성황의 아이들 [3]

403

403. Head Tower (1)

The climate of Delcross was relatively mild for an inland area. In particular, the clear autumn air, with its humidity greatly reduced, had a way of stimulating both a clear intellect and a full sense of emotion.

-You promise me a beautiful sky.

I whisper like a bird that I will give you a shining star.

But I am the only one in the world.

I want your soul like a jewel.

Crunchy.

A playwright who had been working all night, immersed in the emotions of autumn, lowered his quill as the sunlight seeping through the curtain grew stronger.

"If I write just a little more, chapter 1 will be completed. Okay... ... ."

Unfortunately, today's work seems to end here.

When I started to worry about the fact that I couldn't hold the quill equally with both hands, I thought my concentration for the day was already over.

"Hmm."

The playwright turned his back and neck around and quickly glanced over the content he had worked on so far.

'... It seems like it'll be fun, but since the doll is the main character, I wonder if it might be a little dangerous?'

[The Doll's Song], which she is currently working on, is Ortona's classic literature that deals with the events that occur when a beautiful doll created by a person comes to life. At the time, it was highly regarded for containing her reflection and criticism on human dignity and sense of subjectivity.

But here in Delcross, things were a little different. If done incorrectly, it could be seen as a heresy that challenges God's authority over the creation of life.

'It's not specifically a banned book, but I touched it, but it would be safer to go in the direction of teaching a lesson with a little bit of a sense of encouragement and punishment, right?'

The playwright thought for a moment and then shook his head.

Let everything happen. What's the problem? If it were his lover, even if a controversy arose, he would be able to immediately dismiss it.

"Then let's end it here for today."

She stretched out her arms and stretched greatly. It also happened to be the right time for her to finish her work.

smart.

Soon, with a small knock on the door, identical faces appeared as if they had been stamped out of a mold. These were her children, Herna and Kadesh.

"It's time to wake up, Joe."

"Come out and eat, Joe."

The playwright stood up with an unusually broad smile.

Yes, my lovely treasures!

* * *

Jocelyn Langster.

Transformer of tragedy, magician of conflict.

This young playwright, who is better known to the world as 'Master Sorbonne' rather than his real name, was a person who had the eccentricities that sensitive artists sometimes exhibit, which were especially noticeable compared to others.

First of all, she couldn't tolerate the 'twisting' of things well. In particular, she was particularly easily fatigued by 'unbeautiful' or 'asymmetrical' shapes. It was because my mind was constantly trying to correct everything I saw into an ideal form.