Read Online The Neverending Story by Michael Ende - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Ende
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and yet he never sank in above his knees. By some mysterious means, the Childlike Empress’s amulet led him the right way.
Then suddenly he saw a high, steep mountain ahead of him. Pulling himself up from crag to crag, he climbed to the rounded top. At first he didn’t notice what this mountain was made of. But from the top he overlooked the whole mountain, and then he saw that it consisted of great slabs of tortoise shell, with moss growing in the crevices between them.
He had found Tortoise Shell Mountain.
But the discovery gave him no pleasure. Now that his faithful little horse was gone, it left him almost indifferent. Still, he would have to find out who this Morla the Aged One was, and where she actually lived.
While he was mulling it over, he felt a slight tremor shaking the mountain. Then he heard a hideous wheezing and lip-smacking, and a voice that seemed to issue from the innermost bowels of the earth: “Sakes alive, old woman, somebody’s crawling around on us.”
In hurrying to the end of the ridge, where the sounds had come from, Atreyu had slipped on a bed of moss. Since there was nothing for him to hold on to, he slid faster and faster and finally fell off the mountain. Luckily he landed on a tree, which caught him in its branches.
Looking back at the mountain, he saw an enormous cave. Water was splashing and gushing inside, and something was moving. Slowly the something came out. It looked like a boulder as big as a house. When it came into full sight, Atreyu saw that it was a head attached to a long wrinkled neck, the head of a turtle. Its eyes were black and as big as ponds. The mouth was dripping with muck and water weeds. This whole Tortoise Shell Mountain—it suddenly dawned on Atreyu—was one enormous beast, a giant swamp turtle; Morla the Aged One.
The wheezing, gurgling voice spoke again: “What are you doing here, son?”
Atreyu reached for the amulet on his chest and held it in such a way that the great eyes couldn’t help seeing it.
“Do you recognize this, Morla?”
She took a while to answer: “Sakes alive! AURYN. We haven’t seen that in a long time, have we, old woman? The emblem of the Childlike Empress—not in a long time.”
“The Childlike Empress is sick,” said Atreyu. “Did you know that?”
“It’s all the same to us. Isn’t it, old woman?” Morla replied. She seemed to be talking to herself, perhaps because she had had no one else to talk to for heaven knows how long.
“If we don’t save her, she’ll die,” Atreyu cried out. “The Nothing is spreading everywhere. I’ve seen it myself.”
Morla stared at him out of her great empty eyes.
“We don’t mind, do we, old woman?”
“But then we shall all die!” Atreyu screamed. “Every last one of us!”
“Sakes alive!” said Morla. “But what do we care? Nothing matters to us anymore. It’s all the same to us.”
“But you’ll be destroyed too, Morla!” cried Atreyu angrily. “Or do you expect, because you’re so old, to outlive Fantastica?”
“Sakes alive!” Morla gurgled. “We’re old, son, much too old. Lived long enough. Seen too much. When you know as much as we do, nothing matters. Things just repeat. Day and night, summer and winter. The world is empty and aimless. Everything circles around. Whatever starts up must pass away, whatever is born must die. It all cancels out, good and bad, beautiful and ugly. Everything’s empty. Nothing is real. Nothing matters.”
Atreyu didn’t know what to answer. The Aged One’s dark, empty, pond-sized eyes paralyzed his thoughts. After a while, he heard her speak again:
“You’re young, son. If you were as old as we are, you’d know there’s nothing but sadness. Why shouldn’t we die, you and I, the Childlike Empress, the whole lot of us? Anyway, it’s all flim-flam, meaningless games. Nothing matters. Leave us in peace, son.
Go away.”
Atreyu tensed his will to fight off the paralysis that flowed from her eyes.
“If you
Then suddenly he saw a high, steep mountain ahead of him. Pulling himself up from crag to crag, he climbed to the rounded top. At first he didn’t notice what this mountain was made of. But from the top he overlooked the whole mountain, and then he saw that it consisted of great slabs of tortoise shell, with moss growing in the crevices between them.
He had found Tortoise Shell Mountain.
But the discovery gave him no pleasure. Now that his faithful little horse was gone, it left him almost indifferent. Still, he would have to find out who this Morla the Aged One was, and where she actually lived.
While he was mulling it over, he felt a slight tremor shaking the mountain. Then he heard a hideous wheezing and lip-smacking, and a voice that seemed to issue from the innermost bowels of the earth: “Sakes alive, old woman, somebody’s crawling around on us.”
In hurrying to the end of the ridge, where the sounds had come from, Atreyu had slipped on a bed of moss. Since there was nothing for him to hold on to, he slid faster and faster and finally fell off the mountain. Luckily he landed on a tree, which caught him in its branches.
Looking back at the mountain, he saw an enormous cave. Water was splashing and gushing inside, and something was moving. Slowly the something came out. It looked like a boulder as big as a house. When it came into full sight, Atreyu saw that it was a head attached to a long wrinkled neck, the head of a turtle. Its eyes were black and as big as ponds. The mouth was dripping with muck and water weeds. This whole Tortoise Shell Mountain—it suddenly dawned on Atreyu—was one enormous beast, a giant swamp turtle; Morla the Aged One.
The wheezing, gurgling voice spoke again: “What are you doing here, son?”
Atreyu reached for the amulet on his chest and held it in such a way that the great eyes couldn’t help seeing it.
“Do you recognize this, Morla?”
She took a while to answer: “Sakes alive! AURYN. We haven’t seen that in a long time, have we, old woman? The emblem of the Childlike Empress—not in a long time.”
“The Childlike Empress is sick,” said Atreyu. “Did you know that?”
“It’s all the same to us. Isn’t it, old woman?” Morla replied. She seemed to be talking to herself, perhaps because she had had no one else to talk to for heaven knows how long.
“If we don’t save her, she’ll die,” Atreyu cried out. “The Nothing is spreading everywhere. I’ve seen it myself.”
Morla stared at him out of her great empty eyes.
“We don’t mind, do we, old woman?”
“But then we shall all die!” Atreyu screamed. “Every last one of us!”
“Sakes alive!” said Morla. “But what do we care? Nothing matters to us anymore. It’s all the same to us.”
“But you’ll be destroyed too, Morla!” cried Atreyu angrily. “Or do you expect, because you’re so old, to outlive Fantastica?”
“Sakes alive!” Morla gurgled. “We’re old, son, much too old. Lived long enough. Seen too much. When you know as much as we do, nothing matters. Things just repeat. Day and night, summer and winter. The world is empty and aimless. Everything circles around. Whatever starts up must pass away, whatever is born must die. It all cancels out, good and bad, beautiful and ugly. Everything’s empty. Nothing is real. Nothing matters.”
Atreyu didn’t know what to answer. The Aged One’s dark, empty, pond-sized eyes paralyzed his thoughts. After a while, he heard her speak again:
“You’re young, son. If you were as old as we are, you’d know there’s nothing but sadness. Why shouldn’t we die, you and I, the Childlike Empress, the whole lot of us? Anyway, it’s all flim-flam, meaningless games. Nothing matters. Leave us in peace, son.
Go away.”
Atreyu tensed his will to fight off the paralysis that flowed from her eyes.
“If you
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