All language subtitles for The.Spine.of.Night.2021.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-EVO

Provided by explosiveskull
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Oh, daughter of man.

The Bloom is the last light
of the gods.

Would you die to take it?

I've not come in violence,
Guardian.

Like those before,
you came here seeking.

Turn from this place.
Take flight.

The Bloom weakens, Guardian.
You must see that.

No one has braved the mountain
for an eon,

and now you come
offering me knowledge.

Go before I cut you down.

The Bloom has spread?

How?

In dreams and in flames,

I have seen a single spore
of your Bloom

carried on the winds
down from this mountain,

through the tall trees

to at last take root

in another
of man's hidden places.

I have come from that place
to find you

to put an end
to your long vigil.

But there are things,
so many things,

that man cannot know,

must not see,
our dreams are.

The night you came here
has fallen into myth.

Scholars have called it
The Night of a Thousand Suns.

But I dreamed
The Bloom's dream,

and it led me here.

The journey was long...

painful.

I regret only...

that it has taken me
so very long to find you.

Time has had little meaning
on this mountain,

but your arrival
on the same dawn

that The Bloom withered
cannot be mere coincidence.

What has changed
in the world below?

My home was the
Great Swamp of Bastal.

Though the men who came
called it the All Sorrow.

It stretched
from horizon to horizon,

and I, Tzod,

was both its servant

and its queen.

This fame is the Bastal
among us.

It is the mouth of the swamp.

It is the eye of the swamp.

Stare!

Stare into our mother!

And she will stare back!

Invaders!

Destroy the wretches!

Spare the witch.

Evil.

Bind her.

Bring her with us.

You took me from Mothers Swamp
to serve this place?

No!

I took you from Mother Swamp
to die in this place.

Welcome to civilization,

where the fearful
and ignorant toil.

and the foolish delight

in delusions of power.

And the...

...the only...

scent on the wind is human shit.

Why? Why bring me here?!

We all have masters to serve.

Halt, outsider.

What brings you to
the mighty city of Pyr?

The Lord Pyrantin,
son of Uxon,

has requested the presence
of a scholar

from the Pantheon Ashurban

to witness and record
the rise of your path...

Mighty city.

I am that scholar.

I'm called Ghal-Sur.

Announce me.

Go on, then.

Announce yourself.

Worm's cock.

The last wagon is lost.

Who knows
when the next will come.

I heard
they slaughtered them all.

I hope it's true.

Lord Pyrantin.
Ghal-Sur at your service.

Tell me, Ghal-Sur,

how close is my city
to your hallowed border?

Why, it's no more
than a day's ride.

Precisely!

And yet...

it has taken a full season

to send even a single scholar

to mark my historic

achievements.

Why?

Apologies, Lord.

Your father's empire
expands quickly and the...

Ha!

Forget what my father has done.

He's half a world away
from here.

This city will be the very tip
of the Empire's spear

into this savage land,

and you are all too blind
to see it.

I can only apologize so much.

Stifle your apologies.

Despite your...

sloth...

you have managed to arrive
on a momentous day,

for we have finally
brought an end

to the wretched mud folk
who have plagued our progress

since we broke ground.

Sit.

Sit, Scholar!

Take note of how a true ruler
manages an empire.

Bring her in!

As you commanded,

we brought you the swamp witch
to kneel before you, Pyrantin.

Lord Pyrantin, Mongrel.
Lord.

You wouldn't be lord of anything
without...

Don't resist.

It'll only make it worse.

So tell me, Witch...

...what makes you so special
that your savages

have named you queen of a bog

as wretched as the All Sorrow.

The name of the Great Swamp
is Bastal!

She brings no sorrow
to those who love her.

"Love her."

I'm going to spread her open
and take what I want from her.

She will know sorrow...

just as
your damnable savages did

as they lay bleeding

in your fetid muck.

A fate you'll wish you...

had enjoyed.

Lay her out.

Record every crack of my whip,
Scholar.

Before you take your pleasure...

Lord...

I should have you know,

while we were lying in wait,

she put on quite a show,

filled the sky with blue flames.

Well...

show us your swamp trickery,
Witch.

Perhaps I'll ease
your suffering.

What does it mean, Witch?

No!

This woman is protected
by the High Order of Ashur,

scholars
of the Pantheon Ashurban.

I will not let you harm her.

You librarians have
no authority here, whelp.

I hope you'll remember that

when the snows come,
your larders empty,

and you're killing each other
for a mouth full of frog meat.

You'll be begging at the
Pantheon's gate for bone meal.

You'll be lucky to get even that
unless the two of us

walk out of here unharmed.

Drag him to the cells.

Maybe we'll get lucky.

She'll tear his heart out
for her swamp magic.

Argh! Don't leave me here!

The Order will hear of this!

Careful, you fools.

I am in pain!

Bring me more wine!

You knew, Mongrel.

You knew she would
try something,

and you let her do it.

Nonsense, Lord.

Careful! Careful!

You will be in my service

until the end of your days.

Or yours... Lord.

In the tomes of times past,
I could be lost.

How?

Oh, you cretins.

Oh, you...

He will kill us, you know?

Then we'll die.

I don't want to die!

Say something.

Who were you
before you joined this Ashur?

I was nobody.

An ignorant peasant boy

till the Ashur opened
their books to me.

They've amassed all
the knowledge of the world...

To what end do you seek?

- I...
- You.

I don't know.

Then think on that
before you die.

You gave me a face
to sew fear into my subjects.

My father always taught me

to repay kindness in the like.

You burned my face.

I...

burned your swamp.

Take a look.

Oh!

Oh...

Enjoy the view.

Your swamp burns.

Free us.

It healed me.

Can it do more?

It is power, yes?

Use it.

Come! We must flee!

The Pantheon will protect us.

No!
She is my mother.

Don't be a fool.

Let survival be your revenge.

Ride them down!

Die, Scholar!

No.

No!

I-I can stop them.
It... It's not too late.

I-I... It's not too late.

I... I...

Oh, please stop!

Please!

No.

Stop!

Please stop.

Father will hear of this.

He will revenge me.

Why?

Why?!

Ghal-Sur...

Tch!

The Barbarian
returned to Pyr

to claim what he thought his.

The scholar rode
to the Pantheon,

Bloom in hand,

and in the Great Swamp
swallowed me.

You confess your own death,

and yet, you stand before me.

Now I wonder if you are not
simply my own madness,

a vision come to torment me.

As The Bloom withers,
I fade from this place.

Do you not feel warmth?

My story simply is.

To cause you torment
is not my intent.

Was I wrong to keep The Bloom
from them for so long?

There is no mercy in the stars,
no hope for man.

I cannot say
what could have been.

But I can tell you what was.

The story continues.

Will you listen?

While my body lay
in the embrace of the swamp,

the sacred Bloom traveled
with a scholar called Ghal-Sur,

and my dreams traveled with it.

A lifetime of seasons passed,

until once again, another came,

one bearing secrets.

Go the scholars, you wench!

Give us food!

- Open the gates!
- Protect the books!

Protect the books!

Go! Protect the books!

Charge!

Coins?

Food? Anything?

I've been gone from Pyr
for many seasons, Old Man.

What has happened?

Why did the Ashur take up arms
at their gates?

Dark times have befallen us.

Great Mongrel the Eunuch King
has died

after a very long reign.

He has left no sons.

You'd think someone
would have realized

that might be a problem
with a eunuch king.

Went off behind
the mountains, he did.

Now the city starves.

But you do not answer
my question, Old Man.

Why?
Why did the Ashur take up arms?

Why do you think?

The scholars care little
for our troubles.

The Ashur are noble scholars,
Old Man.

No, they have all the secrets of
the ages locked in that tower,

yet they share nothing.

What they do not share
is surely too vast,

too complex for the uninitiated
to comprehend.

Be careful.

I can smell the rotting pages
of your books, Scholar.

They will do little good
when the crows come

and pluck the eyes
from your skull.

Doom comes to the Pantheon.

Doom comes to Pyr!

Doom!

Doom!

Doom!

Grand Inquisitor,
we do not have the soldiers

to protect the library.

They will rally against us!

Starving people care nothing
for the centuries

of stored knowledge
we hold here.

- The books will burn!
- Along with the rest of us.

Councilors, please.

We will endure...

just as we did
during the Withered Spring,

the Red Tempest, and
The Night of a Thousand Suns.

The Pantheon is immortal.

And in a season's time,

that horde will have
dried up and blown away

like so much dust
on a long forgotten tome.

What if we taught them?

If we opened our gates...

Enough, San-Al!

I'll refer you
to the sacred vows

you swore to order.

To gather and protect
the knowledge of man.

Our vows call also for mercy!

Our order has no responsibility
to the men themselves.

Our gates,

our food stores stay sealed.

Ah!

Especially now that Phae-Agura

has finally returned

with, I trust,

a bounty of tomes to be indexed,

translated, and archived.

Go forth.

Fulfill your vows.

Argh, Phae...

I am doomed to forever wrestle

with these ineffectual cretins.

Now, it has been long since
I have left the Pantheon.

I would hear of your travels
with my own ears.

Tell me...

did you reach the temples
beneath Ka-Mul?

Yes.

And many of the vaults
were flooded,

just as your research
showed they would be.

I passed through ruins
of unknown design and origin,

a world waiting
to be rediscovered.

The sacred texts
were hidden deep

within a statue bearing
only a single eye.

God of their
nameless mound.

Mm,
rumors of the statue

being trapped proved false.

Once I was inside,
their knowledge came to me

as if with a desire all its own.

I've returned with a great
number of them for the library.

I hope you didn't
leave the best books

heaped upon that wagon.

Show them to me.

This one in particular
caught my eye.

Yes.

This is truly a wonder.

But what is the script?

I cannot read a page of it.

Ghal-Sur?

Inquisitor Uruq.

Have you brought me another one?

These have run dry,

I'm afraid.

No.

I have come to request knowledge

of our oldest
and wisest scholar.

Oldest, wisest...

and most imprisoned!

From the temples
beneath Ka-Mul.

It is not in any script

I have encountered
in my studies.

You've spoken for ages

of a key to unlock
the true potential

of the flowers
you wear around your neck.

Perhaps this is that key.

These are the old names
in the old script.

This is indeed the ritual
I've so long dreamt of.

I have been chained here,

kept as a pathetic oracle
for the Ashurban for too long.

This ritual will reveal what
these corpses never could.

Release me!

Feigned!

I'll no more release you

than I'll let the council
control the library.

Your impulses
would overtake you.

Not impulses, Uruq.

Studies.

What is the nature of the power
you would unleash.

It is unspeakable power.

Whatever you dream,
you will have.

I will not free you,

but I have a proposition.

I bring you what you need
to perform the ritual,

and you...

share its power with me.

Share it?

Yes.

Our words shall fill

the living ears
of gods long dead.

Pray that they respond.

What must I do?

Take this.

Why?

What is it that you need?

Blood.

I'll need more blood.

But the people
starve at our gates.

This is not how
it's supposed to be, friend.

Aye, maybe not.

But it is how it is.

If we do nothing,
then the Pantheon will fall.

Can't you see that?

Be thankful you're in here
and not out there.

What does the great text

of Og-Nesh say about
contentment?

"Clear your eyes, and you will
see it before you at all times."

This has been a comfort,
my friend.

The food's in there!

Take it!

Or we burn it all down.

We're under attack!
To arms!

Burn the Pantheon!

Throw down your arms
and return to your city!

The Pantheon's winter reserves
could never feed you all.

Perhaps not,

but we will fill
our bellies tonight!

Kill the scholars!

The library must be preserved.

Burn the Pantheon!

Kill them all!
Skin them alive!

The blood you require,

it is flowing.

Then let us begin in earnest.

Stop this madness!

There's another way besides

cutting each other down
in the streets.

We have books that tell which
of the All Sorrow's plants

are edible and which are poison.

We can teach you to survive!
We can teach you to...

We will teach them nothing.

The wisdom of the library

is for the greatest minds
in the world of men.

Inquisitor... what happened?

I am enlightened.

Now I deal with these wretches.

Would they take our vows?

They can't even read the words!

They're animals!

And if they do not
flee the Pantheon,

they will be slaughtered
as animals.

Inquisitor!

Cease your necromancy!

No!

Inquisitor, what have you done?

A traitor
to the order of the Ashur,

just like the counselors.

I shall shape a new Pantheon,

one with no place for those
whose resolve is so...

weak.

Think of all
that is gathered here.

I shall be oracle to the world.

Beggars, kings, and gods alike

will kneel at the Pantheon gate

for merely a sliver
of the knowledge I will command.

I will no longer need the books.

I shall drink them in

as I have drunk the life blood
from the fallen below us!

You word
is the font of knowledge.

The books are more important
than any man.

That is our oath.
That is our purpose!

I'm making a new oath!

Fealty unto me.

No.

I am Phae-Agura,

scholar of the library
of Ashurban,

protector of knowledge,

and I will not let you do this!

I'm afraid there's no room
in my new order for heroes.

Oh, make it stop!

Make it stop!

Make it stop!

Oh!

Once freed, Ghal-Sur
destroyed the Ashurban Pantheon.

The books burned.

The scholars were slaughtered.

Ghal-Sur pried secrets
from The Bloom,

and using them,
he amassed great power,

raising an army of disciples.

He had overcome death,

and he had glimpsed
into the eye of the un...

Ruin and doom!

I had hoped to spare the world
the horror of revelation.

The promise of The Bloom is
meant as a dream, unfulfilled...

In Ghal-Sur's hands,
The Bloom is...

I'll hear no more of this!

You would choose ignorance?

You who has see the secrets
of the stars themselves.

Let me fade.

Let me not hear
the pain of the world.

I've served a long,
solitary penance already.

I know you have,
but you are not the only one

who has faced the void
without succumbing to it.

Let me now tell you
of moments of great dignity

as the armies of Ghal-Sur
cross the land.

Go now!
An army approaches!

A glorious conquest for Pyr!

But our triumph tonight...

will pale when compared

to the immortal grandeur

of our conquest tomorrow.

All hail, Ghal-Sur!

We shall shatter

all those who oppose us.

We shall make them in our image.

Their knowledge is ours.

Look to the horizon.

It tells us that there's still
a world left to conquer.

Pyr will stretch
from the Inevitable Sea

to the Deserts of Ul-Imir.

We launch.

They're gone.

Everyone's just gone.

Did you find anything
for us to eat?

No.

I did find this.

It can at least consecrate
our hearth.

The stars!

Like... Like sparrows falling

into the lake of ice
and diamonds.

They feel so warm to me.

Distant travelers
stopped briefly

to huddle around campfires
on their journey

across the very spine
of night's great body.

And did these travelers
lose their homes, too?

Are they as powerless against
their nature as we are to ours?

The great dark...
It's back is to us.

I don't think it's concerned
with such things.

To it, our births and deaths

are mere embers drifting free
from tiny fires.

It's comforting, in a way.

All that night makes
the darkness here

seem so much smaller.

Oh, no.

Gull, should we run?

No, there's nowhere to run to.

It's too late.

Our little lives...

so short, so sad.

I'm so grateful that
I've gotten to share

so much of mine with you.

Don't be afraid, Gull.

Remember all embers fade.

Those flames forever
rekindled and extinguished.

I wonder what our fire light
looks like to them.

I would have a tale
from you, Guardian.

The Bloom has shown me
many things,

but I know nothing
of its mother's journey

before opening here
on this mountain.

They sang songs of it
when I was a boy.

Even now, having seen so much,

I cannot tell where truth
gave way to myth.

Beyond light and smoke,

the gods raged in blindness,

their hands without purpose,
but to wield tools of war.

The head of one,
severed from its body,

spilled blood into the sky,

filling it with both
light and dark.

The final dream
of the dead god...

his sons.

The world was theirs.

Anything they dreamed
became manifest.

In time,
one son dreamt of mankind.

And so came their first breathe.

For ages untold and uncounted,

men and women lived
in the shadow of the sons.

To man,

the sons were uncaring gods
of their world.

What they learned of it,

they taught themselves...

and they survived.

The sons dreamed of rain...

so floods came.

And mankind learned of loss.

Man came to the sun

and begged him to dream her
once again.

He learned another lesson
that day.

His gods were not
merely indifferent...

they were cruel.

He swore revenge.

He promised his followers
the world,

and then he showed them
how to take it.

The blood, the violence,
it bound them to him.

And they named the man Seer,

the first king of men.

For an age,

Seer led the hunt
for the remaining sons.

He struck again and again.

His rage, insatiable.

At last,

asleep in the snowy foothills,

Seer found the son
who had first dreamed man,

the same son
who had refused him.

Knowing his dreams
had come to kill him,

the son fled up
to the mountain's peak.

As a child, they told me
if you listened carefully,

you could still hear
the cries of the battle

echoing on the wind.

Seer proclaimed his victory
to herald a new era of peace.

They say it lasted but a year.

Glory be to Seer,
the first king,

same as all
who have followed him.

One man waited
atop the mountain.

Perhaps he felt sorrow

at the death
of the world's old masters,

perhaps simple curiosity
held him there.

What he expected to find,
I cannot say.

What he did find...

The Bloom.

And there, he saw
the true dark beyond the light.

the sons of gods were
the sons of gods themselves,

and they, too, sons of gods,

on and on.

Every god, a god of death.

In the dark, he saw that
man's newfound world

was nothing but dust,

and he vowed that he would spare
the race of man this truth.

He vowed to keep
from them The Bloom

and the scope of its revelation.

He chose to grant mankind
a gift...

ignorance.

Eventually, man came.

He knew that they would.

They were desperate for hope.

He spared them nothing.

They would not be the last.

And so it went for ages

until...

Perhaps the burden
had grown too great.

Perhaps the archer
was simply too skilled.

No matter the cause, he fell,

and the cycle began anew.

Another dread revelation,

another guardian
to stand watch over The Bloom.

I, too, came here seeking hope.

Two tyrant kings had been at war
since my birth.

Just before the harvest season,

their conflicts
came through our fields.

Our crops burned.
My children starved.

Wounded, raging, I set out.

We fought, and he fell.

Many times, I've wished
it had gone the other way.

I wanted to know the truth
behind the myths of my youth.

I learned it.

I remember now so vividly
my first sight of it,

my first breath of it.

It was intoxicating...

all that I'd hoped, more.

I went beyond the stars,

beyond time.

There, I saw the truth.

in the face
of the endless light,

everything mankind
fights and dies for,

lives and hopes for,

it is meaningless,

It is all for naught.

And I knew then what every
Guardian before me had known...

that humanity must be protected
from that truth.

Why not destroy The Bloom
if it was so powerful?

I ask you...

...who are we to destroy
the mysteries of the night.

We merely stand at the threshold

between men and gods.

If I had known

what was happening below...

I would have.

The spores of your Bloom...

my fault.

I am so tired now.

Daughter of man,
let The Bloom die.

Leave.

Let these words of my failure
be my last.

No.

This night is not yet done.

Listen, that you might know
how I came to find you.

And hear the fate of the world.

Why do so many fight
for Ghal-Sur?

Mighty God King Ghal-Sur's
promise of eternal life

has brought the weak willed
to his cause.

We fight to survive.

They fight for the chance
to escape death.

I am eager to spill their blood.

Don't wish for their deaths,
Sparrowcrow.

Wish that death might stop.

You wish for peace.

I'll wish for revenge.

The walls are holding
against the ground troops,

but our scouts to the West

report a new breed
of war machine.

How long until
they're inside the city walls?

That depends on an array
of factors, Your Grace.

Morale of the troops,
supply trains,

- the next batch of grain...
- No more than two sunsets.

This is not what your aides
have been telling us, General.

Two sunsets.

Then our home will burn,

and the world will begin
to forget that it ever existed.

Tonight is the last night
of books of Uxon.

Be sure of it.

Jae taught us that King Uxon
established this order,

that it might always
watch over the city,

not that it would idle
and wait for its destruction.

We've got to do something.

Nothing will end this war,
short of an impossibility.

Ghal-Sur is immortal.
Ghal-Sur must die.

Let us fly to his black heart
and cut it from its cage.

How?! His fortress lies
beyond the Great Swamp.

He is sequestered
behind massive iron walls

in a tower made of death itself.

His airships will return
to the city walls.

Tomorrow, we board
one of those ships

and ride it back to our Pyr.

A foolish plan.

Hmm.

Perhaps.

You both believe it can be done?

Better
to die in glory.

Then tomorrow,

we take back the air.

The flying machine approaches.

Wait till it gets close enough
for the catapults to launch.

Argh!

Attack!

Enemy attack!

For Uxon.

For Jae, we strike.

So much lost.

The elders taught
of the Great Dead Swamp

and the fall of the Ashur.

But how could they?

How could we have been so blind
to this vast, ruin

until it was at our gates?

Look, his black Pantheon,

just as Jae used to whisper
of it.

Is it as you imagined?

It's worse.

God-King,
your brave fallen soldiers

have returned from
the Uxon front.

Will you grant them your gift

and let them live again
beyond the mountains?

We ask not for an answer.

Only a sign.

Great God-King Ghal-Sur,

we humble ourselves
before your mercy.

We serve in the hope
of your favor.

Let the rebirthing process
begin.

It is time.

If the ship lands, we won't
make it over the iron wall.

May we three meet again
in this life,

for we know there is no other.

Try to keep us level.

I'm gonna clear
the rest of the ship.

There's a pest
in my forge engine!

Aaah!

Aaah!

Who dares?

I do.

Our people have suffered
long enough.

Your people are nothing.

Your species is meaningless.

I am a god!

Aah!

You failed, little bird.

I wonder, do gods also suffer?

The Bloom yet lives.

Those that have stared
into the great dark.

The Bloom does not forget
who they were.

That's how I knew you were
still here, Guardian.

For so long, we're shielded
the world from that

which it could not fathom.

Legends and myths
were no barrier

when The Bloom's power
was unleashed.

Could it ever
have been otherwise?

It's too late to change
what has happened.

But not too late
to change what will be.

Must knowledge
only come at a terrible cost?

Rest now.

And I will make the slate clean

so that mankind may see
the stars with their own eyes.

Wait.

Wait!

Someone approaches.

Do not worry.
I called him here.

You have given me what I need,
your sacrifice.

I thank you for it.

Know peace at last, Guardian.

You have stood your watch
until its very end.

There must be
a million faces I've forgotten

over the centuries.

Not yours, swamp witch.

Once again, you have The Bloom,

and once again,
I will kill you for it.

This is the very last
it will grow.

The final breath of The Bloom's
power upon this world.

Your cause is lost.

There are so many secrets
still to pry from it.

I shall become
the truth behind truths.

I will be the gates
of knowledge,

the very Bloom manifest!

Do not mistake ritual for truth.

Do not mistake
the desire for power

with the desire for knowledge.

Kill her.

Your swamp incantations
cannot help you here.

Huh?

Aah!

Feel the might
of the emperor god!

Aah!

I am...

You are nothing.

Look to the stars, Ghal-Sur.

Tremble before the immensity
of the night!

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull