Renaissance of Muses for the Maestro Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

It seems that all Mithra wanted was to compare the forgeries of Artem and the original Pict’s art. 

I could only think of how like him that was.

And thanks to him, Pict’s artwork really did come back to life. 

Rustica: Wonderful…

I never thought I would view two genius’ works at the same time in this sort of way.

You really are amazing, Mithra!

Mithra: Yes, I am.

Artem: …I’m so stupid.

How’d I think I could pull this off? Just seeing the original you could tell straight away. I’m nothing like Pict, in technique and 'n talent. 

He dropped his shoulders, and Rustica shook his head slowly. 

Rustica: Why is it that you must compare yourself to Pict’s art?

You cannot recreate his art perfectly, because you will never be him.

Artem: Huh?!

Rustica: Likewise, Pict will never be you. Even if you two share the same techniques, you could never draw the same picture. 

I love Pict’s art, as I love your art, Artem.

Curator: …Couldn’t have said it better myself. I love their works both. 

The weariness of the curator had rekindled into vigor, eyes holding a lively shine to them. 

Curator: I want to spread their works to the world, so that more people will know of their art.

That will be my atonement and my mission, one I will dedicate my life to doing.

Rustica: Thank you, Sir. I see we are both connoisseurs of the arts. 

…Actually, since we are so in sync, might you be my wife?

Curator: Bwuh?

Akira: (Crap, I let my guard down!)

Snow: This is bad, we got to stop him!

Chloe: No Rustica, put the birdcage down!

Rustica: We finally meet, my dearly beloved. Now, into your birdcage…

Curator: W-Waaaaaugh!

Thus, our small little venture and the mystery behind the revival of Pict’s paintings came to a close with the scream of the museum curator.

Days later, we decided to go to West Country and visit the art museum again. 

We had received an invitation from the curator himself, informing us that he had changed the paintings on display, and that he would love for us to see it. 

Mithra: I want to eat that thing again, the crispy sizzler thingamajig.

Mitile: Huh? We just ate at home, and you want to eat again?

Rustica: Let’s go out for an early lunch once we’ve finished our business here. Although, it’s as busy as ever, isn’t it. 

Mitile: Oh, Rutile and Riquet went to go and greet Artem and the museum curator for us!

Akira: It’s a shame we couldn’t come with everyone. As representatives of the Magic Manor, let’s do a round of the gallery!

Mitile: Yes!

Akira: (Still, I’m surprised that Mithra agreed to come again…)

Mithra: What is it?

Akira: U-Uhm, it’s nothing!

(Did he actually foster an interest in the arts? Or is he looking to eat the ‘Crissizzle’ thing…)

Lady: Hey, is it true that those paintings of Pict’s were fakes?

Man: They supposedly were, done by a young artist named Artem. 

Lady: I can’t believe it, they really tried to pull the rug from under us!

Mitile: …So the museum curator revealed the truth to everyone…about Mister Artem’s forgeries. 

Rustica: …

The invitation the curator sent us also had a letter enclosed within.

In that letter, he told us that he had made an official announcement about who Artem was, and that he decided to display both his recreations and the original Pict’s artworks together. 

Akira: (At the time of the announcement, he apparently received a lot of backlash…)

Visitors decreased to the gallery, and unease filled their spot for a time. Until, signs of a silver lining began to show. 

The reason for that was not because of Pict’s artwork, but because of Artem’s.

Elderly Woman: You must be pulling my leg! They're like peas in a pod!

Elderly Man: That’s some skill he’s got if he can mimic to that extent. If anything, this old timer’s impressed!

Though at first he was criticized, what followed afterwards was an audience enchanted by his works, a genuine group of fans.

Artem: Oy, you’ve come!

Mitile: Mister Artem!

A face we knew popped out from the crowd of people. He ran to us, hand waving.

Rustica: Lovely to see that business is booming. I’m happy you invited us, Artem. Thank you kindly. 

Artem: What’re you saying? I’m the one who should be thanking you!

You folks put a fullstop to our wrongdoings 'n the end. 

It’s thanks to you that I’m able to draw my own art again, and hold some pride to my name!

The Sir is as busy as ever though, so let me say it in his stead. We’re grateful, truly. To all of you. 

He looked over at the museum curator, who was just like last time, surrounded by a crowd of people. 

Except instead of looking sorrowful, he had a satisfied expression on his face. I could tell that he was fulfilled, being surrounded by paintings that he loved. 

Mitile: Master Sage, this painting…

Akira: Isn’t this…?

Mitile pointed to a massively sized painting. 

It was a painting of human figures, each and every one of them with varying heights, hair colour, and age. 

Mitile: …Doesn’t this red haired person look like Mister Mithra?

Akira: Definitely looks like him to me. And…this little boy resembles Snow.

Artem: Aah, that’s you guys.

The Sage 'n their wizards. First painting I’ve ever drawn and signed my name on, right after the forgery announcement.

Akira: This is…us.

I stepped closer, and examined the painting. “One of a Kind Existence” was the title this painting bore. 

Mithra: …”One of a Kind Existence”? That’s a one too many in the painting to match with the title. 

Mitile: I think it means that each and every one of us is unique and irreplaceable. 

You know, like how Mister Artem and Pict are!

Mithra: I don’t get it. He should have named it “The Strongest Northern Wizard and Co.” or something. 

Rustica: Hmhm, that’s an interesting title too. Art is dependent on the viewer to give it meaning, which is what makes it so fun. 

I know this painting will live on for many decades and many centuries. …I delight in wondering what interpretations will be made then. 

Rustica gazed at the painting with endearment. It was as if he was looking into the far future,

as if he was watching over a seed of hope that would bloom at the far edge of eternity. 

That is what his sweet smile told me. 

END

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