Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 69

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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 69.
Island of the Survivors (11)

That afternoon, the Boy Who Knows Not Himself wandered through the Unnamed Village with Oizis the ground squirrel. Eventually, they arrived before the Town Hall—a square building at the village’s center.
Over the course of half a day, I had heard various stories from Oizis about the island. Most notably, about the matter of carrying swords.
On the island, it was strictly forbidden to possess weapons, including swords, before reaching fifteen years of age.
Fifteen was also the age when one underwent the first purification ceremony, and it was the age when all children on the island graduated from Skoli, which they attended from age eight.
Children who graduated from Skoli had to determine their vocation, and among these vocations was the Path of the Sword—becoming a warrior who protected the island.
Only those children who chose that path earned the right to carry a sword, and the rest could not possess weapons unless the Priest of the Sword granted special permission.
Therefore, being discovered carrying a sword by other children could become a serious problem.
However, the Boy Who Knows Not Himself decided not to worry about it. There was no need to deliberate. For any reason, I could not abandon Winterer. Even if I hadn’t been discovered now, it would have become a problem eventually.
Beyond that, Oizis told me various things about the island’s customs, its system of governance, and the roles of the priests. He seemed delighted to share such knowledge, so the Boy Who Knows Not Himself simply let him continue without interruption.
Among Oizis’s stories, some were useful, but others—which held little interest for me—kept repeating. In particular, the stories about the island’s ruler were like this.
Above the six priests on the island stood the highest person—someone who could be called a king—yet he was never to be called a king.
According to Oizis’s explanation, the island’s people were descendants of those who had migrated from a great distant nation in the remote past, and that nation had encountered calamity and perished.
When that nation fell, the people escaped aboard several ships. The Pilgrims on the island were descendants of those who had boarded just one of these vessels.
The other ships either sank during the voyage or scattered to unknown places, and aboard one of those ships rode the king.
Or rather, perhaps someone with the qualifications to become king. In any case, whether alive or dead, he was the king. The ruler of this place was merely a regent.
“That’s why, as I mentioned before, we must call him ‘His Majesty the Regent.’ When the time comes for ceremonies, he stands before the people and reports to the absent king all that has transpired, declaring his intention to follow the king’s will. But since the king is not present, he cannot answer, can he? So even without a response, we treat it as if we’ve been heard and simply proceed. However, should the king have passed away, he might appear as a spirit and look upon us with favor. In any case, we are the king’s subjects, so…”
Oizis was a child with great interest in old tales, but unlike Lanji, who loved history, he could neither organize his thoughts clearly nor tell stories in an engaging manner.
So the narrative kept circling round and round, returning to where it started. The Boy Who Knows Not Himself listened to this tale, now repeated for the third time, with patient forbearance and merely smiled.
Oizis was innocent and immature, but that was no fault of his. Not all children needed to grow up prematurely through experiences like mine. There would be plenty of time to become an adult ahead.
With such thoughts, the Boy Who Knows Not Himself suddenly asked a question.
“But if it was such a distant time in the past, the king from then couldn’t possibly still be alive, could he?”
At this, Oizis’s face suddenly flushed red.
“No, that’s not it. The king is a sorcerer! An extraordinarily skilled one at that. So he might live for an incredibly long time. Um, if he had arrived at some other land, then when it came time to return, he would have passed the throne to someone else. Then there would be a next king, and another after him…”
“Hey, ground squirrel! What are you muttering about so incoherently?”
The two boys sat on the steps before the Town Hall, one absorbed in storytelling and the other in thought, so neither noticed the approach of others.
When they came to their senses, more than ten boys surrounded them. Oizis was already frightened and stammered his words.
“W-what… is…this?”
“We’ve got no business with you, so don’t be scared, you fool.”
Beyond the circle of boys stood a single boy at some distance. Obscured by the others, he was difficult to see clearly, but his tall stature and red hair were visible. So too was his sharply defined face.
That boy stood with his arms crossed, observing them intently.
“Get up. Stand up. We’re going to see the priests. Right now.”
One of them kicked the steps with his foot and spoke in a commanding tone.
Oizis immediately stood, hunching his shoulders. But the Boy Who Knows Not Himself remained seated, merely lifting his head to look up at him.
“State your business.”
“Hmph, don’t you understand? Only the Moon Queen and the priests know what will become of you now. I don’t know for certain, but it probably won’t end simply, will it? Don’t waste time—get up quickly!”
The talkative boy, who spoke with unusual irritation, wore a T-shaped tunic that hung down to his ankles over his gaunt, thin frame. The tunic was so loose it looked like a scarecrow draped in cloth.
The Boy Who Knows Not Himself regarded the boy for a moment, then slowly rose. However, he walked toward the Town Hall, ignoring them entirely.
The boy in the tunic cried out in alarm.
“Hey, where are you going!”
Oizis, caught in the middle, looked back and forth between them helplessly. But the Boy Who Knows Not Himself didn’t even glance behind as he entered the Town Hall.
One of the remaining boys mumbled before speaking.
“S-so should we go in too? We have to go inside to see the priests anyway, right?”
None of them felt particularly good about following after him. From the start, he seemed like an unpleasant person to deal with.
Before following him inside, the boy in the tunic suddenly grabbed Oizis by the shoulder.
“Why, why are you doing this, Ekion….”
Without answering, Ekion gestured with his eyes, and suddenly the boys rushed forward and kicked Oizis roughly. A boy behind him held his shoulder to keep him from falling.
The beating ended after one round. Ekion looked at Oizis with a strange smile on his thin lips, as if it were revenge for what happened this morning, and spoke.
“From now on, listen carefully to what I say and do exactly as I tell you. Understand?”
“What do you mean….”
Ekion pinched Oizis’s cheek hard and pulled. When a cry of pain burst out, he released his grip and spoke.
“If you don’t do as I say, I’ll beat you half to death.”

“Why must it be that way?”
A voice like a musical instrument rang out through the ceiling. Firmly. The person answering hesitated.
“It’s not that it must be that way… I just wish you would. It’s not a demand, but you understand your own situation, don’t you? And besides, it’s not a good sight to see a young person shut away alone in the mountains….”
“Where I live on the island is my own choice. I’ve caused no one any trouble, and I’ve faced no difficulties. I don’t understand why I should abandon my life and take on such a responsibility. I can’t accept what you’re saying either, Priest.”
“If one has talent, shouldn’t it be used for the sake of others? Such seclusion is good for neither the people nor yourself. Many years have already passed.”
“I have no special talent. I lack the experience to teach anyone. You tell me it’s time for me to serve the island, but why don’t you say the same to those far older than me?”
“You’re not a simple girl like the others, are you? Your abilities….”
“No. I’m merely a simple girl.”
“Isolet….”
The conversation was interrupted by someone entering.
Both turned their heads toward the sound. A boy had entered through the entrance, followed by many others.
The boy stopped in his tracks.
Golden light….
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows on either side, creating bright rectangles on the floor. The girl stood with one foot in that light. It was not an unfamiliar face.
Beneath golden eyebrows, a pale face, transparent eyes with a faint pink hue, a long neck, ears revealed in smooth curves….
She was the woman he had seen in the vision within the lake. He remembered her name. Though he had heard it only once.
Now instead of a long skirt, she wore trousers that reached her calves, giving an entirely different impression. But that was not all. Crossed over her shoulders were two short swords. Judging by their polished hilts, they were no mere decoration.
Delicate, suspicious eyes fixed upon him. She seemed about to say, ‘Why are you staring at me like that?’
If she were to say that….
“What is the matter?”
The unfamiliar priest spoke. The boy found himself unconsciously examining what special object this person possessed. One thing became apparent immediately.
A wide belt was fastened at the waist, from which hung an ornate box. It was sized to fit a single fist when opened, decorated with fragments of red and yellow gemstones.
“Ah, how fortunate that you’re here, Priest of Gwe!”
Lanky Ekion opened his mouth with a fluency quite different from before.
He stepped ahead of the boy, his lips moving awkwardly as he pointed with exaggerated gestures to the Boy Who Knows Not Himself.
“That child has violated the laws of this Island. And it was a most serious transgression at that.”
With that, he spun around smoothly, casting a sidelong glance at Isolet. He was gauging her reaction.
“Surely such a grave offense warrants severe punishment. This matter falls under your purview, does it not, Priest?”
“Do you truly believe I would forget my duties unless you reminded me?”
Ekion flinched at the unexpected rebuke, but quickly bowed and sought to appease.
“I would never presume such a thing, Priest. If I have offended you, I humbly beg your forgiveness.”
At that moment, a new presence appeared near the entrance. Several adults filed in and took their place behind the boys.
Among them was the girl in the yellow skirt who had been conversing with Nauplion—Liriope.
Liriope hesitated at first, uncertain whether she should be there, and glanced about nervously. Then she drifted away from the adults toward a tall window, feigning interest in something outside.
Of course, there was nothing to see. She had simply repositioned herself for a better view of one particular person.
Satisfied that her presence would not draw objection, she leaned against the windowsill and observed the unfolding scene. No one seemed to pay special attention to the girl’s movements.
Well, almost no one.
There was the red-haired boy who had been standing apart from the beginning, watching the situation unfold in silence.
Until moments ago, his gaze had been fixed solely on the Boy Who Knows Not Himself. Now his eyes followed Liriope’s movements—his body remained rigid and motionless, only his pupils shifting.
The Priest of Gwe’s displeasure remained evident.
“State your business.”
Ekion lifted his head, his eyes gleaming.
“That child carried a sword and wandered throughout the Island without anyone’s permission! Moreover, he used it to threaten us! We were….”
Behind Ekion stood the boys who had taken several blows that morning. They stepped forward one by one, denouncing the Boy Who Knows Not Himself.
“He drew his sword and threatened us! He said he would kill us if we didn’t obey! If we hadn’t managed to flee, he might have actually run us through!”
“And then he beat us like this! I’m covered in bruises! Our fathers were furious when they heard what happened, and….”
“That child completely disregarded the laws of this Island and deserves severe punishment! It’s infuriating—we were following the law and still got beaten!”
Ekion gazed at the Priest of Gwe with a satisfied smile playing at his lips.

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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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