-Mary’s POV- There was a voice inside my head and it was not my own. Because of my deep illogical fear of anything ghost-related, I wondered if playing dead was a good strategy against an already dead entity. Running away is impossible when the danger hides inside your head and thinking about facing the may-be-a-ghost-thing is just laughable. Yep, giving up is the only choice, after all. I wonder if after I die, would I become a ghost myself? I shivered before such dreadful thought, but something about these words seems weirdly important. I decided to not pay much attention to it, since the voice kept whispering with its somewhat mechanical tone. The small and still rational part of my brain noticed that from all the languages in my repertory, none of them matched those rhythmical, low tuned sounding words. As expected from a ghost, it must be some ancient and cursed language. For all I know, I would be dead as soon as it stopped talking. Hmm...? Dead? Am I not already...? Right, now that I think about it, wasn’t there a familiar sound, a sudden pain and then nothing? Does that mean... that I’m really... a gh- Since it was too terrifying, I ended up fainting. Or maybe I was just really tired. ~•~ It’s been twelve years since that horrible moment when I had to question my living being status. Well, although I actually did die, becoming a creepy ghost fitting to appear in those low-budget horror movies was just not my fate. Thanks our Holy Uncle Money for that. Since the worst outcome possible didn’t happen, I was happy with any other situation. Being reincarnated on my own game’s world was pleasantly acceptable, I guess. Although it’s not exactly the same... And that useless excuse of a writer is the one to blame... But it was still alright. After all, who wouldn’t rejoice when your creation lies before your eyes, full of colors and texture and details, details that, for how much I had tried to achieve (and shamelessly thought had succeeded) are just not possible to recreate in a virtual reality game? Oh, the child born from my effort and sleepless nights. Accardi, The World of Chaos and Glory. Settled in a fantasy-like environment, the game has everything a nerdy heart could wish for, and more. Back when I lived in my past life’s villa, I would spend hours programming my very own master piece. It was so well-received by the public, that a famous web novelist even negotiated for a partnership, where my world’s settings would become the stage for his next story. Web novelist, username Angel01. Listen well kids, that’s the name of a scammer. Don’t ever believe when someone offers you a good and fair deal. As mother always used to say, they are no good and fair deals. If it’s fair, it is not good enough for us. Take everything you can, fairness are for losers. Ahhh, the foolish me didn’t do as mother had said and look what happened. That damned Angel01 twisted this world as he liked, and as the bastard he is, he populated Accardi with illegitimate plots that this World’s Mother -aka me!- has never agreed! Disrespectful and outrageous, he broke the golden rule of any RPG-related game! Profaning Accardi’s most sacred territory with his ridiculous ‘innovating ideias’, he dared to actually target the one and only beginner’s village! Anger died my vision red, as I become lost inside my rage. The green pear in my hands was almost forgotten amidst those turbulent thoughts, and if not by the boy who sells fruits’ nervous gulp, I wouldn’t remember that I’m actually at our village’s market, doing the weekly groceries for my grandmother. Ahh, I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to scary you. My deepest apologies. Although they were my sincere thoughts, I couldn’t voice them, as I slowly put back the ripped pear on the wooden box and turned back. I sighed before my uselessness when it comes to communication. Sorry. It was so simple, so why am I not able to do that? And I even scared that simple and honest looking boy with my behavior. By the look in his eyes, he must have been frightened. Aya, I was actually already used to this kind of expression from my past life, but to imagine that even after gaining such a cute appearance I would still receive those fearful stares. Well, I guess that even if the shell is changed, the soul inside is the same. I continued doing the groceries in silence, as always. Every time I tried to start a conversation, something inside my brain would freeze completely, and in the best scenario I would be able to let out some monosyllables words. It was so painful to watch that I cried internally. It seems today was another failure. Grandma will sure be sad. After I was born in this new world, I decided that I would overcome my lack of social ability and maybe, just maybe, there is no problem about dreaming, make lots of friends! Yeah, the toddler version of me was annoyingly determined, but after twelve years of non-to-minimal progress, the flame inside is slowly dying. If not for my dear grandmother, who is by the way one of the two people whom I can communicate well with in this world, and the first winner when it comes to truly understand me, I would have already given up. But grandmother always says the right thing when I’m in the most need of it, so that’s why I am still trying. It’s really nice having a grandmother, hm. In my past life, it was just mother and father as my closest family. Although they were always other people around, the feeling was just not the same. Here, in Accardi, my ‘father’ died before I was born, and his death affected my ‘mother’ so much that she wasn’t strong enough to survive my birth. In the end, I was single-handed raised by grandmother, who was already a widow by that time. But, well, I think it was better this way. It wouldn’t be easy to accept others parents besides my own from my past life. Besides all their shortcomings, I deeply miss them. I expelled the sad thoughts while looking at my already full basket. Before going back home, I decided to visit our village’s chief, Brann. I like to think of him as my own little project. What brought us together was not a happy event, to be honest. When I realized that I had reincarnated not exactly on my own game’s world, but on that person’s novel based on my game’s settings, I was incredibly annoyed. The Rising of the Magic Swordsman, as the novel cheesy title, already explained very much everything one must one about the story. There was a guy, who somehow got himself transported into a new magical world, and he fights his way until he becomes a powerhouse full of beauties in his arms and loyal brothers by his side. And the way I discovered that this ‘Accardi’ was actually the novel’s instead of just the game’s, was because I had become one of the beauties above mentioned. Mary, daughter of Zet. She was supposed to be the first harem member of the novel’s protagonist. With green eyes and dark blond hair, her character was built up to reveal a cute, lovely village girl working at the inn, who may not be stunningly beautiful, but with a smile capable of melting anyone’s heart with its warmth. When the male protagonist was still pretty confused about the whole transported-to-another-world-thing, he would first come across this village, Doveshire. After being beaten up by some ruffians, the kind-hearted Mary would save him and the seed of love would be cultivated. Utterly ridiculous! Angel01 made Doveshire the first village in the protagonist’s path because in Accardi’s game, it is actually the beginner’s village for any Human Race new players. Perhaps this damned writer thought it would be fitting, and I may have agreed to him, if not for his next actions! After the protagonist had lived in Doveshire for a while, trying to adapt to his new reality together with a may-be-sweetheart and his first master in the ways of sword, the always peaceful village would be devastated by a horde of magic beasts! A true massacre, the only survivor was the protagonist, and this event consequently build up his desire to become strong enough to never lose another important person. What ‘it was necessary for character growth’?! Eveyone knows that the beginner’s village is a safe zone! No fights, no death! It was a place to casually chat or to enjoy the game’s finely made graphics! Doveshire Village was the first world setting I planned, when Accardi was just a faint idea. And Angel01 actually destroyed everything on it... It became personal. Anyways, just the thought that my safer-than-any-palace Doveshire Village can have ruffians is too much to handle. And that’s where Brann comes in. When I was still just a child, I had logically reasoned that this is not just a novel or a game anymore, but reality. Which means that things that weren’t explained by the storyline or the settings must have a consistent reason behind, after all, how can reality have plot holes? Following this line of thought, why would a little town have bandits beating up people as they like? It must be because the one managing said town is not doing a very good job. I don’t care about the novel’s protagonist and what else, but the integrity of the beginner’s village must be preserved! At that time, the little girl with mere five summers of life met the village’s chief. Since my grandmother is the village’s healer, she has quite the influence among these folks. The new chief who had just taken the role from his late father was not an exception. His name is Brann, son of Dorin. In this small, nondescript village, his family is the most literate one. After I asked grandma, she happily arranged for me to be groomed by the chief himself. First, I was just supposed to learn how to read and write from him. Even if I already knew how to do it, I wanted to check on him, see if my suspicions were right. Yep, bull’s eye. Brann is tall, with a head full of dark hair and eyes of a nice honeyed color. He does seem like a reliable person, but too bad that the feeling stops at his appearance. How should I describe him... Like a paper boat who just follows the flow without any self-goal? Talking nicely, that is. Saying it a little cruelly, he is a coward who cannot stands up for himself. Being the way he is, it isn’t that easy to turn him into a good leader. However, compared with the magic beasts matter, setting the village’s public security by advising the kinda incompetent Brann was relatively simple. Well, I’m not gonna lie, at first I did think about getting rid of Brann, saving me of all the trouble grooming a decent chief would bring. Although I do not like killing people unnecessarily -even if it was possible to do it outside the village’s territory, maintaining Doveshire’s safe zone title- with Brann, good old blackmailing was already enough to make him go away. However, in the end, I decided against it. Brann has no brothers nor son, his relatives of appropriate age are all someone else’s wife. If that’s so, who would become the next chief? A leaderless group is dangerous and unstable, and my Doveshire must always be peaceful. So, decisions of that time led to today’s situation. I stopped in front a relatively large house according to this village’s standards. With the corner of my eyes, I saw two village kids who seemed to be looking at me. Just when I direct my gaze at them, the boys quickly averted their own, whispering something too faintly for me to hear it. Well, such a scene is not that unfamiliar. As I thought, be it my past life or this one, people always think of me as the weird, kinda mute girl with a gloomy personality, or the borderline psychotic woman who doesn’t talk. As ashamed as I am to admit it, the truth is that I’ve never had a friend of my age. Sighing lightly, I stepped inside the white colored house that works as both the chief’s housing and the village’s prefecture. I walked the familiar wooden floor towards the place I knew Brann would be. Passing directly through the study, where any decent chief should be at this hour of the day, I made my way to the master’s room. Without any ceremony whatsoever, I opened the door. The lump underneath the sheets jumped in scare with the sudden light and abrupt sound. Having accomplished my goal, I serenely made my way to the study, ready to wait for that lazy brat’s slow morning routine. Knowing that it could take a while, I sat in the most comfortable chair as I always do, quietly browsing through the book laying nearby. A quarter of an hour must have passed when the study’s door was open, and Dovenshire’s esteemed chief entered. He must have rushed himself, because although his eyes seemed alert enough, he still had a head of bed hair. My face was still neutral, but I couldn’t help sigh internally at the sight, even if it was kinda of funny. Alle, it seems that even after years of work, we still couldn’t overcome this slack chief’s bad sleeping habits. Brann just can’t wake up early. I took my eyes away of Brann’s figure and kept reading the book in my hands. It actually contained the village’s financial records, and nothing had changed since last night, when I have personally watched as Brann did his work. But the truth is... Well, I can’t handle awkward silences, ok? I don’t know what I should say, where I should look, is talking about the weather allowed when you’re in-doors?! I don’t know, alright? It’s too much pressure on me! So, I will pretend I am reading, or thinking about my life, or doing something incredibly important. Don’t ask me to break the ice. If you want it, do it yourself. So, I concentrate in the village’s financial records with all my might. The uncomfortable silence stretched as I carefully read the accounts that I knew by heart. Sooner or later, Brann would understand and start talking. To be honest, he is actually one of the two people in this world whom I can communicate well with, besides grandma. Not so surprising, since we are working together for seven years, since he ‘taught’ me how to write. I remembered that after this teacher-student event, I offered my service to be his assistance. He had personally seen how I was really smart for my age, and agreed to take me under his wings. Well, I guess this is what happened when a young girl finishes the chief’s work faster than the chief himself. Anyways, the excuse was that I would study to be his future assistance. Grandma was happy and the other villagers couldn’t see anything wrong with it. Under the disguise of ‘learning’, I made my goal to teach Brann how a good leader must be. Not wanting to brag, but I think I’m doing a great job, both as an assistance and as a ‘teacher’. Along the way, we start understanding each other. He is still a little slow to catch it sometimes, but it’s nonetheless progress. I heard Brann cleaning his throat, so I knew he would soon talk. Oh, thank God, I couldn’t bear this silence any longer. I directed my gaze full of eagerness towards him, and maybe out of habit, I activated my unique power. Appraisal. Absentmindedly noticing that nothing had changed, I couldn’t help but slightly frown when my eyes reached the bottom of the floating virtual panel. Name: Brann Race: Human Age: 27 years old Stats: HP: 96/100 MP: 40/50 Strength: 30 Speed: 26 Resistance: 7 Skills: Acountability Lv 6 Calligraphy Lv 4 Acting Lv 5 Water Elemental Magic Lv 3 Basic Swordsmanship Lv 2 Leadership Lv 0 (+1) Insight Lv 0 (+3) Titles: • Doveshire Village’s Chief • Mary’s Puppet Well... As I thought, no matter how one sees it, it’s still a suspicious looking title. ~•~ -Brann’s POV- A sudden light and an abrupt sound. I jumped, frightened, my confused mind wondering if there was an intruder in my house, while blindly searching for the dagger I keep close just in case. Was it a robber? A wild animal? As I noticed the girl standing in the doorsteps, I thought: Oh, fuck, it was something even worse. I still remembered when Alma came to me regarding her granddaughter. She is really intelligent girl. And cute, too. And so mature despite her age, you’ll see. She never asked me for anything, you believe that? And she now actually asked her grandma for a birthday present fufufu so, so adorable. She is also very obedient, you won’t find another little girl like her... Yeah, there was an endless sea of compliments towards the child. At the end she said, It would be a great favor. After all, I can’t think of anyone else who would be fitting. Our village’s healer seemed to chuckle and murmur to herself. And I told that cute girl I would do it, so it’s not like I will let you go~ But I think I had misheard it. I remembered that the word ‘no’ was at my tongue, but I still somehow agreed. In my defense, I had just became the new chief, after my father’s passing, and Alma was almost like our village’s Elder. I just couldn’t say no. I never really wanted to be the village’s chief. But my father’s whole life evolved in raising me, his only son, to succeed him. There was never a truly good moment to mention my opinion regarding this matter, so things just continued flowing and by the time I noticed, father had passed away and I had already taken the role. And then everyone was expecting me to do it, and there was nothing much I could say. So I became Doveshire’s Chief and a five-years-old’s teacher. Her name was Mary. She didn’t like the sun so much, and would often stay at home. When Alma brought her to me, it was actually the first time I saw her up close, a little thing who could barely reach my thighs. In that round, cute face, there were large eyes involved by long lashes. Her eyes were of an intense, shining moss green. Usually, this type of color would make you think of spring breeze, baby’s laughs, and good naps after lunch. Her eyes, however... made me think of a dangerous, deadly forest. The distance howl of a lone wolf remembered me that such forest was real, and it was uncomfortably near. I was twenty at that time. My younger self couldn’t believe he had actually thought such a thing about a mere five years old girl. I concluded I was just under too much stress with my father’s death and the rare appearance of a stray Silver-Fanged Wolf around. I looked at the twelve years old girl sitting at the chief’s chair like she has full rights over it. The thing is, she does. After seven years, I knew this all too well. Whatever I thought I had saw in her eyes, my younger self once told himself, it was just an illusion. I often like to mockingly laugh at my younger self.