What kind of world am I living in?! Fyar covered his face with both palms, his brow deeply furrowed. He had thought the world he’d landed in was a normal, happy fantasy world. At worst, the threats would be monsters or a demon king trying to take over. He could accept problems like that. However, the fact that this was the only remaining human kingdom was far more horrifying to him.
Fyar took a long, deep breath, trying to calm his slightly quickened heartbeat. He lowered his hands and returned to his relaxed, leaning posture, putting on a calm expression as if he were completely unaffected. In a flat voice, he asked Zaefal, "How did it end up like this?"
Zaefal was silent for a mont. His gaze drifted toward the blue-leafed trees in the distance before he finally answered. "Honestly, I don’t know. I have my own theories, but that’s all they are."
Fyar leaned forward slightly, his eyebrows raised. "Why don’t you know? There must be history books about this world or sothing, right?"
Zaefal shook his head slowly, his voice growing heavier. "When I first found out about it, I also asked my parents." He paused, his expression hardening as he recalled sothing.
"They didn’t know either. At the academy, there were no history lessons that told of such things. Our history lessons only covered the peace between humans and the various races a hundred years ago, and the peace with the demons thirty years ago. My teacher said that studying deep human history is forbidden."
"Forbidden?" Fyar repeated the word. His eyes stared at Zaefal intently, listening closely.
Zaefal nodded. "Yes. My teacher once told that a long ti ago, there was soone who tried to spread the history of humans before the year 4397." Zaefal paused again, creating a tense silence.
"What happened to him?" Fyar asked, unable to hold back his curiosity.
"He died of a strange illness. His house and all his possessions mysteriously disappeared. No one knows for sure what really happened to him."
Poor man. I can guess what happened to him. Fyar bit his lower lip. But, what are they hiding that they would forbid people from studying their own history? Just like Zaefal, I have a few theories in my head, but they’re all too horrifying to be true. He let out a long sigh, releasing the tension in his chest. "I understand."
"Is there anything else you want to ask?" Zaefal said as he began to pack up his belongings.
Fyar thought for a mont, placing a hand over his mouth. After a few seconds, he said, "I actually wanted to ask about how magic and Hunter powers work, but it seems we won’t have enough ti. It’s already too late in the afternoon. So, I’ll just ask, what year is it now?"
mory loss is a terrifying thing. To even forget the year. Poor man, Zaefal thought, looking at Fyar with a sympathetic gaze. "It’s 4997."
Zaefal then stood up. "Alright, let’s end today’s training here. I have sothing I need to take care of. Tomorrow, just co here directly like usual."
Fyar nodded and waved his hand. "See you tomorrow."
Zaefal returned the nod, then walked away, leaving Fyar alone.
That evening at the inn, Fyar ordered his new favorite al, grilled fish, and tried a new drink, hot chocolate. He chose a table in the farthest corner, sat alone, and slowly enjoyed his food and drink. The atmosphere inside the bar was warm and lively.
From where he sat, he could see a couple, a human man and an elf woman, chatting and smiling with enthusiasm.
It must be nice to have an elf girlfriend. I wish you two happiness!, he thought with a small smile, then shifted his gaze.
At a table not far from his, a group of male adventurers were roaring with laughter while telling each other jokes. Fyar could overhear so of their conversation.
"What’s bigger? t King’s sword or His determination!"
"Why can’t knights lie? Because they’re always straight to the point!"
Fyar had to stop himself from laughing along at the cheesy jokes. He took another sip of his hot chocolate, feeling its sweetness and warmth spread through his body. He smiled gently.
So many different lives gathered in one room. Full of laughter, stories, and warmth.
It’s beautiful. Maybe I’m worrying too much?
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