Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 434

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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 204.
An Angel’s Face and
The Blood Flowing Through a Demon’s Heart (13)
“…My sister stood alone at the cliff before the sea, keeping a steadfast watch over the horizon. But as the sun set completely, she saw nothing at all. So she thought to herself, perhaps it’s time to head home, and she stood up—when suddenly, something caught her eye. What could it have been? She opened her eyes wide and looked, and there it was: a ship with a black flag and pitch-black sails, cutting sharply across the very brow of the last remaining sun. It passed through that red sun with such incredible speed that it vanished from sight in an instant. It truly happened. And my sister was so terrified that she….”
“Ugh….”
Riche lowered her head and tried to cover her ears, but curiosity made her fingers pause. Neville continued triumphantly.
“One of her shoes fell into a crevice of the cliff, but she didn’t even think to retrieve it—she ran home like a madwoman. Later, when she came to her senses, her feet were covered in wounds. Anyway, the moment she arrived home, she rushed straight into the sick man’s room, and everyone started pointing their fingers, whispering….”
“Ugh, why are all the people on this island like this!”
Riche sprang to her feet and fled to the ship’s rail where she couldn’t hear the story. A seasoned sailor beside her chuckled and spoke.
“That young lady has some resolve, at least. There are plenty of people who keep saying they’re scared but stay to hear the whole thing.”
“This is already the third time she’s heard such a story—she might as well run away.”
“But it wasn’t us who suggested telling scary stories in the first place.”
“And it wasn’t the young lady either.”
With that, they glanced at Joshua. Joshua stopped his busy fingers and looked up.
“And then? Did the sick man die?”
Neville made a deflated gesture.
“Tch, if even one person who isn’t scared joins in, the story loses all its fun.”
“I’m scared too.”
“Come now, don’t lie.”
“With a face like that, how can you possibly be scared!”
“That’s strange. Why won’t you believe me?”
Joshua muttered to himself, then resumed completing his finger drawing. The sailors exchanged glances and spoke.
“Why don’t you tell one instead, Your Highness—or rather, Young Duke? Seeing how fearless you are, I have a feeling we’re about to hear something truly terrifying.”
Joshua twisted his lips into a peculiar smile.
“I know plenty of scary stories.”
“Oh, how exciting! Go ahead.”
The seasoned sailor tapped Neville on the back of his head.
“Hey, you fool. Do you even know who you’re urging?”
Neville still giggled.
“Hehe, of course I do. Take your time. Slowly, but quickly.”
After four days together, a familiarity had grown considerably. The sailors who had once kept their distance beyond a safe perimeter, intimidated by the name “Blessed Arnim” alone, could now speak with such ease. Of course, much of this was due to Joshua’s attitude. Since he had a true Duke as his father, he said he didn’t want to be a difficult or uncomfortable presence as the Young Duke. Those left behind in Periwinkle couldn’t be helped, but he wanted those who sailed with him to feel at ease. He said he didn’t want to return with only memories of authority.
Yet they could never truly be friends. The sailors swallowed familiar curses down their throats and asked and answered questions like obedient students, and Joshua maintained at least the minimum formality. As long as he was Joshua von Arnim and not merely the neighborhood boy Joshua, it could not and should not be otherwise.
Joshua knew this better than anyone, which is why he enjoyed himself aboard the ship all the more. For a brief time, he became the seaside boy born beneath the roof of Periwinkle, who had grown up hearing the legends of Icabon. He hoped that the few people who had sailed on this ship would remember those days with him as the Gatekeeper of the manor remembered the flower bracelet that Altena von Arnim had made—a few days of voyage that would stay with them forever.
“Once upon a time, there was a little child who loved to read books. But this child’s father was a brick maker, so there wasn’t a single book in their home. The Monastery in the village had many books, but they would never lend any to the child. So the child would sneak into the Archive during the day and hide in a corner cabinet. The plan was to wait until everyone left and night fell.”
Joshua’s manner of speaking was like a nanny gathering children to tell them a story, but the sailors showed no particular displeasure. Even if they were ten or twenty years older than him, their companion was still the “Blessed Arnim.”
“Finally, when the pitch-black night arrived, the child crawled out from the cabinet. The Archive, with not a single candle lit, was so dark that the child nearly tripped over their own feet.”
The appearance of darkness was unmistakably the beginning of a scary story. With the lamplight from behind illuminating only his hair, Joshua’s face had shadows cast across its sharp features, making him appear almost eerie.
“The child found a candlestick but had no way to light it. They didn’t have anything as precious as a match. So they decided they had to get outside somehow and crawled toward the entrance, feeling their way in the dark. Why crawl? Because walking on two feet would cause them to stumble and fall.”
Joshua chuckled to himself.
“So finally, the child reached the entrance, but alas! The door was locked from the outside. Well, it was only natural, but in any case, the child was now trapped in the empty Archive with no choice but to wait for morning. And forget about reading books. The child became truly frightened. The thought of being unable to escape made the dim bookshelves seem as though they might transform into monsters. Or perhaps they had already transformed.”
“So what happened?”
“Then suddenly!”
“Suddenly?”
“Someone appeared from behind me!”
“Hmm.”
“He tapped the little one on the shoulder and asked what he was doing there. The boy had his hand over his mouth, so he barely managed not to scream. And from the sound of his voice, he seemed to be about the same age as me, didn’t he?”
Joshua chuckled to himself once more.
“When he offered his hand, I felt a very cold hand grasp mine. Even though it was cold, it was a hand I could hold—so I realized he was still alive, and that helped me overcome my fear. The boy asked if I was trapped here too. And then…”
“And then?”
Joshua cleared his throat and mimicked the other boy’s response.
“No, this is my home.”
It was a thin voice, slightly hoarse. It sounded quite different from Joshua’s usual tone. The sailors exchanged surprised glances.
“Goodness, the Young Duke’s voice is giving me chills.”
“So the boy was a ghost?”
“It must have been the warehouse ghost. You know, the one that lives in the storage room where no one goes.”
“If it was the warehouse ghost, the little one would never have gotten out, would he? The warehouse ghost is terribly lonely—when someone enters, it locks the door and never lets them leave.”
Maximian glanced at Joshua with a dissatisfied expression and muttered something under his breath. It was inaudible.
“The boy found it hard to believe, but in such a dark and dreadful place, he didn’t want to argue about such matters. So instead of pressing the point, he asked, ‘Then all these books are yours too?’ The boy answered immediately that they were. And he asked the boy why he was there. The boy hesitated, then spoke honestly. He said he was hiding because he wanted to read the books. But it had become so dark he couldn’t see anything at all. So the boy chuckled and said to him…”
Joshua laughed again, as if mimicking the boy.
“Tell me what book. I know the contents of every book here. I’ll teach you.”
The sailors seemed quite stirred by Joshua’s changing voice. Only Joshua himself appeared to think he was still joking.
“The boy said Tesla Alba’s ‘Nocturnal Ritual.’ Then the invisible boy began to speak. Starting with the title, then the preface, word for word as it was written in the book. As they moved into the first chapter, he spoke faster and faster. As if he were reading from the book right in front of him.”
Maximian had begun to suspect something vaguely when the Monastery was mentioned. The Archive of the Monastery—always closed, never opened to children. Maximian knew of it too. Whenever he grew curious about a book, he would pester a friendly Monk to get it for him. But he thought Joshua’s story was merely set in that place, just a fabrication. Joshua was the sort who could spin tales on the spot like writing a play script.
But it wasn’t.
“The Nocturnal Ritual. Glory to the earth, truth to the night, labor to the golden dawn. I, the Pilgrim Tesla Alba, walking through the black alleys of Caledonia on the day of spirits, discovered a single open door. Upon the door were carved the eyes of a monkey and one who asks, and a golden bowl, marked with a cross in chalk. The Pilgrim passed through the door without hesitation. First appeared a kitchen, with four furnaces on either side, each bearing a cauldron—one green, one golden, one crimson, one azure. In the cupboard were large and small copper cooking pots polished to shine, and beneath them were sealed twelve bottles of different colors. Looking closely into the bottles, each contained a single poisoned insect of a different kind—truly a heathen custom. As I approached, the crimson cauldron suddenly boiled over, while the green cauldron fell silent as if its fire had gone out. I passed through the kitchen and down a narrow corridor, standing before a small parlor curtained with damask. From within came the sound of quiet whispering—it seemed to be a woman and her daughter.”
The sailors held their breath, only their eyes blinking. They were not unaware of what their Young Duke was capable of, yet their amazement was no less diminished. Joshua, who had been reciting as if in verse, paused appropriately and changed his tone once more.
“The boy listened to the youth’s voice as if entranced. Moving into the second chapter, advancing to the third, the boy never stumbled once. Soon the voice seemed no longer human. It was as if the book itself were speaking, or the Archive itself. Perhaps it was the ghost that dwelt in the Archive speaking. But the boy could ask nothing. If he opened his mouth, it might stop forever. So until dawn broke, the boy never spoke. By the time he had heard the entire contents of one book, the first light of dawn began to seep into the Archive.”
“When light enters, the ghost would flee.”
“So did he finally see what the ghost looked like?”
The people seemed to expect the ghost to have been merely a voice, or to have had a terrifying face in the light, or some such tale. Joshua chuckled one last time and answered.
“He saw the face.”
“What kind of ghost was it?”
“Not a ghost at all. Just a person. A boy. About the same age as the little one.”
“What?”
“Then how was that boy there?”
“He must have gone in before the little one did.”
“What about him saying it was his home?”
“He probably said that because he saw the little one was frightened and was bored.”
“Is that the end of the story?”
“Yes.”
Interrupting himself, Joshua glanced around at the gathered sailors. Their faces all bore expressions of deflated disappointment.
“What, you’re not frightened?”
“Then does the Young Duke find that story frightening?”
“I’m scared out of my mind.”
“What part of that story is frightening?”
Joshua raised the right corner of his mouth and tilted his head quizzically.
“It wasn’t a ghost at all. Just a person—and a child at that—who had completely memorized an entire book. That’s not ordinarily frightening, is it?”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Published by: 14 Months Publishing
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Months Publishing.
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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