Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 200

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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 200.
Choose the Dawn (12)
The outcome matched what Boris had heard from the spirits.
Evbzenis, unaware that Gitisi was her father, ultimately killed him. And upon learning the truth, she resolved to sacrifice herself to the Origin of Extinction that would save Arcadia, determined to break the cycle of recurring sin.
Shortly after, Evbzenis reunited with Epibiono, who had rushed to Arcadia after seven years.
“Seven years had passed, so we had both changed considerably. Evbzenis had lost her natural cheerfulness and gained deeply shadowed eyes. As for me, having been a hermit, I’d grown rather cantankerous in my own way. The first thing we did upon meeting after such a long separation was, absurdly enough, to quarrel.”
Epibiono shook his head slowly, as if acknowledging the ridiculousness himself.
“Neither of us could restrain ourselves. We argued over trivial matters—things that a single apology would have resolved—yet the urgency of knowing the end was near made us both irritable. It’s laughable, really. Usually in such circumstances, people forgive even unforgivable grievances, don’t they? But later, reflecting on it, I realized Evbzenis had done it deliberately to prevent me from joining the ceremony at the Dawn Tower.”
Epibiono suddenly bent at the waist and let out a light laugh.
“Hehehehe… Would that even be possible? If I hadn’t resolved myself to death, would I have killed my own puppet? And then I even mocked Evbzenis, sneering at whether those scraps from the Round Table of Truth or whatever could succeed in the Origin of Extinction without my help. The princess, of course, was furious.”
Epibiono ceased laughing and slowly swept his skeletal fingers through his hair.
“Looking back, it was truly pathetic. I don’t understand why I wasted our final moments together alive with such useless bickering. Had I known I would suffer a thousand years without Evbzenis, I would never have done it.”
Epibiono fell silent, his expression ambiguous—whether smiling or grieving.
Boris understood his feelings with surprising clarity. He too had suffered whenever thinking of Isolet, agonizing over why he had squandered their precious time together so carelessly.
The image that had appeared in the void gradually faded, transforming into glimmering dust that vanished. Epibiono, who had been staring blankly at it, spoke.
“What’s even sadder is that I’m gradually forgetting Evbzenis.”
“Forgetting? But you said you haven’t forgotten anything from a thousand years ago?”
“Of course. The memories themselves don’t fade. But regardless of that, other things do disappear. Emotions, you might say. I remember the circumstances clearly, yet the feelings I had at that moment aren’t preserved. It’s a matter of the heart… I remember every accidental glance from those days, and I even recall what thoughts I harbored because of that glance, but that’s all. The emotions of that day don’t come alive in my chest. Like this—functional, but not truly a hand.”
Epibiono opened and closed his hand, then offered a bitter smile.
“If what you say is true, then the obsession and suffering that kept me alive in this form no longer comes to mind. It’s diluted, worn away, drained of color… until I wonder if what I experienced was something I lived through, or merely a story I read in a book.”
Boris fell silent. He understood that a thousand years was a long time, and that nothing could remain unchanged over such a span.
Yet it was difficult to accept that even the most desperate emotions governing human hearts could be erased by time.
A heart that seemed eternal even if the world perished—could it truly fade away with merely the passage of time?
“Perhaps in time I won’t even feel regret anymore. Maybe that would be a better state than this.”
A rustling sound came from behind. The voice of Nayatrey, standing behind Boris, was heard.
“But you won’t live a thousand years.”
Boris paused to think, then was startled. Nayatrey’s words struck precisely at what he had been contemplating—that as long as he didn’t live a thousand years, he need not fear losing his emotions.
Epibiono also spoke, his tone shifting.
“Now I’d like you both to go. Actually, let me give you a gift. Exchange your cloak for mine. It should prove useful.”
Boris nodded and removed his cloak. Whether it would help or not, he didn’t wish to refuse Epibiono’s offer.
But as Epibiono took Boris’s cloak, he fell silent as if embarrassed, then spoke.
“While I remove my cloak and put on yours, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t look back. It’s just that…”
Boris didn’t bother asking why and turned around.
He could understand without being told. Epibiono had been a proud mage who fell in love with a noble princess. Regardless of what he looked like, who would wish to show a body that had surely decayed horribly and half-rotted?
Epibiono’s cloak wasn’t particularly worn. It was a cloak that reached to about the knees, dyed a deep black.
“It would be better to release the two beasts. If you keep them bound, they’ll have no way to survive until you return. And you won’t need travel supplies where you’re going. Once you arrive, you’ll understand—someone will be waiting for you.”
Epibiono, now wearing Boris’s cloak, smiled faintly and led them both to the well.
Boris hesitated slightly because of the stories he’d heard, then peered into the well. It was dark, and nothing was visible. Epibiono joked from beside him.
“Oh my, it seems the water has all dried up.”
As Boris and Nayatrey sat with their legs dangling into the well, Epibiono offered several warnings.
He instructed them to follow whoever they encountered first upon entering, assuring them that even if they met multiple people, they would quickly recognize their guide. He added a special warning as he looked directly at Boris.
“And it would be wise to keep Endymion’s possession safe—it may prove useful.”
Boris asked in confusion.
“You know Endymion?”
“I recognized from the start that your dice belonged to the Young Boy King Endymion. I simply chose not to mention it then, as I harbored some suspicion of you. But now, what does it matter? The dice contain the power of formidable illusory magic. Once you learn to wield it, it becomes a remarkable treasure.”
“The Young Boy King?”
“The ancient king of Ganapoli. His reign ended while he was still a boy, which is why history records him as the Young Boy King. He died around your age, so one cannot claim he was a wise ruler, but kings are by nature the greatest mages of their realm. In life, he crafted several whimsical magical toys, and the dice you possess was kept in the palace of Ganapoli. Someone likely carried it away on the day of calamity. It has circled back through time and returned to Arcadia in this manner.”
Boris nearly told him that he had met Endymion directly, but swallowed the words instead. He could not fathom how to reconcile the fact that Endymion was a king to Epibiono, yet a friend to himself.
“When you return, do as I instructed—seek a mirror near the Southeastern Square identical to the one in Clazyanya. Before it, think of where you must go. Even without me, that much should not be difficult. Travel carefully then. Ah, what do people say nowadays in such circumstances? That’s right—bring me a souvenir when you return.”
“Wait, will we be able to meet again?”
His answer came far too simply.
“No.”
“No? Then how am I supposed to bring you a souvenir?”
Epibiono chuckled softly.
“Well, since I’ll miss you, let’s meet again in about a hundred years.”
“A hundred years? Don’t jest with me.”
“Once you’ve lived a thousand years, a hundred becomes nothing at all.”
“But I cannot possibly live that long, whether it be a hundred years or a thousand!”
He could say no more. Epibiono gave both their backs a gentle push. That light touch sent their bodies tumbling into the well as if it were inevitable.
Brilliant light surged from the depths of the well. Engulfed in its radiance, even Nayatrey’s form beside him vanished from sight. Epibiono’s final words echoed faintly against the well’s walls.
Depending on your choice, it may yet be possible.
Brighter, more dazzling light continued before fading into absolute darkness that enveloped his body. It was a silent void where even the sensation of falling could not be felt.
Boris called out to Nayatrey.
“Nayatrey!”
No answer came.
He thought he had remained conscious for quite some time during the fall and darkness, but it was a delusion.
Suddenly, a chill ran down his spine, and Boris opened his eyes. How long had he been like this?
Looking around, a snowy plain stretched before him in the twilight—neither dawn nor dusk could be discerned.
The horizon glowed reddish, yet with no way to determine the cardinal directions, it remained unclear whether the sun was rising or setting.
Turning to look left and right, he saw the forest on his left curving away in a bow shape. Boris sprang to his feet, thinking that such an artificial forest boundary surely meant people dwelt nearby.
But only upon rising did he realize something. Boris gasped in alarm and cried out.
“Nayatrey! Where are you!”
There was no answer, not even a sound.
Looking around, only the spot where he had lain left an impression in the snow—there were no traces of footprints coming or going. The absurd thought crossed his mind that he had simply fallen from the sky.
He looked upward, but of course, no well entrance was visible. Only a vast sky streaked with strange light remained.
And it was bitterly cold.
“Hah…”
His breath misted visibly, his skin felt stiff and taut, and his bones ached from lying in the snow. Despite wrapping his cloak tightly around himself, his jaw trembled uncontrollably.
Boris had grown in lands of deep winter and had weathered even the notorious winters of Lemme with ease, yet he had never experienced cold like this. His hands, which had been buried in snow while he lay unconscious, were already turning blue with frost.
Shortly after, a pale moon hung above the forest. Its shape resembled what Boris remembered.
Boris speculated that this place, though unfamiliar, might be somewhere on a continent he had never visited. Yet only the intense coloration of the sky stretching overhead gave him pause in that judgment.
Though the moon hung in the sky, indicating night, the heavens were neither the black of darkness nor the blue of day—the horizon burned orange while the zenith blazed violet, creating an eerie, chaotic discord.
He had entered through an unfamiliar well, so the notion of being on some distant continent seemed foolish; still, with the gap in his memory, his thoughts kept drifting toward the conclusion that this was nowhere extraordinary.
In truth, Boris harbored his own fear. Though he had wandered countless strange lands since childhood, now he knew neither the direction from which he had come nor where to go—and his sole companion had vanished. To steady his mind, he needed something certain to hold onto.
He traced through his memories slowly. Epibiono’s final words surfaced first, followed by the warnings he had given, each one returning to consciousness in turn.
When the phrase “the first person you meet shall be your guide” echoed in his mind, he felt as though he had found one thing to lean upon. He had come to this place to meet someone.
Whether this was a world inhabited by people or by beasts, Boris had to find his guide and seek out the one who had first created the Winterer.
Gradually, his sense of reality returned. He steeled his resolve and straightened his stiffened body.
He began walking across the snowy plain. At first, he followed the edge of the felled forest, half-expecting some sign of habitation to appear.
Soon after, Boris stopped. His instincts, honed by years of travel, warned him that a threat was drawing near.

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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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