"Two years? What is he talking about?"
Barth's words made no sense to Alexander, but he didn't let his confusion show. He maintained a calm expression and paid rapt attention.
"Ma and I tried talking sense into you, explaining that your name was not Walker, but you wouldn't listen.
We asked the village for help, even presenting you with people who had spent time with you, but you recognized no one.
We tried convincing you of your past, the ones with us, but you remained adamant about what you believed.
It took us some time, but Ma and I accepted the new you. We hoped you'd come to your senses and regain your memories, but that didn't happen. Four months later, you mysteriously fell ill again.
Just like the last time, you went unconscious. Then, after receiving extensive care and treatment, you woke up.
If you suspect that the same thing happened again, then you're right.
You claimed to have no memory of us once more. You said your name was Nethan, not Walker, and claimed to be a winemaker.
Again, we tried convincing you—but to no avail. In the end, we could only accept things as they were.
Every four months for the past two years, this same phenomenon has occurred. But then things changed after the sixth time.
The seventh time, when you declared your name was Garve and that you were a professional beggar, whatever that is, you lasted five months before falling ill… and this time, dying.
As Ma mentioned, it's been ten days since you died. And now, you've woken up."
Finishing his tale, the old man's lips curved into a smile, revealing a missing tooth on the side.
"Who confirmed that I was dead?"
"Ma is the village's doctor. You can doubt anything about her—but not her medicine," Barth said.
Hearing this, Alexander looked down at the bowl by his side, then back at Barth, one brow slightly raised.
"I said her medicine, not her religious beliefs."
"Apologies, but there is something I just can't understand," Alexander said.
"What is that?"
"You said I was dead and just now resurrected. Aren't your reactions a bit too tame for someone who just saw the dead come to life?"
"You have a point. And while I assure you that the people who were privy to your death will be shocked at your resurrection, what do you want us to do?
Not only are Ma and I more than a hundred years old, but we've also seen you change identities seven times, each time with no memory of the previous one.
We spent so much time together, Garve. No matter your new identity, I treated you as a son. But look at me… I didn't even shed a tear when you died."
"That must be painful," Alexander said plainly, and Barth's face fell.
"After Joachim, you might just be the coldest personality."
"How can you love seven different personalities?" Alexander asked, pressing his palms against the ground.
"Oh, that's the wonder of you. Despite losing your memories seven times and regaining consciousness believing yourself to be someone else—you behaved the same way.
Even Joachim, who was a little stiff at the beginning, warmed up to us."
Done talking, Barth went silent and enjoyed himself watching Alexander struggle to his feet.
"Won't you help me?"
"Ma said you should stay in bed."
"She also said you should feed me her blessed water."
"Fair point. But like I said, she is infallible when it comes to medicine. You barely just woke from the dead.
I might not be blown away by your revival, but even I understand the kind of miracle and divine intervention this requires."
"Neither I nor Ma have a desire to figure out the secrets surrounding you, but we are deeply interested in your well-being."
All the while Barth spoke, Alexander kept trying to push himself up. But not only did he find his arms too weak to lift his body, his energy was rapidly depleting.
"Can I get a mirror?" Alexander asked, giving up on getting to his feet.
"I understand. Excuse me."
Getting up from the stool, Barth, with his slim, long legs, walked out of the room. Alexander squinted, trying to catch a glimpse of the world outside.
Managing to spot another building some distance away before the door closed, he then brought his eyes to his arms.
"My arms are so thin and dry, they look like those of an Egyptian mummy."
In the silence, a fire burned in Alexander's eyes while a wide pit swirled in his stomach.
The explanation Barth had given, while bizarre, was meant to explain his present. But what about his past?
Alexander could come up with speculations about why he was with Barth and Ma instead of his army, but what of this shell he now inhabited?
"These arms, these legs…" Alexander looked further down. "These aren't mine. This body… this body is not mine."
Bong!!
Bong!!
Out of nowhere, the sound of a bell rang in Alexander's head. Before him, a large transparent brown scroll appeared, floating in the air.
He was still trying to understand what was happening when the scroll turned horizontal and unfurled.
[Hello Alexander.
After conquering nearly all of the known world, you died of an illness on your journey back to Macedonia.
Your soul has been transported from Earth to another world, Throft.
You can refer to me as 'System.'
For the rest of your stay here on Throft, I will be with you.]