Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 220

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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 220.
Choose the Dawn (32)
Isolet fell silent for a moment. Her tightly pressed lips trembled faintly.
“I never once thought that Nauplion Priest would have abandoned Father to save only himself. And yet I spoke to you as though he would have. It must have been because my hatred had grown so vast. I harbored resentment simply because he survived. It was only because I was desperately, maddeningly desperate for the dead to return.”
Boris tilted his head back. His eyes turned toward the ceiling, yet his tears would not cease.
“But time, and sometimes other things, destroy unjust anger. Now I have become the debtor. I owe him a debt of life, and I owe you as well.”
“….”
Isolet tilted her head back and exhaled a breath tinged with regret. Her pink eyes wavered.
“Unable to find a way to repay it, I made a vow and left the Island. To find the Red Heart of healing by any means before this year ends. Of course, Nauplion Priest said it was a futile endeavor and told me not to trouble myself. Rather, he smiled and said he would let me go if it meant I would meet you and return. When I insisted on going, the Priest extracted a vow from me. If something sorrowful were to happen….”
Isolet’s voice began to tremble entirely. The composure she had maintained by force until now was crumbling all at once.
“He made me swear to succeed him. That position which should have returned to me after Father passed away—he made me swear to reclaim it now. That weathered face of his…. You could never imagine it….”
Tears that had been held back burst forth, and both hands covered her face. Though Isolet seemed like one who would never cry under any circumstance, tears flowed ceaselessly between her fingers.
The voice of the young Nauplion that I had heard in the Forest of Hearts struck my ears.
‘I do not wish to see Isolet’s tears…. Truly, more than anything else in this world, I do not wish to see them!’
“Please… let me return.”
When Isolet did not answer, Boris spoke again with force.
“If you would only let me go back and remain by his side until the very end… truly, after that I do not care what becomes of me. Like those children who fell from the cliff… you may kill me if you wish. Please, take me with you. I cannot remain here like this. If I stay like this, I fear I might hang myself in this very place.”
“Do you think Nauplion Priest would want that?”
From Isolet’s bowed lips came a hoarse, rough voice.
“He desires your happiness more than anything in this world. You would die? Your life is not yours alone to throw away so carelessly. Never speak of death again.”
“Is there truly no way for me to return as a Pilgrim? Is there truly no way at all?”
Then Isolet lifted her head and spoke softly.
“What if you became betrothed to Liriope?”
Boris stared down at Isolet as though frozen.
“…Please, do not jest with me now.”
“It is no jest. That girl has been languishing since you departed. Even after she recovered, she is not the girl she was before. She has become a great concern for The Regent. If you return and her health improves, there might be some possibility of forgiveness.”
“….”
How absurd a dilemma it was. It seemed as though it had been deliberately constructed to mock the three of them.
No matter how many times the cycle turned and returned to its origin, which link must be broken? In the end, I despised myself like a criminal for being unable to sever any link at all.
Even in this moment, even as I spoke my true heart just now, my hesitation and inability to answer stemmed from the fact that the box of this dilemma in which I was trapped was far too solid, and I could see no hole through which to escape.
Heavy silence fell, and the remaining tea grew cold and bitter.
The grandfather clock chimed twelve. Strange though it was, suddenly that sound alone made all my thoughts crystalline clear.
Why Isolet had come here, why I could make no choice—both became as visible as dolls inside glass. And with that, I realized there remained something I could still do.
Was there not one last thing remaining? Surely… there was.
“It might have been better had I not come here. But I thought I could not say nothing to you. Though he certainly did not wish it known, it would be the same as not telling a son of his father’s…affairs.”
It was something she could say only because she had experienced Father’s death. Even she could not easily speak such a word as ‘death’ aloud.
Boris was the same. It was a word that felt utterly unreal when spoken of Nauplion.
“Or perhaps, even in such circumstances, I came for a reason other than that.”
Those words startled Boris. Isolet kept her head bowed, and her expression remained hidden.
“I should go now.”
Boris hesitated for a moment—should he tell Isolet about the decision he had made?
Yet the moment he considered speaking, the thought that Isolet herself would be drawn into danger crystallized his resolve into absolute silence. This was something he had to resolve alone.
The two of them emerged into the night air together. It was late, and Lucian appeared to have already fallen asleep. They parted ways at the entrance to Jineman Manor with only the briefest of farewells.
He suppressed every word he had longed to say to Isolet for so long. He could not speak now. Watching her receding figure filled him with an almost maddening ache, yet he endured it with the certainty that if he succeeded in what he had resolved to do, they would meet again.
If he failed, then he must say nothing at all in this moment.
The day when he would cease to be a child fleeing blindly through nightmares.
When that day came, he would be able to speak of everything.

In early August, when the wind blew fierce and constant, Boris brought his four-month stay to an end. It was only two days after Isolet had come and departed.
Lucian said nothing. He did not try to stop him or ask why.
When Boris told Kaltz that he would meet with him to resolve a grave matter from his past and then return, Lucian stood beside him. Demerin Kaltz, glancing once at Lucian’s expression, gave his permission without further word.
Early on the morning of his departure, Boris saw Lucian waiting, leaning against one of the pillars at the entrance to Jineman Manor.
Dressed simply as a traveler, just as he had arrived, with two swords and a black cloak, Boris approached Lucian.
The wind caught the hem of his cloak, billowing it. The countless trees in the garden of Kaltz Estate shed their leaves in unison. The wind that swept the fallen leaves and caressed the grass soon swelled the white fabric of Lucian’s garments.
“You know, when you first came here.”
Lucian, who had been leaning against the pillar with one knee bent, rubbing his shoe marks into the stone, opened his mouth as Boris drew near.
“You were different from me in many ways, but the more I looked at you, the more I thought—this fellow has lived such a dull life that I absolutely must teach him something interesting.”
Boris stopped before Lucian and let out an incredulous smile, murmuring softly.
“Is that what you call a sense of duty?”
Lucian shook his head and suddenly spoke in a loud voice.
“You really were a strange one! The reason I’ve never had close friends until now is because I tire of things easily. I tire of everything. That’s why I always end up losing friends. But you were so different from me. When I see you living in a world I know nothing about, my feelings become strange. A world I can’t even imagine, can’t experience. You were the only one who would knock me unconscious just to break my stubbornness. You’re the kind of person where no matter how much I learn about you, I feel like I’ll never know everything. And that’s why I could never tire of you, right?”
Lucian rolled his eyes, searching for words, then spoke.
“No matter how much I come to know you, I’ll never know it all. That’s why I could never get tired of you, could I?”
A soft smile appeared on Boris’s face—one that seemed troubled yet gentle. Words that he would not normally speak so easily flowed from his lips.
“I liked you precisely because you were different from me.”
“So we had fun together, didn’t we?”
Lucian moved his closed lips to form a smile. His cheeks rounded childishly, giving him an innocent expression.
“Yes.”
The wind blew again. His long hair, which he usually kept tied back, fluttered freely for the first time in ages as he prepared for his journey. Lucian blinked several times as his short blonde hair stung his eyes in the wind. As he continued to do so, he suddenly spoke.
“Actually, I wanted to stop you from going.”
Boris looked up at the sky. The weather was perfect for traveling….
“I know there are many things about you that I don’t know. But this time, I don’t know why, but I have this feeling that it’s going to be really dangerous. I know I can’t stop you, but still, I keep thinking you won’t come back. I keep having that thought.”
“….”
After a moment, Boris stepped closer and placed his hand on Lucian’s shoulder, which trembled with suppressed emotion. Then he spoke.
“If I come back this time… I’ll go to school with you. I promise.”
“….”
This time, Lucian could say nothing in return. Boris nodded as if to confirm. He knew he was making a promise that would not be easy to keep. In truth, he believed the likelihood of his failure was far greater.
To go to school together, he would have to return alive.
“Then… is it a promise? A real promise?”
“Yes.”
Boris was not so naive as to be unaware that making a promise to return while risking—or perhaps throwing away—one’s life was a deception. Yet in this moment, even Boris spoke with sincerity.
He wondered if this promise might serve as a talisman, returning him alive. The thought brought a smile to his lips.
Either way, it mattered little. For the task that lay before him, he would return to the tunnel of his childhood. Whether fate’s favor granted him survival or denied it.
Boris withdrew his hand and stepped back, exiting through the entrance. A single horse stood waiting there—one Lucian had instructed the stable hands to prepare. It was the finest mount Lucian himself had ever ridden.
Boris mounted the horse and departed without looking back.
Mountains and fields blurred past.
As the horse galloped, Anomarad receded into the distance. With each stride, another land drew nearer. Closer and closer still, he raced toward the darkness to which he sought to return.
There was no time for delay. Before the end of August, Boris crossed the colonial territory of Tia and immediately crossed the Trabaches border. The identification papers that Lucian’s father had graciously provided proved invaluable.
After crossing the border, he set his course northeast. Five days more of riding, and just before August ended, he barely reached his first destination.
Ron, the capital of Trabaches.
This was not the land Boris ultimately sought. Yet before that, there was a place he absolutely had to visit.
The place he had resolved to go was the final battleground where he could not afford to fail. Before that, he had decided to meet with one person and close the chapter on the past. If not now, there might never be another opportunity.
It took half a day to locate that manor within Ron’s streets.
“Who are you?”
The middle-aged Gatekeeper looked Boris up and down, his frame covered in dust from the long journey, and asked with a suspicious tone.
Boris raised his right hand to his forehead, brushing back his disheveled hair. Gathering the sweat-dampened strands, he turned his face toward the Gatekeeper so he could see it clearly.
A moment later, doubt flickered in the Gatekeeper’s eyes.
“If you have eyes at all, you cannot doubt that I am the master’s nephew.”
Boris had grown up confirming through his own face the old stories the Nanny used to tell—that the people of their household were born with similar features.
Though he had not realized it in childhood, Boris resembled Yefnen, and as he aged, he would come to resemble his father Rulken more, just as Rulken resembled his own brother Blado Jineman.
Only those unforgettable, reptilian pale eyes differed.
“Hmm… it does seem to match, but I’m afraid it will be difficult for you to meet the master. He has been away since recently, and it seems unlikely he will return anytime soon.”
It was then.

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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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