Renaissance of Muses for the Maestro Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

Artem: I was originally a portrait artist. I’d paint portraits of tourists, but it was only enough to put food on the table for the day. 

‘Cept one day, a miracle happened. There was someone who bought my art for a high price, calling it splendid work. 

And to his surprise, that person introduced himself as the museum curator, the owner of the one and only museum in the land that carries the famous Pict’s artworks. 

The curator would often invite Artem over to the gallery after hours in secret.

Artem: All ‘cuz he knew I was a fan of Pict’s artwork too. I’ve learned a great deal from the artworks at this gallery.

So when the Great Calamity wrecked town and Pict’s artworks, I was devastated. 

He put his hand to his heart, and I could hear him whisper the word ‘But’...

Artem: I started thinking of ideas to help the curator. I wanted to be there for the only person who’s ever appreciated my art. 

…So I thought about restoring Pict’s art, and told the curator ‘bout it. 

“Painted by the Undead!” was a headline sure to catch enough eyes and bring life to the museum again.

Using the people’s curiosity for the unknown, even one person could gather many customers, he figured. 

Riquet: So it was you who made the plan to lie to others…

Artem nodded at his words, drooping his head low and resting it on the wall.

Artem: Never thought it’d blow up, spread out to the entire country. Everyone in town honestly believed it was Pict who painted those works.

Knew I’d be found out eventually, though. ‘Cept at some point, I began feeling overconfident. 

Kept saying to myself, “You’re still good.”, “No one’s gonna find out.”, ‘n such.

Then when I went 'n bought some art supplies and hit the diner for a meal on my way back, I saw you folks unraveling the truth right next to me. 

I think back to the moment at the diner where we discussed whether those paintings of Pict’s were forgeries or not.

Artem: Hearing that, the only thing that went through my mind was to run away. Didn’t know what else to do.

As he finished his sentence, we heard the sound of footsteps running up the stairs. Someone was coming straight to this room. 

Curator: W-What is that mess back there! Why, is the door…?

The silvers in the museum curator’s hair were ruffled, and he was gasping for air. Seeing the broken door he must have realized what was going on and ran up in a hurry. 

Mithra: I broke it.

Snow: Apologies for the blunder. We’ll fix it for you later…

Curator: T-That’s not the point! Why are there outsiders here?!

Artem: …Sir, I told these people everything. About Pict…all of it.

Curator: What…!?

Artem: I’m sorry for not asking you first. I just couldn’t go on with this.

And with that, a heavy silence fell over the room. The curator closed his eyes in thought, creating a crease between his eyebrows.

Curator: Is that so…

He took a deep, long, breath. Awash with fatigue the curator still found a way to bring his feet across the floor to Artem.

Curator: …I too was thinking it was time. Let’s put an end to this, Artem.

I was so lost in the desire to revive the museum that I took your kindness for granted,

and as a result you were trapped in this room and made to suffer alone…I am so deeply sorry, my friend. 

The museum curator and Artem together learned the feelings of guilt from displaying counterfeit works of art.

The story of a resurrected artist’s paintings spread so far and wide it eventually grew to a point where they could not bear to continue it any longer. 

And it was their feelings for each other that helped them bring it to a stop finally. 

Rustica: …

Akira: (I wish I knew what he was thinking about…)

As usual, his smile was ever bright. His will to be everkind and gentle could never be fathomed. 

All I could understand was how he held that small painting in his hands so carefully, the same way a parent bird would wrap feathers around their chick, with pure love and affection.

Heathcliff: …What will happen to the museum now...

He stood beside me as he muttered those few words.

Riquet: I believe that it is wrong to deceive others and tell lies…however…

Mitile: If Mister Artem’s art disappears from the museum, so will the visitors…

Akira: Y-Yeah…it probably wouldn’t stay the same…

The two young wizards frowned with worry.

Curator: Thank you for worrying about us. We’ll be okay.

I know I should have given up the moment Pict’s paintings burnt to cinders. 

Yet I couldn’t bring myself to let go…if only I had done that, we wouldn’t have had to deceive anyone, and I wouldn’t have had to cause Artem any suffering. 

Mithra: About those cinders, do you still have them? If so, bring them over. 

Curator: Huh?

Everyone was confused by Mithra’s sudden and bizarre comment. 

Curator: I do, but…what would you need them for?

Mithra: Chop chop and get to it. Or do you want to become cinders as well?

A little while after–the museum curator had returned, with a large basket in hand.

Inside was densely packed with black little bits.

Heathcliff: It’s Pict’s art…

Snow: They really are burnt to a crisp. 

Mithra: Hmmm. This is it, huh…

Arthim.

Rutile: Mithra?

Without any explanation, he chanted his spell on the spot, and a small tornado formed, stringing with it ashes and embers.

Floating in the air together the ashes spun into the shape of a canvas, its surface eroding to vibrant reds.

Curator: This can’t be…?!

It’s Pict’s “Man Embracing Seagull”…

I stared openmouthed at the canvas in front of me. It was just mere cinders a moment ago…

Rustica: Now this is truly the real Pict’s art. 

A joyful Rustica, a whirlpool of ashes swirling according to Mithra’s spell.

We all took in this sight, the miracle performing before us. 

Mitile: Amazing…this is amazing!

The ashes are transforming into art pieces…!

Like a rainbow bloomed over him after a rainy day, Mitile’s eyes sparkled, a wide smile on his face. 

Heathcliff: If we display these paintings in the gallery, the museum will get to keep its visitors. 

Riquet: This way, Artem and the museum curator won’t have to struggle anymore!

Akira: Yes! I didn’t think of using magic to return them to their former states…thank you so much, Mithra–

He snapped his fingers as I tried to thank him.

Two paintings appeared, the recently restored “Man Embracing Seagull”, and the artwork that he viewed earlier in the room–

Artem’s version of the “Man Embracing Seagull”. He lined them up side by side suspended in the air.

Mithra: …

He observed the two paintings in comparison, red hair and emerald eyes shining in the setting sunlight.

Mithra: Hey, aren’t these the same painting? What’s the difference between them?

Mithra continued restoring the burnt paintings of Pict’s and comparing them to Artem’s recreations. 

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