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上一篇內容：遺言(一):帕拉蒙的曾經
正文內容:
我後來認識的那個人叫賈倫·沃德，他是我的第三任父親，同時可能也是我最親近的朋友；他從南方來的帕拉蒙。
我那時候就是個小孩子，但我永遠也無法忘記他慢步走進帕拉蒙時那空曠小路上的剪影。
我從來沒見過像他這樣的人，或許，我們都沒見過這樣的人。他說他只是從此地路過，然後我就相信他了 — 我到現在還對此事深信不疑，但是現實總會擋在你和理想之間，生活就是這樣。
我到現在還能近乎完美地描述那天的經過。但在所有的細節之中， — 每一個細微之處，每一個微小時分 — 留在我腦海中無法揮去的，是賈倫放在身後的那塊鐵製品。一把看起來古樸中不乏時髦的手炮。上面似乎有他參加過的每一場戰鬥的痕跡，那把槍低垂在他的腰間 — 像是一座獎盃，也像是一句警告。
這個男人曾經一定很危險，但似乎有光點圍繞在他的身邊 — 那是一種與他身軀相匹配的純潔 — 但那似乎也暗示這他的憤怒是自身所引發的，而不是隨意被某人給與的。
他走進帕拉蒙時，我是第一個發現他的人，但很快，幾乎所有帕拉蒙的人都走了出來迎接他。我的父親將我擋在他的身後，同時，所有人都像是木偶般的站在那裡，默不作聲。
賈倫藏在那光滑賽車頭盔下的身軀沒有發出一點聲響。他就靜靜的站在那裡，像是從某篇故事中所走出來的英雄一般。直到今天，我也不明白那橫在旅人與村民之間的寂靜無聲意味著什麼，或許是恐懼，亦或是尊重。我更傾向於後者，但是我在此時提出的任何結論，都只是我的主觀臆斷罷了。
就在我們等待我們的羅根長官回到帕拉蒙來為這個旅人展開正式歡迎的期間，我的耐心終究是落入了下風，我將父親那沉重的手從我的肩膀上甩開，然後小跑著穿過了廣場，在距離那個新奇事物僅有幾步距離的地方停了下來 — 那個與眾不同的男人。
我抬起頭看向他，他也將注意力轉移到了我的身上。他的雙眼被頭盔上厚實的偏光護目鏡所遮擋，很快我的注意力就落到了他腰側的那把武器之上。而當我的目光落在那把武器上的時刻，我的思緒便被那把手炮牢牢鎖住。我開始想象那把武器所遊歷過的所有地方，所經歷過的所有奇蹟，所獲得過的所有榮耀。在那一瞬間，我的思緒從一個個傳奇般的英雄故事之間不斷跳躍。
我太著迷了，甚至都沒有注意到他單膝跪地的動作，他將腰間之物拿出，像舉起貢品一樣將手炮舉到物品的面前，不過這些動作我都沒有意識到，我的視線始終鎖定在手炮之上，如痴如醉。
我記得我回頭望向父親，與每一個我所認識的人他們臉上的表情。他們都流露出擔憂的神色 — 我的父親緩緩地搖著頭，彷彿在懇求我不要理會這份禮物。
我將頭轉向那個後來我稱之為賈倫·沃德的男人，那個你所能打聽到的整個太陽系中最強大的獵人與曾經捍衛旅行者之光的最偉大的守護者之一地存在。
然後我拿起了那件武器。輕輕的。小心翼翼地。
我不是要去使用它，而是觀察。去想象。去感受它的重量與他存在的真實。
這便是我第一次舉起那把叫做“遺言”的武器，但很遺憾的是，這不是最後一次。
原文內容:
The man I would come to know as Jaren Ward, my third father and quite possibly my closest friend, came to Palamon from the south.
I was just a boy, but I'll never forget his silhouette on the empty trail as he made his slow walk into town.
I'd never seen anything like him. Maybe none of us had. He'd said he was only passing through, and I believed him - still do, but life can get in the way of intent, and often does.
I can picture that day with near perfect clarity. Of all the details though - every nuance, every moment - the memory that sticks in my mind is the iron on Jaren's hip. A cannon that looked both pristine and lived in. Like a relic of every battle he'd ever fought, hung low at his waist - a trophy and a warning.
This man was dangerous, but there was a light about him - a pureness to his weight - that seemed to hint that his ire was something earned, not carelessly given.
I'd been the first to see him as he approached, but soon most of Palamon had turned out to greet him. My father held me back as everyone stood in silence.
Jaren didn't make a sound behind his sleek racer's helmet. He looked just like the heroes in the stories, and to this day I'm not sure one way or the other if the silence between the town's people and the adventurer was born of fear or respect. I like to think the latter, but any truth I try to place on the moment would be of my own making.
As we waited for Magistrate Loken to arrive and make an official greeting, my patience got the best of me. I shook free of my father's heavy hand and made the short sprint across the court, stopping a few paces from where this new curiosity stood - a man unlike any other.
I stared up at him and he lowered his attention to me, his eyes hidden behind the thick tinted visor of his headgear. My sight quickly fell to his sidearm. I was transfixed by it. I imagined all the places that weapon had been. All of the wonders it had seen. The horrors it had endured. My imagination darted from one heroic act to the next.
I barely registered when he began to kneel, holding out the iron as if an offering. But my eyes locked onto the piece, mesmerized.
I recall turning back to my father and seeing the looks on the faces of everyone I knew. There was worry there - my father slowly shaking his head as if pleading with me to ignore the gift.
I turned back to the man I would come to know as Jaren Ward, the finest Hunter this system may ever know and one of the greatest Guardians to ever defend the Traveler's Light...
And I took the weapon in my hand. Carefully. Gently.
Not to use. But to observe. To imagine. To feel its weight and know its truth.
That was the first time I held "Last Word," but, unfortunately, not the last.
本文內容來源於《Destiny Grimoire Anthology》--Chapter 2《The Burden of Light》（由於黑盒編輯沒有斜體在此用中文書名符號標識）若想去閱讀原文請移步至相關網站購買，本文由小黑盒用戶Geneva獨立翻譯，轉載請註明，若有爭議請與我聯繫，感謝配合。