The End of A New Day

After simply soaking in the tub for a bit, he decided to get out, exiting the tub as he dries himself before putting on the same clothes he wore before getting in.

Just those minuscule actions took a lot from him.

Each movement he took felt like pushing his limbs through a dense, thick abyss of water, trapped beneath his pressure as all he wanted to do is go limp and let the flow of it carry him wherever it chose.

Leaving the bathroom with a fresh clean, though his snow-white, unkempt locks were still wet, he returned to the main room to find Klaus just setting down a plate of freshly made food.

On the plate, white, fluffy bread with some cuts of pork were ready.

I thought it was morning, is it later? This looks like dinner, he thought.

"It's not much, but…" Klaus said, wiping his hands with a small towel as he looked at the young man.

"Ah," he responded indifferently, "It's fine. Thanks."

Klaus looked at him for a moment with discerning eyes, watching that unmoving expression that seemed ever-present on the face of the quiet, young man.

"I'll be out in the back then," Klaus told him, patting his shoulder, "Let me know if you need anything."

He nodded, "Alright."

Watching as Klaus went through the backdoor to seemingly handle some chores, he was left puzzled by the middle-aged man still.

He's leaving a total stranger alone in his house. He gave me clothes and fed me, as well. Why? He thought.

As he sat down on the furniture, picking at the meal with his wooden fork, he was left perplexed by the hospitality shown to him.

Though his stomach felt empty, he knew he didn't need to eat. It was that begrudged immortality he was stuck with by the old man. Still, his stomach yearned to be filled, but he simply continued to pick at his food as he tried to find the compulsion to eat it.

It's no different here, huh? It's just not…appealing. It's not that this food looks bad or anything. I'd say it's surprisingly well made…but, everything is unappealing, he thought.

After sitting there for a while just staring at his plate, Klaus came back in, covered in sweat as he was carrying bisected logs of wood, which he promptly set into the fireplace that neighbored the furniture he was sitting in.

"How'd you like it? I'm not much of a chef, but I don't think I'm half bad–" Klaus asked, standing back up as he brushed his hands on his trouser, turning to look at his plate, "Oh. You didn't eat any."

"Yeah," he responded stoically, "Sorry."

"No, don't worry about it," Klaus assured him with a wry smile that was half-hidden by his bushy mustache, "I imagine you're not feeling too well. Why don't you get some rest? I imagine it's been a long day for you."

As he sat there for a moment, still looking down at the plate, he still found it odd, this time so much so that he spoke out.

"Why're you doing this?" He asked.

"Huh? Doing what?" Klaus responded, asking while he organized the firewood into its proper place.

He clarified, "Helping me. I didn't ask for your help. You don't even know a single thing about you–so why?"

"That's just plain wrong, kid," Klaus told him.

Taken aback by his response, he looked at the burgundy haired man who was tanned seemingly only by his job that took place under the sun.

"What?"

"I know your name," Klaus smiled, "I know that you don't have any other place to go. Right? You came straight from the Forest of Lyma, dirty and naked, hardly knowing where you were and who you were. What was I supposed to do, kid? Turn you away and let you continue to wander aimlessly until you die?"

"I'd be fine," he told him.

Klaus intercepted his words, "Maybe, but I don't gamble with lives. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I turned you away at the gate, even more so if I had the capabilities to help you and I didn't do anything," he continued, "At that point, I'd fail my own son."

As soon as the words of his son left his lips, Klaus stopped himself, looking down for a moment in quiet, dreary silence.

He was beginning to understand where the sense of hospitality spawned from as he looked at the back of the knelt man, who faced the unlit fireplace.

"If you're willing…" He trailed his words, "I'll stay."

"Really?" Klaus said, looking at him now with surprised eyes.

He nodded slightly, "...You're right. I don't have anywhere to go, really. I…don't know anything, honestly."

Klaus looked at him in further surprise, "You mean you don't have any memories? You don't know where you came from, or anything?"

He shook his head, "Not a single thing. All I remember is waking up in that forest."

It was a lie, but he felt it was necessary. Not to save himself, but to prevent any hassle in overexplaining.

Nobody would believe me if I told them I was reincarnated from another world. It'd just cause unnecessary confusion, or worse, he thought.

Klaus looked at him for a moment, scratching his head, "Is that so? I expected something like that."

"You don't seem very surprised. I mean…is it normal to expect something like this?" He asked.

For a moment, Klaus didn't answer as he scratched his mustache before nodding, "Strange things have been happening around Garzgania. Some instances of people with amnesia have popped up, though."

"I see," he replied.

Klaus continued, "That's more of why I didn't want to leave you out there, to be honest. A lot of people are saying it's the "Wild King" returning. A lot of adventurers have gone missing lately, as well."

"I see," he said again.

Noticing his lack of intrigue in the conversation, Klaus looked at the young man, patting his shoulder, "I'll show you the room you're staying in, alright? Come on. Kid."

Shown down the hall, the middle-aged, hospitable man opened the door at the right of the hall, revealing a room that was surprisingly decorated.

A green-sheeted bed sat at the leftmost of the room, with a stand by it that had a lantern and some books occupying its top. A wooden training sword and old boots also sat by the stand.

"This was my son's room," Klaus scratched his arm a bit, "He's not using it anymore, so…feel free."

Anytime he mentioned his son, it seemed Klaus' gaze lowered and softened, unable to look at him directly.

"Thanks," he said as he entered the room, taking a seat on the bed.

Klaus stood at the doorway for a moment, seeming to want to say something but hesitating to say so.

After a minute of silence, the man finally asked, "I'm off-duty tomorrow morning, so how about I show you around the city?"

He didn't answer for a moment, pondering it though there wasn't much to ponder. He wasn't exactly interested, but once again, he felt inclined to accept as it was the least he could do.

"Sure," he nodded.

"Really?" Klaus seemed to light up at his acceptance, clearing his throat to calm himself, "Alright then. I'll wake you up bright and early, so get some rest!"

With that, the seemingly lonely man closed the door to give him privacy, leaving him alone in the room belonging to someone else.