“I'd like to help them,” I said to Astrette, who was sitting beside me. She stared at me with an expression that seemed to read, why the hell would you want to do that?

“No. You are not fit enough to handle that kind of physical work,” she said, gaze moving to observe the women and children tending to the large crop fields behind the village; near the stream we were sitting at.

“If I don't move, Astre,” I said, flexing my stringy calf muscles. “I fear I may never be able to use my body properly again.”

Astrette's eyebrows twitched. “I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me that,” she said coolly. “As for your request, I cannot acquiesce. It's still too early for you. I understand your concerns, so please try to understand mine as your nurse.”

I sighed, a lump in my throat. It had been three days since the party in ‘my honor,’ but I couldn't say the villagers' attitude towards me had changed much. I needed some way to socialize with them. To connect.

“Look, if you truly need to exercise,” Astrette said, she—like her master—had a bad habit of assuming my thoughts. “You may join me for foraging. Walking is less stressful than plowing away in fields.”

“Oh…right, that'll do,” I mumbled, catching myself before I could let out a dejected sigh.

Astrette smiled brightly, standing up and patting the dust off the back of her trousers. “Right then... Give me a few minutes, I'll prepare a bag for our voyage.” Then, she was gone.

“...Voyage?” I echoed dumbly, waving at a little girl that was staring at me curiously. She jolted, startled, running deeper into the field of tall green stocks.

I curled my fingers into a fist, lowering my arm. A gust of wind gently blew by. …Ah, I'm so horny I could die, I paused, the fine hairs on my forearms perking. Thank God no one can read my mind…otherwise…it'd be some gross misunderstanding…Damn! But it's her fault I'm like this.

Shaking my head roughly, I tried to focus on something other than the mysterious goddess. It didn't help. Sein's image was plastered on the epicenter of my mind's eye at all times, enticing a violent reaction in my body if I so much as thought of her.

I can't even remember Roshni's face unless in the Mental World, I lamented, watching the purple stocks of cereal sway with the rhythm of the wind.

‘Infidel,’ she’d curse if she knew I was slowly losing my affection for her. ‘You're still just an animal, after all.’

I sighed, closing my eyes, acknowledging all the many feelings that had been swirling in my chest since the ‘transmigration.’ I left more than enough for Roshni and the kids. It was time for me to leave them behind, too. A new life awaited me.

I opened my eyes at the sound of the soft footsteps closing in. Astrette walked over, a bag slung over her back and two waterskins hanging from her belt.

“Well, up you go,” she said in a carefree manner, helping me to my feet. She gazed around for a few minutes, then a clandestine smile adorned her face as she stared in the opposite direction of the sun before she pulled me along, towing me along to whatever she saw.

We walked for about thirty minutes in silence, Astrette occasionally stopping to inspect the flowers that grew between the endless blades of grass, picking the ones she deemed worthy into the small pouch strapped to her belt. She rarely made conversation, unless it was to ask if I needed a break or water. Though, to my agony, she paced her steps with long, speedy strides.

I stumbled, almost tripping on my foot. “Alright. Where are you rushing to?”

Astrette looked back, and I saw panic ripple down her face. It seems she just realized I was still a cripple.

“My… Forgive me,” she said hurriedly. “I—it's my fault. I was too nonchalant about this, but…” she sighed. “I feel something special ahead. I'd explain, however… you seem to know nothing about herbs, so…”

“Humor me.” I caught my breath, then restarted my gait. “Please.”

Astrette matched my pace, leading the way. “Err…Fine.” Her expression showed thoughtfulness. “Since you are a Hearthborne, you should know that plants—just like all of Sualar's creations—carry Intent to Live,” she explained. “And just like humans, some plants have a ‘stronger will to live’ than others. I feel the Radiance of one such herb ahead, don't you?”

“Sualar?” I asked, glossing over her question. “...You don't believe in the Fractured Five?” Or was I wrong to assume it was an organized religion?

Astrette stopped moving abruptly, her body tensing visibly. “I do, of course. But even the Records show the One True Creator is Sualar…right?”

Feeling I stepped on a landmine, I simply nodded in agreement and hoped for the best. My judgment proved correct as the moody young lady relaxed.

Maybe stop asking questions, I thought to myself, looking at Astrette's slender back. She seemed pretty peeved. Religion is a sensitive topic…who would've guessed.

Taking my advice, I stayed silent, only speaking up to ask for the occasional water break. We hiked past what felt like hundreds of miles to my frail, sickly body when my nurse turned to look at me with a confused expression.

“Mind resting here?” she asked, placing her bag on the ground. She opened it, and groped for something within, then pulled out a leather-bound dagger. “I packed some dry meat and bread if you're hungry.”

I acquiesced blankly, gingerly sitting down, massaging my sore leg muscles, watching her dash away.

“Isn't she sprightly…” I reached into the bag in search of the dried meat, pulling out a few strips of the rations. “I'm jealous.”

Chewing the tough, salt-hardened meat slowly, I looked to my right, then my left, and I didn't understand.

Why wasn't there a single tree out here? The plane was extremely flat in all directions. Where the hell did the people even get wood to build their huts? And though the abundance of grass was a good source of food for their herds, I didn't think it was sane to live around here…

“Perhaps there's a forest or something nearby, but then,” I mused idly, gulping down the salty meat, “how in the world didn't a stray seedling find its way to this seemingly fertile land?”

I shrugged, my hand reaching for a loaf of stale bread. It's not as if they're severed from society, they might be trading timber for something else.

Somewhat invigorated—and my belly firm with most of Astrette's rations—I let out a satisfied breath, slowly fixing my leery eyes ahead. Someone was steadily approaching. My gaze softened as I realized the approaching silhouette belonged to my nurse and caregiver.

Curiously, she was carrying what looked like the lifeless body of a child in her arms. “This is a surprise,” I said, examining the child. He—or she, it was impossible to tell; the brat was as androgynous as it was suspicious—was deathly pale, lips a bluish hue and cracked. Practically on the verge of death. “Was ‘picking flowers’ code for trafficking children?”

Astrette's nose wrinkled slightly. “Is that a joke?”

“I'm sorry,” I said drily, raising my hands defencelessly. “Still, I may need you to shine some light on this…situation.”

Her response was an annoyed glare. It didn't bother me as my eyes continued to study her every movement. She gently lay the boy on the ground, flipping the worn and bloody tunic the child wore to expose the rotting wound marring his abdominal region.

Astrette frowned, touching the area around the ghastly gash gently, pinching and feeling the fluidity of the pinkish-red blood leaking from the wound. She reached into her waist pouch, retrieved a tiny container, then smeared the bright blue balm around the injury.

Moments later, a slimy translucent layer of skin began weaving the wound closed, stopping the bleeding. The infection around the gash grew darker.

“...We should get him to Master,” she murmured grimly, lifting the child back into her arms.

Should we? I wondered, nodding, picking up the baggage.

***

When Ylrenci saw what her student brought home, she was a little irritated. “Astre!” she said, springing up from her seat. “Just why did you bring such a thing here”—a penetrating glance at me—“again?”

“What was I to do?” Astrette argued, defiantly glaring at her master. “Leave the child to die?”

Ylrenci pinched the bridge of her nose indignantly. “Yes, dear,” she said evenly. “It's not our place to save every stray animal.” She held up her hand, gesturing for Astrette to keep whatever argument she was about to spew out to herself. “We shall have a further conversation on this at another time. For now, just…take the child to the guest room.”

Nodding reverently to her master, Astrette sauntered into what I came to know as my room. Ylrenci followed, grumbling about how her day was ruined, closing the door behind her.

Left alone and without a guardian, I scratched the patchy beard growing around my chin. “...I should visit Darson,” I mumbled, grabbing the last of the jerky in Astrette's bag and walking out of the house.

I strolled with a slight, limping spring in my steps, admiring the rustic scenery. Staring at the wooden buildings, listening to the sound of critters—domestic and wild—in the background, I felt an odd feeling bubble in my chest.

It's as though I traveled hundreds of years into the past. That—or this is just some poor village. I thought, stepping up to Darson's door, knocking. Either way, I suppose waking up in a new ‘world’ is reason enough to be excited.

The door opened, and on the other side was Catherine. “Oh,” she whispered, surprised, a baby balanced on her waist. “Please come in.”

“Sorry to barge in,” I said, glancing around the humble abode, and finding myself a seat. “Is Dars home?”

She carefully placed the baby—Filan, if memory serves right—on the table, holding him upright. “He's out patrolling. But I can have Freia call him for you.”

“That'd be great.”

“Hmm. Okay,” Catherine said, sticking her tongue out at Filan, lifting the chubby baby into her arms. “Freia should be outside.”

She stood, walking to the door, calling out her daughter's name. The response came a moment later. “Can you go and get your father for me? Tell him Ren is here.”

“But Papa's really busy,” a kiddish voice drawled. “You. Know. That. He'll—”

“Enough, Frei. Don't start with me and just go,” Catherine snapped. “Please.”

“Dars is…patrolling? Ah, he is a guard,” I said softly before she could slip into another room. “You know, he babbles on about everything but never talks about that.”

Catherine glanced over her shoulder, a smile hanging from her lips. “Well, I think that's something you should ask him personally,” she said, walking through a doorway, and entering the next room. “He doesn't talk much about it with me either.”

I cocked a brow, watching chubby Filan crawl out of the room his mother was currently busy in. “...Oh? If that’s the case, forget I asked.”

“I'll try.” Catherine teased, dragging her words along.

The baby stopped just in front of me, sucking on his hand. He stared, drool slowly dripping down his chin and arm.

I narrowed my eyes, staring into his, tilting my head slightly. Filan let out a joyful shout, bobbing his head. Then, without warning, dismal heat suddenly pressed against my skin. I shuddered, subconsciously glancing at the nooks of the chamber.

With a soft clink, Catherine placed a mug on the table. I jostled in my seat, slowly glancing at her. She gave me a long look, then grabbed Filan into her arms. “Seems this little gentleman is smitten with you.”

I reached for the mug, wrapping my fingers around it. “Are you sure? He couldn't stop glaring at me moments ago.”

“That's how I know he likes you,” Catherine said, laughing lightly. “I mean, as soon as I put him down, he blitzed out the kitchen to see you.”

“It's like that, huh, Fil?” I said, drinking the bitter tea. The baby let out a soft shriek, and I was almost inclined to believe it was a response.

“See? He really likes you.”

Mind swimming, I simply nodded and Catherine began playing with the baby, bringing our conversation to a halt. Not that it mattered as Darson stomped in a heartbeat later.

“Well! Isn't this a surprise?” he said, voice booming a deep baritone, feigning a look around. “Ya finally escaped Lady Yl's hand?”

“...Barely,” I joked, standing, firmly slapping my hand into his and pulling him into an embrace.

Darson laughed, grabbing me by the shoulders. “I can only imagine.” He helped me to my seat. “Though I wish you’d given me a warning, I’d have been better prepared for your visit.”

“It’s quite alright,” I said, lifting my mug. “I feel right at home.”

Once he was settled in a seat next to his wife, he smiled, kissing her on the chick. “Thanks to my very own Redhead, I assume?”

Catherine blushed, quickly escaping Darson’s embrace. “I’ll leave you both to converse without restraint,” she said, beaming. “I’ll be in the garden if you are to need me.”

“Aye, dear,” he said, “have fun. Although I don’t think it’s necessary for you to leave, right, Ren?”

“Of course. In fact, it’d be pleasant if you stayed,” I said feigning thoughtfulness, stroking my chin. “Your natural elegance balances out your husband's boorish nature… It’s so much easier speaking to him with you around.”

Darson scoffed exaggeratedly, and Catherine simply flashed a smile, leaving without another word.

“Wine?”

I shook my head, patiently waiting for the jocular man to fetch himself a drink and settle back down. He gulped a few mouthfuls, then said, “And so? What am I to make of your sudden visit?”

“What indeed.”

“Hah?” he blurted, confused.

“I…can’t remember the little things.” I slowly undid the wrapping around my head, gently placing the bandages on the table. “Where I was born, my mother’s maiden name. It’s as if there are gaping voids in my mind.” A slow, frustrated sigh. “I can barely remember anything beyond my fight with the Corrupted.”

Darson sat back, shoulders stiff. He drank each of my words as though they were the finest of wines, hanging by each sentence. “...Is there something I can do to help?” he said carefully.

“I…” my words trailed, and I shook my head, giving him a wry smile. “Nothing much. But perhaps you could lend me a map of sorts? After healing fully, I plan on going to the capital…”

“Ah,” Darson said, face falling with a hint of disappointment. He drank from his oversized cup. “The capital, aye? I don’t think that’d be possible in your current situation.”

I frowned. “Why's that?”

“Ya don’t have any identification!” he explained loudly, his breath almost enough to intoxicate me. That wasn’t the first drink of the day, not by a long shot. “And you don’t even remember your kin! How do you expect to enter the Karec? Hah” —a grating burp, then a sigh— “I forget ya noggin ain’t working. Listen here, you being a Hunter, entering most towns and cities would be a simple task, however, gaining entrance to His Eminence Karnden’s holiest domain? Impossible…”

Right about now, I wanted to smack the Darson lopsided. This happened all the time, whenever I asked him to explain something; he’d always go off-topic or start rambling drunkenly, slurring his words in a roundabout way.

“Dars,” I said, “why exactly can’t I enter the capital despite being a Hunter? The main reason.”

“That’s ‘cause the Fractured Five want to prevent the Corrupted from creeping into Karec,” Darson explained, a hint of resentment in his words. “Those creatures…they can break and reform their bodies, changing their appearance completely in just a few hours. I reckon the court doesn’t want to tarnish the Holyland by letting those blasphemous creatures in…”

“...I see,” I murmured, a little disappointed. ‘No. It’s fine. Any large city will do.’

“If you had the right documents,” Darson was saying, “this wouldn’t be an issue at all!”

“...Then it seems I’ll have to find my place somewhere else,” I said with a smile. “Still, is a map something you have or can acquire?”

Darson looked to be in thought for a moment then bobbed his head. “I’m not in possession of one, however, I’m sure Lady Yl is,” he said, looking at me quizzically. “Why didn’t ya just ask her?”

“She scares me,” I said evenly.

“Right!” Darson burst into laughter, slamming his mug loudly on the table; a white-milky substance slushing over the rim of the cup. “She's one to have even Redheads pissing their pants!”