Kazuya stepped out into the crisp air, the heavy wooden door of the guest cottage creaking shut behind him.
He took a moment to adjust the collar of his new black tunic. The fabric was coarse, but it was sturdy and clean. The black pants were slightly loose, cinched at the waist with a simple rope, and the leather boots felt stiff against his heels. They were the footwear of a commoner, but as he flexed his toes, he decided they would suffice.
He began to walk down the main thoroughfare of the village.
To his left, a cobbler hammered sole leather onto a wooden last, pausing every few strokes to run his thumb along the edge. To his right, a ropemaker walked backward down the street, twisting fibers into thick coils while a boy untangled the ends. Men grunted under the weight of burlap sacks filled with grain, and women carried bundles of colorful cloth toward the riverbanks for washing.
A group of children, no older than seven or eight, were locked in a fierce battle with wooden swords. As Kazuya passed, the clashing of wood stopped abruptly. They stood frozen, eyes wide with the unfiltered curiosity of youth, tracking the stranger as he moved through their world.
Kazuya kept his gaze forward, his face a mask of neutral politeness, until a booming voice called out to him.
"Young lad!"
Kazuya turned. Standing near a stall piled high with root vegetables was the leader of the village.
Kazuya immediately softened his expression, offering a humble smile and a respectful bow. "I can't thank you enough for your help, sir. You truly are a lifesaver."
The man, whose thick beard needed a trim, let out a hearty laugh. He stepped forward and clapped a heavy hand on Kazuya's shoulder. "Don't worry about it! I'll admit, at first I thought you were some scout with ill intent, but seeing the pathetic state you were in, I couldn't help but pity you."
Kazuya chuckled nervously, scratching his cheek in a show of feigned embarrassment. "I am sorry for the trouble I've caused."
The leader nodded, his expression turning slightly more serious. "What's your name? You mentioned you remembered that much, at least."
"Yes," Kazuya replied firmly. "My name is Kazuya. And what should I call you, sir?"
"You can call me Aldric," the man said, beginning to walk and gesturing for Kazuya to follow. "And this is Valros village. It's but a humble place on the edge of the world, but I hope you enjoy your stay here."
Kazuya walked a half-step behind, committing every detail to memory. Names were anchors in this sea of unknown information.
"So," Aldric asked after a moment of silence, "what do you plan on doing? A young man can't just stare at the clouds all day."
Kazuya paused, his eyes downcast as if searching for a memory that wasn't there. "I'm not sure. Since I have no memories, I can't remember where I came from, so I can't go back. I'm afraid I will have to trouble you and stay here for a while before I can decide on my next destination."
Aldric's eyes narrowed slightly, though his tone remained friendly. "If that's your decision, then you need to know one thing: in Valros, everyone pulls their weight. You'll have to work while you're here."
"I understand," Kazuya said with a nod.
So he doesn't want me to be a freeloader, Kazuya thought inwardly. Fair enough.
As he stared at Aldric's broad back, a cold calculation ran through his mind. He was a ghost from the sky, a boy with a secret that could likely get him executed. If this world had people with "special abilities," like mind-readers or truth-seers, he was at an extreme disadvantage.
I must stay out of the spotlight, he decided. The less attention I garner, the less likely I am to be scrutinized. I will do exactly what is asked of me, no more, no less.
They reached the riverbank. A dozen fishermen sat on stools or leaned against the dock, wearing wide-brimmed straw hats to shield themselves from the rising sun. Kazuya watched as one man yanked a long and flexible rod upward, a silver, wriggling creature bursting from the water.
Kazuya stared. He had seen these creatures from a distance, but he had no name for them. The lack of basic knowledge was a chasm at his feet, but his "amnesia" was the perfect bridge to cross it.
"Would you like to work as a fisherman?" Aldric asked, gesturing to the line of men. "We actually have fewer than I'd hope for. It's quiet work, but vital."
Kazuya looked at the slimy creatures and the repetitive motion of the rods. He smiled nervously. "Are there any other jobs? I'd like to see all the options before I commit."
Aldric nodded. "Suit yourself. You can work the farms, it's back-breaking but honest. Or you can head into the forest to cut timber. We're also building a few new houses, so physical labor is always in demand."
Kazuya listened as Aldric droned on, until the leader mentioned one last option.
"...You can also join with our healer, Orin, to gather herbs, roots, and rare plants. He's the only person with a Foci in our village, so he's very valuable to us. His need for plants is increasing, and he has to go farther into the wilds each time. To make sure we don't lose him to a beast, I've assigned someone to protect him."
Kazuya's pulse quickened. Someone with a Foci!
"I will choose... helping the healer, Orin," Kazuya said, his voice steady.
Aldric raised a bushy eyebrow. "Are you sure? The deep woods can be dangerous if you aren't careful. Why not choose a safer job like the docks?"
Kazuya shook his head, his face a picture of earnest gratitude. "Your help to me is really appreciated, sir. To repay my debt, I should choose the job that benefits the village most. If Orin is so valuable, then ensuring his safety and his work is the best way I can pay you back."
Aldric sighed, but a glint of respect shone in his eyes. "Spoken like a man of character. Very well. But you'll need to meet him first."
As if summoned by the situation, a young man with a shock of bright orange hair approached them. He moved with a light grace and wore a wide and friendly grin.
"Good morning, Sir Aldric!" the youth called out.
"Falk, good timing," Aldric replied. "This is Kazuya. He's new, and he's decided he wants to join you and Orin."
Falk tilted his head, studying Kazuya with a perplexed but not unkind gaze. He reached out a hand. "Greetings! My name's Falk. I help around the village when needed, but I'm mostly the muscle for Master Orin."
Kazuya shook the hand, noting the calluses. "Nice to meet you. I'm Kazuya. I'll be in your care."
"Falk, take him to Orin's place," Aldric ordered. "The sooner he meets him the better."
As they walked away, Falk turned to Kazuya. "Never seen you around. Where are you from?"
"I... I can't remember," Kazuya said, playing his part.
Falk stopped in his tracks. "You can't? At all? Like, did you hit your head on a rock or something?"
Kazuya gave a helpless shrug.
"Wow," Falk whistled. "I guess that was a stupid question to ask an amnesiac. But maybe you're from the Western Continent? You have that look about you, and names like yours are rare around these parts."
Kazuya's ears practically twitched. "Western Continent?"
Falk looked at him with genuine pity. "Man, you really are a blank slate. Look, the world is split into two main masses: the Eastern Continent, where we are now, specifically the Monvoo Kingdom, and the Western Continent across the sea."
Kazuya tucked the information away. Monvoo Kingdom. Eastern and Western Continents. He was starting to build a map of his new world.
"I'm having trouble even with basic things," Kazuya added, setting the stage for future questions. "I might ask some 'stupid' things down the line."
Falk laughed, slapping Kazuya on the back. "Don't sweat it! I'm pretty simple myself."
They reached a house that looked like any other, except for the faint, pungent scent of dried herbs wafting from the window.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Falk knocked three times. After a moment of shuffling sounds, the door swung open to reveal a tall man with messy dark hair and glasses with no frame along the top edge. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, his dark tunic stained with various colorful juices.
"Falk, good to see you," the man said, his voice deep and melodic. "How have you been?"
"Fine, Master Orin. This is Kazuya. Sir Aldric sent him to assist us."
Orin's eyes brightened behind his lenses. He reached out, his grip surprisingly firm. "My work is quite demanding, so I really appreciate your help."
"The pleasure is mine," Kazuya replied.
Inside, the house was a chaotic sanctuary of knowledge. Books were piled in precarious towers, and tables were covered in glass vials containing liquids ranging from sapphire blue to a muddy, suspicious brown. The smell was intense, a mixture of mint with a bitter undertone.
Orin ushered them to a small table and set down three cups of steaming green liquid.
"Are you afraid?" Orin asked, noticing Kazuya's hesitation. He chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "It's just a tea I brewed earlier. Please, give me your feedback."
Falk drained his cup in three gulps. "Ahhh! Master, you're getting better at this!"
Kazuya took a cautious sip. His eyes widened. It wasn't tea as he knew it; it had a floral sweetness followed by a sharp, invigorating kick that made his skin tingle. "It's incredible," he said, and for once, he wasn't entirely lying.
Orin looked pleased. "Good, good."
As Orin disappeared into a back room to find something, Kazuya leaned toward Falk, lowering his voice. "So, Falk, what exactly does a typical day look like for us? Sir Aldric said something about protection, but I've never... well, I don't remember ever being a guard."
Falk leaned back, looking at his callused palms. "It's not as glorious as it sounds, but it's more intense than farming. See, Master Orin is special because he has a Foci, he's also extremely knowledgeable. But physically? He's about as sturdy as a wet piece of parchment. If a bone hound so much as sneezes on him, he's done for."
Kazuya nodded, absorbing the term bone hound. "So we just stand around while he picks flowers?"
"If only," Falk snorted. "The plants Master Orin needs don't grow in manicured gardens. They grow in places where the canopy is so thick the sun barely touches the ground. That's where the nastier beasts like to hang out. My job, and now yours too, is to be his eyes and ears."
Falk leaned in closer, his expression more serious. "The most important rule? Don't let him wander off. Sometimes he sees a rare moss and starts running toward it like a madman, completely ignoring the cliff or the pack of predators right in front of him. You have to be the one to grab his collar and pull him back. Think you can handle that, even with your memory being a mess?"
Kazuya stared at the swirling tea leaves in his cup. "I'll do my best."
"Good," Falk grinned. "You'll also have to help him with the processing. Cleaning the dirt off the roots, grinding the dried leaves... it's tedious, but Master Orin will talk your ear off about the properties of every single petal. Just nod and pretend you understand. It makes him happy."
Kazuya smiled internally. A job that involved constant information-gathering under the guise of an assistant? It was perfect. "I think I'll learn a lot from him."
"Oh, you'll learn plenty," Falk said, his grin widening. "Mostly how many different ways a plant can poison you."
Orin returned just then, unrolling a sheet of yellowed leather onto a cleared table. It was a map, though the lines were shaky and lacked detail.
"Master Orin, what's this?" Falk asked, leaning in.
"A map of the northern forest section," Orin said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I bought it for a pittance from a merchant who thought it was a child's doodle. He didn't know what he had."
Falk's brows furrowed deeply at Orin's words, giving him a weird, slightly judgmental look. "Master..."
Orin realized his wording made him sound a bit predatory and quickly fixed it. "Don't get any wrong ideas! I didn't scam him. He just didn't know the value of this map, that's all, and I took the chance to buy it cheaply. No one will blame me for taking such an opportunity."
Falk remained silent, clearly still a bit skeptical about the ethics of the deal. Kazuya spoke up to break the tension. "If it's valuable and was sold so easily, couldn't it be a scam on you? Like a fake map?"
Orin shook his head. "The price was too low for a profit, if he wanted to scam me, he would've bled me dry. Even if it's fake, the risk was low, but the potential benefit is massive."
"What's so special about this forest?" Falk asked, finally looking back at the map.
Orin smiled, slamming his finger down on a specific spot. "Because right here... two Class 5 maniacs once fought."