and the island and whale had somehow managed a precarious coexistence.

A scorching summer, weather so sweltering the air itself felt like an oven. Even in this season, the full moon and the whale arrived right on schedule. With the moon about to hang brilliantly in the sky, a young woman was frantically searching the beach.

"Baby! Heine! Where are you! Come home right now!"

It was a day when the youngest mother and daughter on the island had an unusually fierce quarrel. The child had been impossibly stubborn, and the mother had no choice but to scold her harshly. The girl had stormed out of the house around noon with her lips jutting out in a pout. Contrary to the mother's expectation that she'd return quickly, Heine didn't come home even as the sun set and the moon climbed higher. Unable to waste any more time waiting, the mother ran along the beach searching for her daughter, even though the whale was about to appear. Neighbors who heard her rushed to the beach and dragged her back.

"No! My daughter is still...! I don't know where Heine is! Please, please let me go......"

"At least you need to survive! Heine must be hiding somewhere safe. She's a clever girl, isn't she!"

"Right, you take shelter first!"

"No! Heine!!"

The night passed, and the next morning — Heine was found inside a cave on the beach, clutching her hair as if about to tear it out, muttering to herself. She looked no different from anyone who had previously heard the whale's shriek. Tragically, the child had forgotten that it was the night the whale would appear. Playing in the cave catching crabs as she always did, she had been struck. The child was now fated to die within three days.

Seeing her child like that, the mother collapsed and wept on the spot. Her cries echoed across the island, more mournful than the whale's shriek, piercing through the thick walls of houses and reaching everyone. A mother's heart was being torn apart, facing her child who would soon die. All she could do was hold the child tight so she would hurt a little less, fear a little less — and let her know that Mommy was right there beside her.

"It's okay, Heine. Mommy is right here. Hmm? It hurts a lot, doesn't it? Mommy is sorry, Mommy is......"

She cursed herself two days ago. She should have found Heine no matter what. At the very least, she should have been there to cover her daughter's ears so her child wouldn't suffer. What will you do, Heine, having been born to such a worthless mother? I'm so sorry, truly......

Despite the mother's guilt and grief, Heine, true to form, stopped breathing on her own the night of the third day. From the day she heard the whale's shriek until this night, the child had done nothing but cry in agony — but now her expression was nothing but peaceful. As if nothing had ever happened, Heine lay there looking like she was simply asleep. The mother felt like it was all a dream. It seemed as though she might spring up any moment, grab her hand, and smile. Was Heine truly gone from this world?

Days passed like that. The mother couldn't let Heine go and was still holding her hand. The island's weather was hot, and the body was decomposing quickly. Knowing this, the villagers urged the mother to hold a funeral while the body was still intact. The mother, drowning in unspeakable grief, let the body go when told it was for the child's sake.

The small island lacked enough land to bury the dead, so cremation was the norm. Cradling the child's ashes, the mother scattered them before the night sea that Heine had loved so dearly. The white powder caught the moonlight on the sea and sparkled. It looked exactly like the child's sparkling eyes in life.

'Mommy!'

'Look over here! This seashell is so pretty.'

'I can hear the ocean inside the conch, Mommy!'

Ah, Heine. I can hear your voice, bright as a skylark.

Is the sea you're passing through still beautiful?

Mommy is sorry. This cursed island — I should have taken your hand and left long ago.

She stood there, etching unspoken words onto the stars one by one. Following the stars with her gaze, she saw the full moon hanging high in the night sky.

That moon that took my daughter, and the whale that would soon appear. Yes — that thing in the distance is what took my daughter.

The whale she had only heard about was pitch-black and larger than the island's hill. They said it was a curse-bearing whale, and indeed it looked unlike any ordinary whale.

The mother screamed at the whale.

"WHY!!! Why on earth did you come to this island! Go away!! No — come here and take me too! Without Heine, I can't...... I can't go on......"

She doesn't clearly remember whether the whale shrieked or not. She had been hurling bitter words at the whale with all her might for so long that before she knew it, the sun had risen far in the distance. Seeing the crimson light spreading across the horizon, the mother suddenly realized. She had seen the whale — but she hadn't heard any shriek. Moreover, her head didn't hurt at all.

What happened?

"Oh dear, are you alright! What were you thinking, going to the beach on the night the whale appears! Your head — is your head okay?"

"Oh, ma'am......"

"Yes!"

"My head doesn't hurt...... Why? Heine died from this. Why am I fine?"

"......Your head doesn't hurt?"

Seeing the mother in perfect health, the villagers gathered in small groups to discuss. And they found one difference between her and those who had suffered headaches. She had been screaming all night long. Far louder than the whale's shriek, filled with grief and fury.

On the next whale night, the villagers decided to test their hypothesis. If they were right, no one on the island would suffer again. The island's craftsmen built an enormously loud instrument and placed it in the hands of the mother, who had volunteered to test it herself. On the night of the full moon, the mother gripped the drumstick and headed to the sea. In the distance, the cursed whale was approaching.

"Yes, from now on...... no more children like Heine must suffer."

As the whale approached the island's waters, the mother struck the instrument. Though still young, the anguish of a mother who had held her child only to lose her poured through the instrument. Hair unbound, with the full moon and ocean as her backdrop, she played without stopping, as if possessed. When dawn finally broke and the sun rose, the whale had vanished from the sea, and the mother was still in her right mind. No — since the day she lost her daughter, she had never truly been in her right mind, but at least the whale hadn't given her a headache.

"We found the answer! We just need to make a sound louder than that whale's shriek!"

"Hahaha! This is wonderful news! Throw a feast at once! As long as we play that instrument at night, the whale can never torment us again!"

Having found a way to overcome the whale, the villagers were overjoyed. Perhaps they should have mourned, knowing the discovery was born from a child's death. But too many had already died. To the villagers, Heine's death was simply one among the many who had perished — nothing more.

On the next full moon, and the one after that, the mother went to the beach and played the instrument. Whether it was to defeat the whale or to mourn the child who had gone before her, no one could say for certain.

And so, the island found peace and is said to have lived happily ever after.