Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 249

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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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Episode 19.
Not All Children Are Angels (19)
In his last letter, Anistan had asked Theo what wedding gift he wanted. The reply came back: “There is something I truly wish for, but I’ll tell you when we meet.”
“Yes, there is.”
Theo smiled brightly over the rim of his teacup. Anistan grew uneasy from experience—Theo only wore such a luminous smile when he had some intention behind it.
“What is it?”
“An important matter I need your help with. Here, take this.”
Theo placed a yellowish envelope on the table.
“A letter?”
As Anistan reached for it, Theo shook his head and spoke.
“Not a letter. It’s a matter related to magic. I’d like you to review it and tell me what you think.”
The envelope was quite thick. Anistan began to open it but stopped when he saw Theo’s expression, then asked slowly.
“Has something come up that requires magic?”
“Yes. And it’s something only you need to see—not anyone else.”
“Me?”
Anistan’s expression grew puzzled. Certainly his magical abilities were excellent, but his skills as a fresh graduate could hardly compare to those of experienced mages. It wasn’t a matter of insufficient funds either, so why? And that phrasing—that no one else should see it—meant “keep this secret,” didn’t it? But why would there be such a need?
Soon Anistan’s face darkened.
“Could it be…?”
Theo shook his head and chuckled softly.
“Don’t let your imagination run wild. Once you see the contents, you’ll understand. It might be simpler than you think. In any case, I trust you. If it’s something you can do, I know you’ll help. I’m not wrong about that, am I?”
Though an ominous premonition stirred within me, I had never refused a request from Theo when he spoke in such a tone—not as a child, not as an adult.
“Yes.”
Theo’s face finally brightened. Anistan found himself exhaling quietly. It was probably nothing significant anyway. He didn’t possess the skill for anything truly momentous, and Theo knew that too.
Afterward, the two discussed the wedding. Yet Anistan’s attention remained fixed on that envelope throughout. Even as he told himself it was nothing, each time his mind returned to it, a chill crept through his chest.
Belvedere, where I had grown up, harbored a secret. It was the reason the village thrived in isolation and why so many of its people possessed magical aptitude. Years ago, I had shared this with Theo. I had felt obligated to be honest with him, given that he was my patron.
But I had revealed it to no one else—not even to the professors at Nenyafel. It was a secret of such magnitude. Yet in this moment, it rose up my spine like formless mist.
What if Theo, thinking of that very secret, had broached this matter with me?
Soon Theo offered to show me to my room and led me out. After walking a few steps, he stopped.
“Everyone must have gone to the first floor for party preparations. Perfect timing. Come this way for a moment. There’s something I want to show you.”
Following him eastward through the second-floor hall, a broad gallery corridor connecting two towers came into view. Lamps burned despite the daylight, for the passage had no windows, and portraits hung in orderly rows along its length.
“Look at this painting.”
Anistan stepped before the portrait Theo indicated. It was a half-length portrait of a man who appeared to be in his mid-thirties. What struck me was his hair, tinged silver-gray despite his youth. Dark eyes with deep shadows, cheekbones nearly absent, a slightly long jaw—he had a lively impression. Anistan spoke suddenly.
“It’s a remarkably vivid portrait. Doesn’t look like an old painting at all.”
“Never mind that. Do you know who this is?”
The painting hung at the head of the gallery. Anistan nodded.
“The first Duke Arnim.”
“Yes. Icabon von Arnim. The first duke of this house and the first Demonic.”
“Ah.”
Anistan fell silent for a moment. The man in the portrait possessed fine, distinct eyebrows of aesthetic grace. His eyes, not large, were deep and gleaming. Though his expression was gentle, the distinctly upturned corners of his eyes made him appear both clever and exacting.
I had heard of House of Arnim’s Demonic from Theo. Perhaps because I now knew who he was, I thought he truly looked like a Demonic ought to—a genius to whom demons granted boundless ability in exchange for their cursed fate.
The geometry book that Demonic Icabon had written was also housed in the Nenyafel Magic School. That book was remarkably easy—so strangely simple that newly admitted students read it as a reference work early in their studies. Only later did I realize that the ability to explain such difficult geometry so beautifully was not granted to ordinary people. The equations within it were like poetry itself.
Theo’s voice reached me, and I awakened from my reverie.
“Yes, this one was certainly excellent. Well then, let’s go over there, ahead.”
Theo passed by five or six paintings and stopped again before another portrait. I asked first.
“Who is this person?”
“Galifer von Arnim, a Demonic who appeared again only four generations after Icabon.”
I spoke with some surprise.
“The gap to the next generation is longer than I thought. But Galifer von Arnim—isn’t he the one who rushed into pioneering the Land of Mortals?”
“Yes, that madman. He never came back in the end.”
Theo threw out the words with a sardonic edge, then passed by several more paintings and moved to a new portrait.
“Now, this is Geoffrey von Arnim. You probably don’t know of him, but he wrote a book on harmonics and crafted a ten-stringed lyre. Yet this one eventually went mad. Not merely committed foolish acts, but truly lost his mind and never recovered his sanity until death. There’s even talk of removing this painting.”
….
Theo found the next portrait and approached it.
“It’s because of this person that we can’t remove the portrait of Demonic Geoffrey. Demonic Arabella. This woman suffered seizures at fifteen and oscillated between madness and sanity on roughly a three-year cycle. What she accomplished was magnificent. Half of the paintings here were created by this woman. Her other works are mostly in the Old Royal Palace. If we remove the portrait ahead, shouldn’t we remove this one too? But isn’t she too beautiful to take down?”
Passing by a few more in that manner, we reached the far end of the Gallery Corridor. More precisely, it was the third portrait from the end. But unlike all the others, this one depicted a young boy who appeared to be no more than ten years old.
“Demonic Hispanie.”
I could not tear my eyes from that painting for a long while. The House of Arnim had many dark-haired members, but this child alone was an exception—a possessor of golden hair. With locks of gold tied back and eyes of brilliant blue, a face like white wax and delicate lips. He was brighter, far brighter, than any painting I had ever seen.
“He’s quite beautiful. Ah, is this the boy who will become your brother-in-law?”
A cold smile played at the corners of Theo’s mouth.
“No. That one is still too young to have a portrait hung here. And he also has the tedious black hair of House of Arnim tradition.”
“Then how old is this person?”
“If he were alive, he’d be around sixty by now.”
“What?”
That sounded like a poorly crafted lie. How could such a child grow old and become sixty years old?
Theo laughed as though he had peered into my very thoughts.
“But it’s the truth. I wondered why a portrait from childhood was hung here, but apparently he burned all the others when he left home young. He must have had a very difficult temperament. In any case, there’s been no contact now. Since he’s a Demonic, he may have died long ago. But don’t you find it amusing? The pathetic ends of those who claim to have been born with talents granted by demons.”
I nodded and looked at Theo. The question I had anticipated flowed from his lips.
“Why do you think I showed you this?”
I hesitated slightly before answering.
“To tell me that the one who will become your brother-in-law will likely share no different a fate than these?”
Theo smiled faintly. In this place filled with paintings, it was a smile that seemed to become part of the art itself.
“There aren’t as many Demonics in the family as you’d think, are there? They all died young. The average lifespan is only fifteen years. Isn’t it said that fruit that ripens too early mostly falls to the ground?”
I offered no reply. I simply looked at Theo with a touch of pity as he spoke.
Yet when I left the Gallery Corridor, I truly saw the person I had thought I glimpsed. Light footsteps sounded, and a small boy appeared between the stair railings. He soon climbed up and stood at the top of the staircase.
The child had black hair and black eyes as Theo had said, but he did not appear dull at all. Rather, with a face as bright as the child in the painting and eyes that sparkled, I found myself marveling at the wonder of bloodline.
I had heard he was ten years old this year, but the child was so small and delicate that I would have believed him to be eight. He glanced at me, then looked toward Theo.
“Elder Brother Theo, do you have a friend?”
“Yes.”
Theo seemed reluctant, but at this point we had no choice but to introduce ourselves. I spoke gently.
“I’m Anistan Bölf. Your future brother-in-law often calls me ‘Ani.'”
Joshua smiled faintly. Anistan found it difficult to believe the expression was merely a courtesy.
“I’m Joshua. Would it be alright if I called you Elder Brother Ani as well?”
“Ah, of course.”
Up close, Joshua’s eyebrows bore a striking resemblance to those of the first Duke—the demonic Icabon.
He was the sort of child who inspired immediate sympathy upon first meeting, the kind one felt compelled to help. Yet appearance and essence were worlds apart, and knowing the suffering Theo had endured because of this child’s birth made it all the more difficult to extend genuine warmth. Still, after a moment’s hesitation, Anistan found himself speaking nonetheless.
“I’ve heard you’re remarkably clever. If I possessed talent like yours, I would want for nothing.”
The childlike smile vanished from Joshua’s face.
“If there exists a Creator who made people, then he is fair. I find no joy in anything I do. I lack passion.”
“….”
“Do visit again sometime.”
Joshua waved his hand and darted back into the Gallery Corridor from which they had just emerged. His light footsteps faded into the distance. Anistan found his gaze lingering, unable to look away, watching the boy’s receding figure until he disappeared from sight.
Theo, who had drawn near, spoke softly.
“Don’t be deceived by appearances. That one was born as the greatest obstacle in my life.”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Month’s Books
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Month’s Books.
To reuse all or part of this book’s contents, written consent from both parties is required.

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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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