Aeon woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through his window, feeling more rested than he had in weeks. The bed had been a revelation—actual comfort without the constant alertness that had become second nature during his time as a slave. For a few precious moments, he allowed himself to simply lie there and appreciate the luxury of safety.
But routine was important, especially when establishing himself in a new environment. He rose and made his way to the shared washroom down the hall, grateful to find it empty at this early hour.
The facilities were basic but well-maintained, with running water that spoke to the village's level of development. Aeon cleaned his teeth with the simple brush and powder that had been provided, then stepped into the bathing area for his first proper wash since arriving in Millhaven.
The hot water was a revelation. As he scrubbed away the lingering remnants of his ordeal, he could feel his body continuing its remarkable healing process. The diagonal scar across his chest was still tender but no longer painful, and most of the smaller wounds had faded to barely visible lines. His broken hand, while still splinted, felt almost normal.
Faster healing than should be possible, he noted, flexing his fingers experimentally. Either my infinity attribute has recovery applications I don't understand, or this body has some kind of enhanced constitution.
Returning to his quarters, Aeon examined the clothes that had been left for him. The outfit was practical and unremarkable—exactly what someone trying to blend into a small community would want.
The trousers were made of sturdy brown wool, well-tailored but without ornamentation. They fit properly through the waist and legs, suggesting someone had taken his measurements while he was unconscious. The fabric was thick enough to provide warmth but not so heavy as to impede movement.
The shirt was simple linen in an undyed cream color, with long sleeves and a basic collar that could be worn open or closed depending on the weather. The weave was fine and even, indicating quality craftsmanship without ostentation. It was the kind of garment that would allow him to move through the village without drawing attention to himself.
A brown leather belt completed the ensemble, along with simple boots that were sturdy enough for walking but unremarkable in design. Everything was clean, well-made, and deliberately ordinary.
The clothing of someone who belongs but doesn't stand out, Aeon observed with approval. They want me integrated but invisible.
As he finished dressing, Aeon caught sight of himself in the small mirror mounted beside the washbasin. The reflection that looked back at him was still somewhat startling—this body was much younger than he was accustomed to thinking of himself, clearly around ten years old.
His hair was an unusual stark white, having grown out during his time in captivity. It fell just past his ears in a way that suggested he would need a trim soon if he wanted to maintain a neat appearance. His eyes were a striking crimson red, set in a face that was lean rather than gaunt—the lingering effects of malnutrition offset by the rapid healing that had restored much of his strength.
The scar across his chest was visible through the open collar of his shirt, a pale line that would probably fade further with time. His hands were calloused from manual labor but healing well, and his overall build suggested someone who had been physically active despite his circumstances and young age.
Young enough that attending classes with children makes perfect sense, he noted with satisfaction. Though the white hair and red eyes will make me stand out whether I want to or not.
It was then that he noticed the folded paper sitting on his desk.
Aeon stared at the letter for a long moment, his blood running cold as the implications sank in. He had been a light sleeper since awakening in this world—hypervigilant, constantly alert for threats. The idea that someone had entered his room, left a message, and departed without waking him was deeply unsettling.
Either I was more exhausted than I realized, or they have people skilled enough to move through occupied spaces without detection.
Both possibilities were concerning for different reasons.
With careful fingers, he unfolded the paper and read the contents:
Aeon—
Your first class begins at sunrise in the Learning Hall, located on Scholars' Street two blocks east of the main square. Look for the building with blue shutters and a wooden sign bearing the symbol of an open book.
You will attend Basic Letters with Instructor Maya from sunrise to midday. After the noon meal, report to the Training Grounds behind the Guard Station for Attribute Development with Master Kellor.
A breakfast tray has been left outside your door.
Do not be late.
—Captain Henrik
Aeon read the message twice, committing the directions to memory before folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket. The tone was professional but carried an undertone of warning—Henrik's way of reminding him that his cooperation was expected rather than optional.
Breakfast outside my door, he realized. More people moving through the hallway while I slept.
It was a humbling reminder that despite his growing confidence in his abilities, he was still operating in an environment where others held most of the advantages. The village guards knew their territory, understood their resources, and could monitor him in ways he hadn't even considered.
Something to remember for the future, he thought as he moved toward the door. I'm not as aware of my surroundings as I thought.
Aeon paused with his hand on the door handle, taking a moment to prepare himself mentally for what lay ahead. Today would be his first real interaction with Millhaven's civilian population—people who had heard rumors about the dangerous stranger but hadn't yet formed their own opinions.
First impressions mattered. How he presented himself in these initial encounters would shape how the community viewed him for the remainder of his stay.
Time to be the harmless, grateful refugee they want me to be, he thought with grim amusement. At least until I understand what I'm really dealing with.
Taking a deep breath, Aeon opened the door and stepped into the hallway, ready to begin his education in earnest.