Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 182

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 182.
The Voice of the Sealed Land (28)
White cloth bound their eyes, and as gags were forced into their mouths, the young boys writhed and thrashed with their entire bodies. One of them let out a cry so frantic it was nearly incomprehensible, yet its meaning did not reach the ears of the onlookers.
Soon enough, all the gags were in place. The practice of silencing the condemned stemmed from a belief that if one touched by death were to voice a curse born of malice, its effects would manifest in reality.
Likos, the first to be led forth, refused to walk. He collapsed to the ground, and when they attempted to lift him, he twisted his bound hands and hung limply, emitting sounds that were neither groans nor cries.
Yet his resistance did not last long. Two young men seized an arm each and hoisted him upright, speaking thus:
“If you continue this way, you will lose even the opportunity to walk to the cliff’s edge.”
Likos’s arms were released at a position with barely five steps remaining to the precipice.
The blindfolded boy turned and attempted to flee toward the crowd, uttering muffled sounds through his gag. Only his feet remained free.
Yet for one whose eyes were bound, the cliff’s edge was far too narrow.
The moment Likos turned his feet, he stepped into empty air, lost his balance, and plummeted into the water below.
Buried beneath the sound of waves, the noise of something falling seemed to come from a very distant place.
Yet it was the four remaining boys who heard that sound most acutely. All four convulsed at once and collapsed to the ground. Saliva dripped from beyond their gags, and their blindfolds were soaked with tears.
But it was all in vain. Just as before, the young men who walked the Path of the Sword lifted the boys one by one and sent them all to the cliff’s edge.
Gale, like Likos, attempted to turn and flee but misjudged his direction and fell. Another was ultimately thrown into the sea by the young men’s hands. Once, instead of the sound of something falling into water, there came a sharp, cracking sound as if something had burst.
Thus, even the last boy met his sentence—merciless and absolute.
Among the onlookers, there was no one weeping. Those who had appealed for mercy toward the condemned after the verdict were forbidden from witnessing the execution and could not be present here. This too was to prevent the harboring of resentment.
Yet even so, Daphnen felt a chill settle in his chest at the sight of young boys, gripped by terror, dying before them—and not a single tear falling from any observer’s eye.
The islanders merely sighed softly. The Moon Queen’s retribution was truly fearsome, and they resolved only to live their lives without committing such acts.
Oizis had not come to this place either. Daphnen speculated that it must be because Oizis lacked the fortitude to witness such a sight.
Yet the truth remained unknowable. Perhaps Oizis had not come out of fear of being cursed, or perhaps he wished to avoid the scorn of the people?
Strangely, I felt my resolve crumble. Despite being the instigator of this affair, I no longer harbored the will to drag out Ekion, who had escaped alone, and subject him to the same punishment as these boys.
No—now I was even confused about whether such an act would be right.
The dead children had certainly committed cruel deeds. Yet the islanders showed no interest in understanding why they had become this way.
In ordinary times, no one had ever told them this path was wrong. They had simply been left alone, as if it were acceptable. And then, the moment they crossed the line, they were punished with equal cruelty.
Did the island bear no responsibility for their actions beyond mere punishment?
It was barren land. Unbearably cold.
Yet as Daphnen returned among the onlookers after the execution was complete, he clearly discerned the traces of dried tears at the corners of Nauplion’s eyes.
Daphnen took Nauplion’s hand. And together they made their way back to the village, mingling with the crowd.

May arrived, and soon the festival day came.
On an island where boisterous celebration and play were rare, the festival in early May when the children’s purification ceremony was held stood as one of the few exceptions.
The purification ceremony was the final event of the festival. Before that, abundant food was prepared and laid out, and for two days everyone ate and drank together without restraint.
Since The Island always suffered from a shortage of crops and livestock, it was uncommon to prepare food in such wasteful abundance. Yet during this time alone, people made an exception and their generosity flourished.
It was neither particularly grand nor long compared to the festivals of the Continent, but for those who had never lived on the Continent, there was no better time than this.
Yet Daphnen could not bring himself to enjoy the festival that had returned after a year.
Last year and the year before, the festival had not been particularly thrilling, but this time he did not even want to see the faces of those who were celebrating.
Had it been ten days since the five children disappeared?
Yet no one remembered them or spoke of them. He could not tell if some were deliberately doing so.
Even at Scoli, they had taken care to ensure that the absence of these children was not felt. The classroom arrangement had been completely renewed, with the number of chairs reduced, and the teachers had erased everything—their belongings, even graffiti that mentioned their names.
Daphnen had never felt the islanders so unfamiliar to him as he did now.
They were cold-hearted people devoid of compassion, terrible foreigners who would never be accepted on the Continent, he thought.
Caught in such thoughts, even his own self—who would become a formal Pilgrim in this festival’s purification ceremony—sometimes felt deeply unfamiliar to him. A Pilgrim? Who? Himself?
Consumed by such thoughts, when Daphnen happened to encounter Isolet on the festival street, he found himself merely staring at her, forgetting even to speak.
Isolet was at a small market where islanders exchanged their belongings. For someone of her nature, the fact that she was wandering such a place alone was, in a way, unexpected.
Upon discovering Daphnen, Isolet stopped as if she thought he would say something or speak to her.
But seeing that Daphnen did not open his mouth, she lowered her eyes and simply passed by. After that, he did not encounter her again throughout the festival period.
When the day of the purification ceremony dawned, Daphnen lay in bed with his eyes open, thinking.
It was not right to continue this way without saying anything to Isolet. When they traveled together on the Continent, he had clearly expressed several times that he cared for her, and she must have felt it sufficiently.
So from Isolet’s perspective, Daphnen’s sudden change in attitude without any particular reason might be bewildering.
But even if he spoke, would Isolet understand?
Probably not. It was a lie to say that she did not possess the islanders’ nature that he had felt so keenly in recent times.
Yet when it came to Isolet’s matter, all such aversion proved useless. How much better it would be if such aversion could be put to better use, making him wish to keep her at a distance.
While eating breakfast, Daphnen stared at Nauplion’s tousled hair for a long time.
“Why are you staring?”
Even as he moved his spoon, his eyes did not leave. Nauplion, who had lived long on the Continent, was different from the islanders. Was it not himself who had come all this way, captivated by his character?
“How is your body feeling?”
Receiving such an unexpected question, Nauplion shrugged one shoulder and replied.
“As you can see, I’m fine.”
“You have no pain anywhere?”
“Expecting my decline already is unreasonable.”
His tone was so genuinely unconcerned that Daphnen felt somewhat confused. Did such a wound truly exist? Could the scene he witnessed in the Forest of Hearts have been nothing but his hallucination?
But what came out next was an absurd blessing.
“May you live long and well.”
Nauplion, spoon in his mouth, replied in exasperation.
“Is today New Year’s Day or something?”
“Who said that? Can’t I speak?”
“Never mind. I’m so healthy these days that having nothing to do but idle around is driving me mad. This festival needs to end soon, I tell you.”
Once the meal ended, Nauplion had Daphnen come closer, smoothed his hair a bit, and adjusted his clothing.
Since Daphnen was generally neat in keeping his surroundings tidy, his appearance was ordinarily orderly, so there was truly little to correct.
Even though it was the day of the purification ceremony, there were no new clothes to wear. Since neither of the two men knew how to sew, they simply washed their cleanest garments thoroughly and put them on.
Once the preparations were complete, Nauplion gave Daphnen a few taps on the shoulder and spoke.
“Then I’ll see you at the Town Hall later.”
When Daphnen arrived at the Town Hall, quite a crowd had already gathered there, creating a bustling atmosphere.
There were six children in total, all fifteen years old, participating in today’s purification ceremony.
Two of the five boys who had received the death sentence by drowning should have been present at this gathering as well. However, neither they nor their parents and siblings were anywhere to be seen.
Once the ceremony concluded, Daphnen would become a formal Pilgrim. He would never again be able to return to his former life as a Continental or a Trabaches resident.
Among the Island’s people, only a handful who had received special missions lived on the Continent. Ordinarily, they spent their entire lives within the Island and met their end there.
In the courtyard of the Town Hall stood a massive stone table that Daphnen had never seen before—an object that would barely be movable even if ten men worked together to shift it.
At the center of the pale yellowish stone table was a circular depression like a basin, filled with water. Yellow and violet flower petals floated upon the fragrant water.
Yellow ribbons had been tied to the surrounding branches, and a generous armful of yellow daffodils, gathered for the children who would undergo the ceremony, stood arranged in a large bucket.
Yellow was said to be the color of the Ancient Kingdom. Daphnen, who remembered the vision of Ganapoli shown by the spirits, recalled the golden tiger that had been depicted on the flags there.
The ceremony was simple yet profoundly moving.
As each of the six children stepped forward before the stone table in turn, one of the priesthood waited and sprinkled water mixed with flower petals upon their head, then posed a few simple questions.
Once their answers were complete, a child who had undergone the purification ceremony the previous year stood beside them and presented a bundle of daffodils from the bucket. The child of honor would then distribute these daffodils among the gathered people.
Daphnen was last. Unusually, the Regent had decided to preside over the ceremony personally, and a tall chair with a large cushion had been placed to accommodate the Regent, who could not use his legs.
Since Daphnen had arrived on the Island, this was the first time the Regent had presided over a purification ceremony. People whispered that it was because Liriope was among the children receiving the ceremony today.
Since Liriope had been frequently absent from Scoli recently, Daphnen had not seen her in quite some time.
Indeed, after he had decided to ignore her entirely some time ago, he had no memory of having a proper conversation with her.
On this day, Liriope was by far the most striking among the six children undergoing the purification ceremony.
She wore a white linen dress that reached to her knees, long ribbons tied around her wrists that hung down gracefully, and a tall, conical headdress shaped like an inverted lily flower.
Beneath the headdress’s rim, which curled outward like lily petals, her small face with eyes cast slightly downward appeared utterly pure and lovely.
Even Daphnen, standing beside her, found himself tilting his head in surprise, wondering if Liriope had always been so beautiful.
“Smicros, step forward.”
The first boy advanced before the stone table, and the ceremony began.

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