Scene 133 — "Where Am I?"
A soft breeze drifted through the open window.
The scent of unfamiliar flowers filled the room.
The Traveler's breathing became steadier.
His fingers moved.
Once.
Then again.
Silence lingered.
Slowly—
his eyes opened.
The wooden ceiling above him came into focus.
Not stone.
Not crystal.
Wood.
He remained still.
Listening.
A fireplace crackled somewhere nearby.
The faint sound of footsteps echoed beyond the room.
His brow furrowed.
"..."
This was not the mountain.
Not the underground kingdom.
Not the silver fields.
He slowly sat upright.
The movement pulled gently at the bandages across his chest.
The wounds ached, but his body answered him.
He looked down.
Fresh bandages.
Clean clothing.
Someone had treated his injuries.
His eyes swept across the small room.
A wooden table.
A clay cup filled with water.
A folded cloak.
His hood.
Placed neatly beside the bed.
"...Where..."
His voice was quiet.
"...am I?"
No answer came.
The Traveler stood.
His balance held.
A dull ache remained throughout his body, but he was no longer on the edge of collapse.
He reached for his hood and placed it over his white hair.
The familiar shadow covered much of his face once more.
Carefully, he stepped toward the doorway.
The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet.
Outside the room—
another set of footsteps stopped.
The younger girl had been carrying a small bowl of warm broth.
She looked up.
The bowl nearly slipped from her hands.
"..."
The white-haired stranger was standing in the doorway.
Awake.
For several heartbeats, neither of them spoke.
The Traveler's eyes met hers.
A stranger.
Someone he had never seen before.
Without thinking, he took a step backward.
Instinct.
Caution.
Distance.
His calm voice broke the silence.
"...Who are you?"
The girl blinked.
Surprised that his first question wasn't about his injuries.
Before she could answer—
the brother emerged from another room.
He stopped immediately.
"...He's awake."
The Traveler's gaze shifted.
Another stranger.
His body retreated another step.
Measured.
Controlled.
Never taking his eyes off either of them.
Then the elder sister appeared.
She looked from the Traveler...
...to the untouched bandages...
...to the fact that he was already standing.
A brief look of relief crossed her face.
The Traveler glanced between the three unfamiliar faces.
None carried weapons.
None looked hostile.
Yet he knew none of them.
His voice remained calm.
"...Who are all of you?"
The three siblings exchanged glances.
The younger girl was the first to recover.
She lowered the bowl carefully.
"...We found you."
The Traveler remained silent.
The brother nodded toward the bed.
"You were unconscious."
"For two days."
The Traveler's eyes narrowed slightly.
Two days.
Fragments surfaced.
A gate.
A scream.
Black flame.
Then...
Nothing.
Only darkness.
His hand unconsciously brushed the bandages across his chest.
His expression remained composed, but confusion settled behind his eyes.
He slowly looked around the unfamiliar house once more.
The quiet room.
The strangers.
The scent of herbs.
None of it belonged to any place he remembered.
For the first time since opening his eyes—
he realized one simple truth.
He had awakened in a world that was completely unfamiliar.
And the three people standing before him believed they had rescued nothing more than an injured human traveler.