Home [2]

Arthanis trailed behind Vaendalle, taking in the sights and sounds of the village. He noticed that most of the shops and stalls had the word "Terabis" in their names, which he guessed was the name of the village.

They arrived at a cozy two-story wooden house with a fence and a small orchard next to it. A well stood on the left side of the house, providing fresh water. Vaendalle opened the door and invited Arthanis to enter.

"Make yourself at home. I'll cook something for you to eat. You can wash up first," the old man said as he headed to the kitchen on the left.

Crossing the threshold, Arthanis paused, allowing his eyes to roam over his new surroundings. The ground floor was an open space, with a homely kitchen wafting with inviting aromas, a living room, and a storage room that served as a gateway to the small orchard. A wooden staircase, worn by time and use, spiraled upwards, leading to a secluded second floor, home to two contrasting bedrooms.

Arthanis climbed up the stairs and peeked into the rooms. The one on the right was tidy and neat, with a bed, a closet, a desk, and some personal belongings. The one on the left was messy and chaotic, with leather clothes, knives, alchemy bottles, and other items scattered around. There was also a bed and a closet.

The disarray in one of the rooms was a silent proclamation of its ownership - it was unmistakably Arthanis's. He entered the room and tidied up the mess, putting away the things that were lying around. Shrugging off the weight of his sword and armor, he slipped into attire more suited for comfort than combat.

Descending the stairs, an enticing aroma that made his stomach rumble in anticipation greeted him. He peeked into the kitchen and saw Vaendalle cooking some food with a smile on his wrinkled face. Deciding to freshen up before the meal, he ventured outside towards the well.

Arthanis shivered as the cold water washed over his body, washing away the goblin's dirt and blood. He glanced at the Mire, the floating orb that accompanied him everywhere. The orb seemed unaffected by the water, as if it were a ghost.

During the day, no one questioned him about the flying orb that was always beside him, so he concluded that he was the only one who could see it.

He finished his bath and wrapped a towel around his waist. He felt a gentle breeze caress his skin, and he looked up at the sky. The sun began its descent, setting the horizon ablaze with hues of orange, yellow, and purple. He smiled faintly, enjoying the peaceful moment.

A sudden flash on Mire's surface caught his attention. A notification blinked ominously.

─ Status Conditions: Life until 25:11:12 downtime.

Arthanis frowned. He needed to find a way to extend his lifespan, or he would perish in this strange world.

While he waited for Vaendalle to call him for the meal, he scanned the village with his keen eyes. The lively chatter of the villagers, the innocent laughter of the children, the rhythmic clatter of the guards' armor - it all felt oddly comforting. Yet, amidst this harmony, he felt out of place.

He was an anomaly, a paradox, a contradiction.

He belonged to the darkness, yet he basked in the light.

He was from another world, yet he lived in this new world.

He pondered if others shared his unique or strange circumstances, or if he was destined to tread this path alone.

"Arthanis!" Vaendalle shouted.

Suddenly, the sound of Vaendalle's voice pierced through his introspection. The familiar cadence of his voice was like an anchor in the stormy sea of his thoughts. It brought him back to reality, grounding him in the present moment. His eyes flickered towards his; curiosity piqued by the interruption. The world around him came back into focus, the colors more vibrant, the sounds more distinct.

He was no longer lost in his thoughts but firmly rooted in the here and now. The paradox that was his existence continued to confound him, but for now, he chose to set it aside. After all, life was for living, not just for pondering.

"Arthanis! Come on, the food is ready!" Vaendalle yelled again.

He quickly put on his clothes and ran towards him.

"Coming!"

He strode to the dining room, where a feast awaited him. A plate of roasted chicken, crispy and juicy, a bowl of mashed potatoes, creamy and smooth, a basket of bread, soft and warm, and a pitcher of lemonade, cold and refreshing. They smelled heavenly and tempting.

He bent over the plate and sniffed the meat. It was tender and flavorful, seasoned with rosemary and garlic. He asked in wonder, "What is this?"

"Venison with vegetable sauce," Vaendalle said as he set some bread on the table. "It pairs well with the bread."

Arthanis sat down and made himself a sandwich. He took some bread and piled some meat with the sauce on it. He topped it with another slice of bread and squished it. He bit into the sandwich and groaned in pleasure. The spicy and tangy taste of the food exploded in his mouth, and he devoured it eagerly.

Vaendalle chuckled, "Easy there, lad. There's more than enough for you."

Arthanis smiled at him. "I can't help it. This is amazing!" He glanced at Vaendalle and saw that he had no plate. He swallowed his food and asked, "You're not hungry?"

Vaendalle shook his head. "I ate earlier." He said.

Arthanis shrugged and grabbed another sandwich. "Don't mind if I eat it all, then." He said.

Vaendalle watched him with amusement. He poured himself a cup of tea and drank it slowly. He waited until Arthanis had cleared the table before he spoke again.

"Wow! That was a splendid meal." Arthanis said, rubbing his stomach.

Vaendalle nodded and asked, "So, how was your escape to the forest?"

'So, that's why I woke up in this 'Arthanis' guy's body in the forest. He ran away from something? How could he live in a forest full of monsters?' he thought before answering.

Arthanis stuck to his story. He met Vaendalle's gaze with a calm expression and said, "It was fine. I just wanted some adventure and fresh air, you know. The forest was quiet and peaceful. I found a cave to live in and hunted some game for food. I didn't meet many goblins or kobolds until the last day, when I saw Miera, Ziera, and their uncle in trouble. I couldn't ignore them, so I joined the fight and saved them."

Vaendalle's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He leaned in and asked, "Really? That's remarkable. And what did you learn from your solitary days in the forest? Did you have any epiphanies or revelations?"

Arthanis paused for a moment. He didn't know what the former owner of his body had experienced in the forest, but he had his own recollections of the ordeal.

He met Vaendalle's eyes with a sincere expression and said, "I learned that life is meaningless without someone to share it with. Solitude can be a preference, but it can also be a punishment. Companionship can be a trial, but it can also be a gift. I realized that I was just weary of being alone."

Vaendalle's eyes softened, and he squeezed Arthanis's shoulder gently. "I'm glad I let you go that night. You have matured a lot since then. You have made me proud."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for troubling you."

Vaendalle winked at him and said, "No need to apologize. Just follow me and show me what you have learned."

"Where are we going?"

Vaendalle grinned and said, "To the training ground, of course."

They left their home and followed the moonlit path to the training ground, where wooden fences and a battering ram outlined the area. Several people were honing their skills, sparring, and training.

Arthanis scanned the faces of the people at the gate. Some of them donned the uniforms of the guards and some of them looked terrified and pale. He wondered if they were here to train or to watch something.

"Pick your weapons and get ready for some action." Vaendalle instructed.

"Alright."

He walked over to the weapon rack and picked a wooden dagger and sword. He felt the heft of the weapons in his hands. He faced Vaendalle, who was holding a sheathed sword.

Arthanis glowered at Vaendalle, who held a shining sword in his hand. "You're joking, right? You're going to fight me with a real sword while I have a wooden one?" he asked incredulously.

Vaendalle chuckled. "Don't be foolish, boy. I won't draw my sword. I'll just use it as a blunt weapon. Now show me what you've learned in the forest. And don't hold back." He motioned for Arthanis to come closer.

"Fine." Arthanis bit his teeth and held his wooden sword firmly. He dashed at Vaendalle with his weapon high. He ordered Mire to scan his target and aimed for his chest and head.

But before he could reach him, Mire's voice warned him.

[Warning! Target is too powerful. Cannot track the movements of the target.]

Arthanis felt a jolt of fear. He tried to halt, but it was too late. Vaendalle moved like a bolt of lightning. He slashed his sword and struck Arthanis in the back with a loud thud making him fall to the ground, wheezing for air.

"Huh? What just happened?"

"What are you doing on the ground? Get up! This training won't end if you just lie there!"

"Yes!" Arthanis agreed as he stood up, his face showing confusion and frustration.

He attacked Vaendalle again, running with full alertness. He circled his sword around Vaendalle's neck, hoping to surprise him.

But in a split second, he was on the ground again. He felt another hit on his head, making him see stars.

"What? Again?" He looked up and saw Vaendalle looming over him with a smirk.

"Is this all you learned in the forest?" Vaendalle mocked him.

"Ugh… No. Let's do it again. This time, I will at least see your movements."

"Then let me repeat this. Welcome back to your hell training, lad!" Vaendalle said with a wicked grin.

'Damn it! I get why the original Arthanis ran away now,' Arthanis thought bitterly.

Arthanis sensed the eyes of the others who were watching him. He heard their gasps and whispers, but he ignored them. He only cared about surviving Vaendalle's brutal training. He wondered how the old man could be so fast and strong. He wished he could read his movements, but even Mire was useless. He felt like he was fighting a phantom. He clenched his teeth and rose again, resolved not to give up.

'I can do this.' He thought bitterly.