'It's beautiful.'
Thorsten was entranced by the flowers before him, to the point that Ferzen taken to guiding him forward by placing his hand on his back and nudging him along the path.
He led them deeper into the field, not through a paved path but a simple parting in the flowers before them.
As they walked past, Thorsten became further enraptured by the flowers as their petals changed colour and shifted hues with every step he took; going from clear, to a honey gold then a deep, whine red as he passed by.
His eyes trailed over the filed to observe the different colours that would appear, taking in as many hues as his eyes could observe before they changed once again.
And before he knew it, they were now standing in front of a cozy looking, wooden bench sitting in the shade of a large tree.
As he came to his senses, Thorsten couldn't help but be confused as to why they were here.
Thorsten turned to his father to ask, but before he could get all the words out, his words failed him as his eyes were drawn to the intricately designed case of the pocket watch in Ferzen's hand.
The silver metal was engraved with a single mountain rising behind a shield, two swords crossed discreetly behind it.
Thorsten was able to recognise it as the Baylith family's crest—a symbol of their allegiance and duty to the empire.
"Looking at the time, you're already twenty-five minutes late for your lesson."
Ferzen snapped his watch closed with a soft metallic click, slipped it back into his vest pocket, and moved to sit on the bench.
"So, instead of half a lesson now, wouldn't it be better to do an extra one later?"
'Is he telling me to ditch class with him?'
Thorsten couldn't help but blink in surprise at his words, but with no reason to turn him down—as well as him being his only way out of here—all he could do was nod his head and move to sit down.
He was a little nervous on what to do if Ferzen started to speak to him, but thankfully, other than giving him a reason to stay, Ferzen had yet to say anything else.
Internally he was relieved, but he tried not to show it on his face and instead turned his attention to the flowers around them.
Now that they were being viewed from a still position, the iridescent colours being reflected by the petals had ceased its constant flux and settled on a light shade of indigo.
Thorsten drew in a slow breath, the sweet scent of the flowers easing the tension from his body.
He couldn't tell if the flowers had some sort of calming effect or if he was just finally able to relax but being here made him feel at ease after the tiring start to his day.
But the longer he spent looking at the flowers, the more the feeling grew, and with it, came a budding sense of relief.
'This is nice.' He thought to himself, taking in the field that looked as if it was glowing in the afternoon sunlight.
Finally able to relax, he let out a deep breath and slouched against the bench, letting it hold his weight and set his sights on the blue sky above.
Maybe it was because he wasn't used to it, but staring at the flowers for too long was starting to cause a headache.
So, he set his sights on a passing cloud and simply began to bask in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden.
"–sten... –ile..."
But before long, that same headache returned, bringing with it an unfamiliar that seemed to echo loudly in his mind.
The words were jumbled and incomplete, but even without being able to make out their meaning, there was a clear warmth and affeection that carried through despite that.
Thorsten tried to resist and maintain his composure, trying his best to keep it hidden from Ferzen, but he felt his expression slipping against his will.
Back on Earth, he had learned to control his expressions—an essential skill when dealing with difficult superiors or uncomfortable situations.
But that control had belonged to a different body.
Despite his best efforts, the mask slipped, and he was forced to sit up and turn away before Ferzen could notice.
His eyes began frantically scanning his surroundings, looking for something—anything—to keep his mind off the pain.
The remedy he was searching for came when his eyes landed on the edge of the field, in the shadow of a twisted large tree where the flower petals had an azure glow, focusing on them caused the pain to lessen.
This brief reprieve allowed him to regain enough clarity to 'see' what was being shown to him; they were memories, as well as the feelings felt when he had experienced those moments.
He clenched his teeth and tried to make sense of what was happening. But before he could properly gather himself, the memories resurfaced.
It felt different from the initial memory transfer. Back then, it was like his mind was being cracked open and forcefully fed with someone else's memories, but this was different.
The pain he was feeling was undeniable, but at the very least, he was still lucid enough to process what was happening and what he was seeing—feeling.
Memories that were joyful and warm.
It was as if he had the entire world in his hands, and feeling the emotions through him, that might have been the case.
Which was why he couldn't make sense of the sticky feeling that came with these memories.
It was if they had been plastered on to cover a deep, painful scar.
He felt his mind begin to clear as he navigated the scenes flashing past his mind.
The woman's face was still blurry, but he could make out the radiant smile she had on her face.
And when he caught a glimpse of her eyes, he saw the reflection of a boy smiling back at her with his own smiling face.
It was him. Thorsten. Younger, and wearing a bright smile that seemed unfitting for the character he had known in the game.
Another memory began to play before he could finish his thought. This one was longer, and it was of this woman leading him through a garde, this garden.
Thorsten's memories with her began to flash by, and in each of them she was always smiling and the Thorsten in them was always smiling back.
There were some where it looked like she was scolding him, but even then, the smile on her face never truly went away.
But as the memories continued to flash by, he noticed her once blurry features begin to appear more clearly.
The resemblance was clear; blue eyes and brown hair, and although his hair was a bit darker, Thorsten had definitely inherited her smile.
She was beautiful.
That was clear to see even as she laid there on her death bed. And her smile, although weakened by illness, still carried an unforgettable warmth.
She gave Thorsten's hand a gentle squeeze and wiped away the tears streaming down his face.
"My brave boy… don't look so sad." She said, her voice carrying a warmth that belied her cold hands.
"Now, let me see that smile."
She raised a shaky hand to gently wipe away the tears on his face. "Keep that smile… no matter what."
Her hand was cold in his, but he didn't pull away—afraid that if he did, she would vanish from his sight.
And with tears streaming down his face, he smiled the best he could and gave her hand a small, gentle squeeze.
Afraid that if he gripped too tight, her hand would shatter like glass.
From there, the rest of Thorsten's memories of her were blurred by his tear-filled eyes.
But despite the pain clawing at his chest, he refused to shed a single tear before her; she had told him to be strong. And he intended to see her off with a smile, just as she had always shown him.
Even when her body was lowered into the earth and her soul entrusted to the goddess, he did not cry.
He saw her off with a smile.
Like she would have done.