厄舍府的倒塌 Episode 12 祖先的日記｜揭開厄舍家族最初的黑暗契約 | The Fall of the House of Usher Episode 12: The Ancestor’s Journal
黑色湖泊逐漸恢復平靜，但真正的答案仍未完整浮現。一冊沉睡於湖畔廢墟中的古老日記，將帶領主角回到厄舍家族最初的年代，親眼見證一切悲劇開始的源頭。
The lake has fallen silent, yet one final witness remains. Hidden beneath the ruins lies an ancient journal written by the first Usher patriarch, revealing the forgotten origins of the family and the choice that condemned every generation to darkness.
中文
當黑色湖泊再次恢復寂靜，我以為一切終於結束。然而就在黎明前最黑暗的時刻，一道微弱的光芒自湖邊的碎石堆中閃爍。我走近一看，那是一只早已腐朽的木箱，半埋在泥土與瓦礫之間。木箱表面刻著早已模糊的厄舍家族徽章，銅鎖早已鏽蝕脫落，彷彿它一直等待有人將它重新打開。我輕輕掀開箱蓋，裡面沒有珠寶，也沒有黃金，只靜靜躺著一本厚重的羊皮日記。封面沒有標題，只有一句早已褪色的古老文字：「願後來者不要重複我的選擇。」我翻開第一頁，泛黃的紙張散發出潮濕與墨水混合的氣味，字跡蒼勁而工整，記錄者正是第一代厄舍家族主人。他描述自己原本只是偏遠山谷中的一位學者，一生追求知識與永恆，希望留下無人能超越的家族榮耀。多年遊歷後，他在群山深處發現一片從未出現在任何地圖上的湖泊。那裡沒有鳥鳴，也沒有風吹樹葉的聲音，整座湖泊平靜得像一面鏡子。他原以為只是普通湖水，直到某天夜裡，湖面竟映照出不屬於現實的景象。他看見自己的未來，看見家族繁榮，也看見自己死後數百年的子孫。湖水不是預言，而是誘惑。它總會先讓人看見最渴望得到的一切，再慢慢索取代價。日記記載，他每天都會來到湖邊，湖面映出的畫面越來越真實，甚至開始與他交談。一個沒有形體的聲音向他承諾，只要願意將家族永遠與這片土地連結，他的名字將永遠存在，不會被歷史遺忘。於是，他開始建造厄舍府，宅邸的位置正是黑色湖泊與地下神殿之間。每一塊石頭都依照湖水倒影排列，每一道牆壁都刻意封住地下深處的入口。他以為自己是在建造一座不朽的家園，直到第一位孩子誕生。嬰兒出生的那一夜，湖水第一次變黑，原本清澈透明的湖泊逐漸染上墨色，而孩子的眼睛竟映照出湖底無數陌生面孔。祖先終於明白，契約已經開始運作。日記中的文字也逐漸凌亂，他不斷尋找解除契約的方法，試圖燒毀宅邸、填平湖泊、封死地下神殿，但每一次努力都在隔天恢復原狀，彷彿整片土地本身已經成為契約的一部分。他寫道：「真正被詛咒的不是家族，而是我的貪婪。」隨著最後幾頁展開，墨跡已經模糊不清，只剩下顫抖的筆跡記錄著最後一句話：「如果有一天有人讀到這本日記，請不要相信湖中的倒影，因為它映照的從來不是希望，而是你的欲望。」就在我閱讀完最後一行文字時，一陣微風吹過湖面，那本保存數百年的日記竟開始自行燃燒。火焰沒有吞噬紙張，而是將每一頁化作無數發光的灰燼，緩緩飄向仍在崩塌的厄舍府廢墟。遠方的黑色湖泊重新恢復鏡子般的平靜，而我知道，真正的真相終於完整浮現。厄舍家族並非生來受到詛咒，而是一位祖先為了永恆榮耀所作出的選擇，讓數百年的子孫共同背負了無法逃離的命運。
English Version
Morning had not yet arrived when a faint glimmer caught my attention along the shattered shoreline of the black lake. Beneath broken stones and soaked earth rested an ancient wooden chest, almost completely consumed by time. Its rusted lock crumbled with the slightest touch, revealing not treasure but a weathered journal wrapped carefully in faded leather. No title adorned the cover. Instead, a single sentence remained barely visible across the cracked surface: May no one repeat the decision I once made. The pages belonged to the earliest known ancestor of the Usher family. His careful handwriting painted the portrait of a man who had never intended to create a dynasty of horror. He had been a scholar obsessed with preserving knowledge beyond the limits of ordinary human life. During his travels through forgotten mountains, he discovered a hidden lake absent from every chart and legend. The water possessed an impossible stillness, reflecting not only the surrounding landscape but visions of futures yet to unfold. At first the mysterious reflections seemed like blessings. They showed prosperity, magnificent halls, brilliant descendants, and a family whose name would survive the passing centuries. Yet each vision lingered longer than the last, gradually becoming conversations rather than silent images. Something living beneath the surface began answering his questions before he even spoke them aloud. The unseen presence promised that greatness could become eternal if he accepted a simple exchange. His bloodline would remain forever connected to the land, and in return his family would never vanish from history. Believing he had discovered immortality, the scholar agreed. Construction of the House of Usher began exactly where the hidden lake aligned with the underground cavern below. Every wall, every corridor, and every foundation stone followed patterns revealed by the reflections upon the water. Only after his first child entered the world did he realize the agreement had already claimed its price. On the night of the child’s birth, the crystal-clear lake darkened into perfect blackness. The infant stared silently toward the water, its eyes reflecting countless unfamiliar faces that no living person could possibly recognize. Panic replaced ambition. The journal chronicled desperate attempts to undo the covenant. The founder ordered portions of the mansion destroyed, commanded workers to bury the lake beneath earth and stone, and sealed every entrance leading underground. Yet each morning the damage had vanished. Walls rebuilt themselves. The shoreline returned unchanged. Hidden passages reopened without human hands. The land itself refused to release what had already become part of its existence. As the entries grew increasingly frantic, one confession appeared again and again in trembling ink. The curse had never been born from hatred or revenge. It had grown from a single man’s unwillingness to accept mortality. His descendants inherited not punishment, but the consequences of his impossible desire to be remembered forever. The final page contained only a brief warning addressed to anyone who might one day uncover the journal. Never trust the reflections waiting within the black lake, because they never reveal hope. They reveal only the deepest longing hidden inside every human heart. As I finished reading, a gentle breeze crossed the silent shore. Without heat or smoke, the ancient journal began dissolving into glowing fragments of ash. Instead of burning away, the pages transformed into thousands of tiny lights drifting toward the distant ruins of the fallen mansion. The lake became perfectly still once more, its mirror-like surface concealing every secret beneath its darkness. Watching the final embers disappear into the dawn, I finally understood that the tragedy of the House of Usher had not begun with monsters or ghosts. It had begun with a single human choice—the belief that eternity could ever exist without demanding an unbearable price.
