Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 208

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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 208.
Choose the Dawn (20)
As summer waned and the wheat harvest passed into memory, Bunin spoke to me one evening as we sat watching the stars together.
The Blacksmith’s Shop perched atop a modest hill, perfect for stargazing. Boris, true to habit, merely smiled.
“What happened in all that time? Did you enroll in some sword school in Anomarad? When I first saw you, you were such a tender child, but time has transformed you far too much.”
Bunin continued with a tone of wistful lament.
“Had I not known you from those days and only met you now, I could never have carried on as I have. In fact, when Tonya brought you here and said you were that same child, I wondered if you’d spent years working as a sailor somewhere.”
Coming by ship—a remarkably apt observation. It was hardly wrong to call all islanders sailors.
As Boris continued to smile in silence, Bunin grumbled with dissatisfaction.
“You’re so quiet. It wouldn’t hurt for a fifteen-year-old to talk more, make friends down in the village. How much longer until you turn sixteen?”
It seemed he’d suddenly remembered that only a few months remained in the year. Boris smiled faintly and replied.
“I’m already sixteen.”
“What? You rascal… So your birthday passed and you didn’t even mention it!”
As expected, a blow came swiftly. Though Bunin’s hands were rough as befitted a blacksmith, Boris found no displeasure in it. Rather, such gestures stirred memories of my time with Nauplion.
Bittersweet and nostalgic, Boris shook his head and changed the subject.
“When is your birthday, sir?”
“I don’t know. With no one to celebrate it, the memory has faded… I can barely recall it.”
Tonya had once told me that Bunin lost his wife and two children all at once to a plague that swept through Southern Trabaches long ago. Perhaps that emptiness drove him to seek solace in war.
“It seems you’ve endured hardship yourself during these years… haven’t you? The light in your eyes back then wasn’t that of a twelve-year-old child, and now they’re certainly not the eyes of a sixteen-year-old. But I won’t press you about it. If you’ve decided to shake it all off, then truly bury yourself in this countryside for a long time.”
“Yes. That’s my intention.”
I didn’t know how many years it would be. Sometimes I thought that if I could hide away like this forever, that too would be welcome.
It wasn’t that I wished to escape as before. Simply living each day simply and meaningfully seemed to purify my wounded heart somehow.
Sometimes I wondered what it would have been like had I never followed Count Belnoir from the start and instead become a blacksmith’s apprentice. Now it seemed that wouldn’t have been so bad.
The remaining months of the year slipped away swiftly. Passing through a brief autumn and a long winter, spring came—my first since leaving The Island.
I ventured to sea many times
yet left not a single coin behind.
Grew weary of salt-cured sweets
my youth now lean and hardened.
I wandered through unfamiliar ports without thought
to the tavern at the seaside corner as dusk fell.
Someone was playing a lyre.
Perhaps an old woman who’d lost her husband.
I entered with hollow eyes.
Without any hope at all…

From around April, Gwarre Castle grew vibrant with activity. The season had arrived when nearby villages took turns hosting the Spring Fair, the prelude to the spring festival.
Boris often visited Tonya’s Inn during its busiest hours to help with outside work, and on this day too, the sound of that man singing could be heard.
Before the radiant goddess, I lost my senses
And for the first time in my life, I stammered out my words.
Do you grieve? Does sorrow color your melody?
My hands are empty, bearing only half-carved fishbones,
Yet hear the tale of this wretched sailor.
The treasures of seven seas and gleaming gold coins,
Hear too of the octopus vast as a house.
Of course, it is all a lie,
But if it brings you comfort, I shall speak any words.
With no ulterior motive whatsoever….

Boris, moving firewood, turned his head away from the singing man’s view and smiled quietly. The man singing was a Young Peddler from some southern port, and for some reason, even after a month, he showed no intention of leaving the small castle of Gwarre, where there was little to trade.
Everyone who came and went from the inn, and even Boris himself, knew that the man sang all manner of songs every few days because he wished to capture Tonya’s attention.
The man was small in stature, sturdy, and quick in his movements. His sharp eyes and innocent smile gave a favorable impression. Moreover, he sang quite well.
Tonya feigned ignorance and pretended not to notice, yet it seemed she did not dislike the man. A few days ago, word had it that Bunin, curious about the situation, had even sounded out Tonya’s father, the innkeeper, and it appeared that a happy occasion would soon arrive.
“Ah, did you bring it?”
As Boris brought the split firewood to the kitchen, Tonya quickly accepted it while glancing toward the back. She was likely wondering if the man had left, since his singing had stopped.
When Boris smiled, Tonya, embarrassed at being caught, blushed and changed the subject.
“Did you hear? There’s supposed to be a grand auction when the Spring Fair opens in four days. Valuable antiques are included, and I heard many guests have come from Anomarad. Will you go see it?”
“The Blacksmith said we should go after finishing the day’s work at the shop.”
Ten months had passed since Boris became an apprentice at the Blacksmith’s Shop. The people of Gwarre who frequented Tonya’s Inn and Bunin’s shop mostly knew the quiet and diligent young apprentice.
“Oh, how fortunate. All the children your age look forward to the Spring Fair, but this time many have been waiting because of you.”
Tonya winked, but Boris, not catching the jest, responded matter-of-factly.
“Who would be waiting for me?”
“The girls who are losing their minds over you and your reserved manner, that’s who. At the Spring Fair, even the girls gather courage to approach a stone-faced boy like you.”
“Who is losing their mind over me?”
“More than you’d think. Oh, if those girls hover around you, try to give them all equal chances. The handsome apprentice of the Blacksmith’s Shop—when I see your long, glossy hair, even my heart goes pitter-patter.”
“…I know you’re just teasing.”
By that time, Boris’s hair had grown long enough to cover his back, and he wore it loosely tied with a cord.
Tonya, true to her nature as a cheerful young woman who had long worked at the inn, spoke with mischief and enjoyed teasing Boris. Had he been anyone else, he would have immediately counterattacked with stories about the young merchant hovering around Tonya, but Boris simply chose to leave the situation.
As he pushed open the door to the back, Tonya laughed behind him and called out.
“That’s why I told you before—if you don’t want to cause trouble, cut your hair shorter!”
Perhaps because of the Spring Fairs held in succession in nearby villages, there were many new guests today. Thinking he should help a bit more since the inn would be busy, Boris crossed the back courtyard toward the stable.
A man hurrying along the path suddenly stopped in surprise upon seeing Boris. Boris, unaware, entered the stable carrying an armful of hay.
The man changed direction and entered the inn. There, he caught hold of a servant just coming out and pointed toward Boris, asking several questions.
As the Spring Fair drew near the next day, guests multiplied. While helping with work that day, Boris even took his midday meal at the inn, and he did not return to the Blacksmith’s Shop until nearly three o’clock.
Carrying an armful of provisions that Tonya had prepared, he climbed the hill toward the shop and found an elegant carriage and several unfamiliar people standing before it.
The person who appeared to have business was, at a glance, a middle-aged woman in elaborate dress—clearly a wealthy lady. Bunin was nowhere to be seen, apparently having stepped away for a moment.
“Ah, so someone finally arrives. You must be the apprentice here? I have something that needs fixing, but where has the master gone?”
Boris judged that this woman was wealthy, but neither a lord nor nobility. Despite having servants behind her, she spoke to him naturally, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“The master stepped away for a moment. What is it you wish to have repaired?”
“I’m not sure if you can fix something like this. It’s rather small, you see…”
A servant emerged from behind carrying a box. When Boris accepted it, he found a precious necklace strung with roughly twenty black pearls the size of a thumbnail, nestled within a red box crafted to hold jewels.
Upon closer inspection, the clasp at the end of the necklace’s string had come loose, making it impossible to wear. This was the sort of work that should be taken to a jeweler, but in this remote place, it seemed she had been unable to find a suitable craftsman.
“I’m afraid I cannot give you an answer until the master returns. If you have time, perhaps you could wait a little longer?”
“Oh, that won’t do. I’ve already stolen away for a brief moment, and I’m already running late. Besides, I need the necklace tomorrow without fail. Rather than that, couldn’t you keep it and show it to the master, and if he cannot repair it, bring it back to me? I’ll pay you for the errand, of course.”
From her appearance, Boris guessed she had come from Anomarad, yet unlike the nobility there, she did not impose her circumstances upon him with stubborn insistence. After a moment’s thought, Boris accepted.
“Very well.”
The woman told him the name of the inn where she was staying and departed. But Bunin did not return even as evening fell.
Given how much time had passed, the woman would surely expect him to return it repaired. Though Boris considered going to search for Bunin, he felt uneasy leaving such a valuable item unattended in the shop. If it were lost, there would be no way to repay her.
By the time dinner had long passed, Boris concluded he had no choice but to return it himself. He thought he might stop by Tonya’s inn on the way to ask if she had seen Bunin.
As he descended the hill, a strange thought struck him. What had made that woman trust him with such a valuable item?
She was clearly a stranger to the place, yet the moment she arrived, she had asked, “You must be the apprentice here?” It was odd. He had lived in Gwale for ten months, keeping to himself as much as possible, yet how had this outsider known who Boris was?
If she hadn’t known who he was, how could she possibly have entrusted him with such a thing?
Bunin was not at Tonya’s inn. In the end, Boris had no choice but to go to the inn where the woman was staying.
The Saffron Gate Inn, the most expensive inn in Gwale, was also the place where Count Belnoir and Rosnis had once stayed. Looking up at the inn’s entrance, Boris felt a strange nostalgia wash over him.
“I’ve come on an errand for Lady Rolliani.”
The innkeeper sent a bellhop to confirm, and soon the boy returned downstairs to tell him to come up.
Following him up, Boris found that the room itself was the very one where Count Belnoir had brought his unconscious self all those months ago. It was a curious coincidence, he thought. Or perhaps it was simply because this was the finest room in the inn, and they were all wealthy guests.
The bellhop opened the door and entered first, and just as Boris stepped in behind him—
A sharp whistle cut through the air!
At the same instant the sound of a blade cleaving through space rang out, Boris’s hand had already drawn his sword. Though he had not wielded it against another person in ten months, his constant training had kept his reflexes sharp and alive.
He parried the sword descending directly at him with precision and thrust it back. Just as he was about to launch a counterattack, Boris sensed something strange and shifted his stance to defense.

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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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