Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 167

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 167.
The Voice of the Sealed Land (13)

If only Oizis would awaken, he could testify, and there would be no need for complicated deduction. Yet Oizis’s condition continued to deteriorate.
Four days later, when Daphnen went to see Oizis, he heard something startling from Morpheus.
Zero, who had been living temporarily in an abandoned house that people had discarded since the Library burned down, had not visited Oizis even once during all this time.
“Is that truly the case?”
“Not only does he refuse to come here, but he’s also rejecting visitors altogether. I’m not even sure if he leaves the house anymore.”
Daphnen himself had turned back several times after seeing the sign refusing entry at Zero’s door. Yet Oizis was not a child whom Zero merely tolerated—he was one whom Zero cherished enough to rush into flames to save without regard for his own safety.
The thought that such a child was dying day by day, and Zero would not even think to visit him, was utterly incomprehensible.
Thus Daphnen resolved that no matter how many times his visit was refused, he must see Zero. That afternoon, he made his way to the house where Zero lived.
The house was an abandoned dwelling that had gone unattended for years, and despite the islanders having made rough repairs, it remained pitifully desolate.
The familiar sign still hung before the door, but Daphnen paid it no mind and knocked. In his hand, he carried several books he had retrieved at great peril from within the Library’s ruins.
Receiving no answer, he knocked again.
“Sir, it’s Daphnen! Please, I must see you—open the door!”
After a long moment, a familiar yet strangely unfamiliar voice came through.
“It’s open.”
As Daphnen opened the door, he hesitated before stepping inside.
The floor was scattered with all manner of objects and refuse, making it unclear where to place his feet.
Looking ahead, he saw Zero sitting on an old bed with no partition around it. Zero turned his head toward Daphnen and spoke without a smile.
“It’s a mess. Just come in.”
Daphnen closed the door behind him, picked his way around the objects on the floor, and made it to the foot of the bed, but there was not a single seat to sit upon.
He managed to drag over a single box and sat, noticing that Zero’s face looked terribly haggard, and asked.
“Are you unwell?”
Zero’s hair and beard were unkempt, and his clothing was equally disheveled.
The Library of old, though cluttered with miscellaneous items and appearing disorganized, had been a comfortable place where everything was arranged conveniently for its master.
But this place was not. As if a tempest had swept through, even the sparse belongings lay in complete disarray.
“I’m fine.”
Zero’s tone resembled his usual manner, yet something about it sounded hollow and lifeless.
Daphnen felt his unease growing as he studied Zero’s face intently. Zero seemed to be avoiding his gaze, his eyes wavering and constantly shifting in other directions.
“I’m sorry I have nothing to offer you for coming all this way. So, what brings you here?”
Daphnen was at a loss. In his hands were three or four books retrieved from the ruins. Yet Zero was speaking as if he hadn’t even seen them.
“Sir, these…”
Daphnen placed the books on Zero’s lap. Zero grasped them, then spoke as if only then understanding.
“Ah… where did you get these?”
“There were more books remaining in the Library than I expected. If I look carefully, I think I can salvage about a quarter of them.”
“Ah, I see…”
Zero sat in silence for a long moment before speaking.
“What’s the point now… I appreciate it, but there was no need to go to such trouble.”
It was not the reaction Daphnen had anticipated at all. With nothing more to say, he brought up the subject of Oizis.
“It seems Oizis’s condition continues to deteriorate. Even Morpheus has grown pessimistic about it….”
I couldn’t very well demand to know why he hadn’t come to visit, so I phrased it more delicately—yet hearing his response only deepened my bewilderment.
“Life and death are not matters for mortals to decide. It all comes down to his fortune. Visiting him won’t bring back someone meant to perish.”
Zero was not a cynical man. Perhaps the deceased Ilios Priest might have spoken such words, but Zero would not.
As I fell silent, struggling for words, my gaze drifted—and something peculiar caught my eye.
Several bottle-like vessels sat upon the table and windowsill, yet every single one lay with its cap left carelessly open.
Sensing something gravely amiss, I began to examine the dwelling methodically. What I found was far more troubling than a few open bottles.
Dishes from meals lay scattered about as though abandoned long ago; clothes hung inside-out upon their hooks; what appeared to be carefully stacked items were in fact haphazardly arranged, turned this way and that in disarray….
Every detail pointed to a single, inescapable truth.
I looked at Zero, then slowly extended my fingertips to gently prod the back of his neck. As expected, he flinched and turned—yet his arm never reached toward mine, as though he hadn’t seen it at all.
“Ah, so it was you.”
I couldn’t help but speak.
“Can you see my face right now? Can you see what expression I’m wearing?”
“….”
I lowered my head. It was the worst possible scenario—the most terrible situation I could imagine.
Zero, who loved books so dearly and had spent his entire life with them, could no longer see!
“How could this…why….”
Not knowing what else to say, I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly. The anguish was nearly unbearable. Zero answered in a flat, emotionless tone.
“My eyesight was never particularly good to begin with. Reading books in dim light for so long likely hastened the decline. Ilios knew I disliked moving about, so he even designed a mechanism that could open all the windows with a single handle—but I also dislike the noise from outside, so….”
“That’s not…that’s not what I mean! It was because of what happened before, wasn’t it? That fire….”
“It certainly had an effect. Well…my left eye can still see a little, at least.”
Zero seemed unwilling to explain the circumstances of his blindness within that inferno.
I couldn’t press him further, and my heart ached with each word he spoke. His every utterance pierced me like a blade.
“With my sight gone, the books I could read have vanished alongside it. In a way, it’s a rather fitting turn of events.”
“Uncle!”
I seized his right hand firmly.
I knew well that there was nothing I could do for him. Not all of the world’s misfortunes exist to be undone.
Yet the sight of Zero surrounded by a ruined home, uncapped medicine bottles, forgotten dishes, and the impossible disorder of things he could no longer organize—it filled me with an sorrow beyond words. Why? Why does such cruelty exist in this world? Why?
Sensing my trembling hands, Zero extended his left hand and gently pushed both of mine away. Though he struggled to maintain his composure, his voice carried emotion for the first time.
“Tell no one. I don’t wish to burden anyone.”
“How can you say such a thing! I cannot leave you to live in this condition!”
“No, just leave me be.”
Zero suddenly rose from his seat. He raised his hands to cover both eyes, then lowered them after a long moment. I, whose eyes saw clearly, could not begin to fathom what world existed in his vision now.
Zero spoke softly.
“There is still a little I can see. Though it grows worse with each passing day. The time will come soon enough. Until then, allow me to manage alone. Even if Morpheus came, he cannot restore sight to eyes that no longer function. I’ve known for some time that my vision was deteriorating, so I’ve already investigated everything there is to know about my condition.”
Zero let his hands fall. In that posture, he gazed toward some indefinable place. Or rather, he did not gaze—he simply faced it.
“In the end, I will become a burden to everyone. I know this well. Before that happens, I must prepare myself mentally. I regret that I cannot visit Oizis, but I don’t wish to be discovered in this way. I have no desire to see people’s shock and fuss. Once I’ve had more time to prepare….”
Everyone requires time to accept their own disability. There were those like the Regent who ultimately refused acceptance and misdirected their rage—but Zero was not such a man.
“I understand….”
I felt foolish for bringing books when he was trying so hard to release his attachment to them. Why had I never anticipated such a situation?
“Forgive me.”
The two of us sat facing each other in silence for a long time. Watching Zero’s eyes flicker in and out of focus, I felt an resentment toward all the irreversible things in this world that was almost unbearable.
If only time could flow and circle back to the beginning like a loop. Then I would gladly sit here and wait as long as it took.
Daphnen rose to his feet. He did not know what words would make a proper farewell.
He simply bowed his head, then realized it could not be seen, so he opened his mouth and said he would take his leave. The words “farewell” would not leave his lips.
Zero only nodded. As I turned toward the door, Zero’s final voice reached my ears.
“Fire was set to my dreams… all of them.”
After closing the door, Daphnen leaned against it for a moment.
I thought that if I had not been Nauplion’s disciple, I would have told him I wanted to spend my life at his side, helping him.
That would have been perhaps a fleeting impulse, a decision I might later regret.
I certainly felt a sense of responsibility, yet such sacrifice was not easy for anyone to bear. Anyone who spoke of such sacrifice as if it were natural would be a hypocrite.
I recalled Zero at the Graveyard before the fire, and the day before that at the Library, speaking with fervent passion of The Island’s past and future.
Zero understood his own limitations well, and to me, whom he believed lay beyond those limits, he had spoken of a hope he had harbored in silence for so long. Yet I had heard it all and given him no promise in return.
And even now, I had no certainty to offer.
When Zero said that Oizis’s name meant “pain,” I had once recalled what he ordinarily endured and thought how tragically fitting the meaning of his name was.
Yet the meaning contained in that name was far more terrible than that.
To be trampled and hunted by others throughout a short life, living in degradation, never even able to unfold the dreams he had cherished—was this truly his fate?
It was an afternoon so bleak I wanted to flee. Since coming to The Island, I had endured countless trials, but the resolve to never turn back once I had turned my back on the Continent had sustained me.
Yet now, as I had once done on the Continent, I was seized and crushed by the desire to escape from the reality of this land.
If I fled, would happiness or hope await in a new place? I knew better than anyone. There would be none.
I understood all too well that hope does not come from what we abandon and grasp anew, but from what we ultimately refuse to abandon.
Yet now I am simply too weary.
Weary enough to want to collapse like the dead and rest, even knowing it is futile.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————