Nearly a full day had passed since he began his journey. The pangs of hunger and thirst gnawed at him, his vision dimmed, and his knees buckled beneath him. The endurance was waning, and Alden could bear it no longer. He crumpled to the ground.

Lying prone on the unforgiving earth, his eyes flickered open intermittently, only to close again. The scorching sun had not only parched his throat but also tormented his skin, intensifying Alden's suffering. The passage of time had blurred his sense of reality, as he teetered on the brink of semi-consciousness. At times, he closed his eyes as though succumbing to sweet slumber, only to jolt awake with the unsettling notion that this could very well be his "final sleep." Straining with all his might, he attempted to pry open his heavy eyelids, rallying against the inexorable pull of unconsciousness.

As Alden slowly unveiled his eyelids, he questioned whether he was caught in a dream. An air of trepidation enveloped him as he gazed upon a magnificent being, which bore the resemblance of a lion, although Alden couldn't be certain due to the creature's distinct attire—a gleaming, emerald-hued armor.

The armor gracefully tapered from the creature's shoulders to its muscular limbs, adorned with ornate textures. Its helmet exhibited a vibrant array of colors, featuring shades of red, yellow, and blue. At a cursory glance, the helmet bore a resemblance to a peacock, its colorful components composed of cascading, upward-curving feathers that extended from the helmet's peak and trailed along the creature's neck. The verdant scales of the armor ceased at the creature's back, giving way to a resplendent, golden mane, which extended down to its tail. Alden couldn't help but wonder, was that a saddle nestled within the central expanse of the mane?

His eyelids succumbed to the embrace of sleep once more, rendering him powerless to resist its sweet allure. But then, a voice—delicate and youthful, a woman's voice—penetrated his fading consciousness. He summoned the last vestiges of his strength to pry open his eyes, a task that had grown increasingly arduous. There, beside the enigmatic creature, stood the woman, resplendent in her own armor, helmet, and sword.

A fleeting thought crossed Alden's mind: "A warrior woman?" He studied her for a few brief moments, recognizing that his struggle with heavy eyelids was futile. He lay motionless, and the gradual flush spreading across his hand and face did not escape her attention. The young woman uttered, "Oh my God! What the hell is this?" as her fingers alighted on Alden's thigh. Realizing his continued breath, she carefully offered him water from the canteen at his waist. Gently, she hoisted him onto the lion's sturdy back.

Alden's eyes could no longer oblige his will, leaving him to perceive only the rhythmic swaying. The scent of earth enveloped him, his nostrils filled with the fragrance of sand. Weary and grateful for the presence of the enigmatic woman—uncertain if she was real or a figment of his imagination—he surrendered to the impending slumber that beckoned.

Alden's eyelids fluttered open to reveal the most comfortable bed he had ever experienced. The first sight that greeted him was a slender ray of sunlight gently caressing his toes, filtering in from a window to his right. His eyes stung as he glanced at the glass, prompting him to shield them with his arm. Throat parched and desperate for relief, he cried out in a hoarse voice, "Water! I need water!"

It didn't take long for the woman who had come to his rescue to appear, bearing a flask. With a warm smile, she extended it to Alden, and he wasted no time in taking the flask and savoring its life-giving contents.

"You seem incredibly thirsty," the young woman inquired.

"I," Alden began breathlessly after draining the flask, "this is the first time I've been out in the sun. To tell you the truth, I didn't realize the surface was so hot."

The woman furrowed her brow, trying to grasp his words. "W-What do you mean?" she asked with sharp curiosity. "When you say 'the surface,' what exactly do you mean?"

"This place, up here..."

"Where do you come from?"

"I come from the city beneath the earth, Meung’burg."

"Meung’burg? Are you joking?"

"What's so funny?"

"Are you serious?"

"I don't understand why you're so surprised."

"Because there... it's just a myth. Nobody here believes in the Undercity."

"Well, I'm shocked! I was born and raised in Meung’burg. It's my home, but somehow I suddenly found myself up here on the surface. In fact... I want to confess something to you, but I'm afraid..."

"Why are you hesitant?"

"We haven't even met yet!"

"Ah... That's true! I'm Simalri. I'm one of the guards of Koa Village."

"And I am Liet Alden. I'm a writer."

"Wow, a writer?"

"Yes."

"You know, I haven't read many books. Actually, books aren't very popular in our village. Still, I'd love to read what you've written."

"Of course! Can you hand me my bag?" Simalri retrieved the shabby bag from Alden's bedside and handed it to him. He took out a book with a deep blue emerald stone in the center of the cover and passed it to her. As Simalri flipped through the pages, her expression shifted to one of astonishment. Observing her reaction, Alden attempted to understand what was happening.

"What's wrong? Is something amiss?"

"I... I'm not sure how to put this, Alden..."

" ... ?"

"These pages are all blank," Simalri stated, turning the book to face Alden and displaying the empty sheets. Initially surprised, Alden then sighed deeply and nodded.

"This is what I wanted to confess to you."

"Excuse me?"

"I have some form of amnesia. Some of my memories are very faint. Many of them are even... everything is so blurred that sometimes I get confused about who I am. Maybe I'm not even a writer. I don't know."

"I-I don't know what to say... How long has this been going on?"

"I don't remember that either."

"Do you remember anything from before I found you? Where were you? What were you doing?"

"I was... I was falling. Yes, yes! I was falling, hitting the branches of the trees until I reached the ground completely."

"Where were you falling from?"

"I don't remember."

"Well, I won't tire you out any further; just get some more rest," she said and turned to leave the room. However, she halted when Alden called out to her.

"Hey, Simalri!"

"?”

"Thank you."

Simalri offered a warm smile and exited the room, leaving Alden to recuperate in solitude.

The following day, Alden rose from his bed, his skin bearing signs of peeling and reddening in certain areas. Feeling uncomfortable, he ventured for a walk through the village. As he moved hesitantly, the villagers cast peculiar glances his way, and his gaze tirelessly scanned for Simalri. He searched and searched, yet she remained elusive. In the end, he resolved to inquire among the villagers.

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"I'm in search of someone named Simalri, do you know her?" Alden asked an elderly man.

The old man cast a sidelong glance at Alden and spoke in a trembling voice, "What village are you from?"

"Well... " Alden, momentarily uncertain of what to say, recalled Simalri's mention of Meung’burg and replied, "I'm not from around here. I've come from a distant place."

"From where I come, we hardly see the sun. That's why my skin is so pale."

"Hmm... is that so?"

"Yes, actually, everyone in our community carries this special sunblock," he said, displaying the glass bottle on his belt to the old man, "so that if we go out in the sun, we can apply this to avoid getting harmed."

"That's quite unusual."

"Well?"

"What?"

"I asked if you knew Simalri."

"Oh, but of course!"

"And?"

"If you'd inquired about one of the men, I might have been of help, but I'm sorry, I don't know her."

"?!”

After engaging in conversation with a few more villagers, Alden concluded that this place and its residents were indeed quite intriguing. He decided that the best course of action was to wait patiently for Simalri.

Upon his return to Simalri's house, Alden anxiously searched for his sword, but it was nowhere to be found. His growing panic suggested the sword held a peculiar value for him. Suddenly, he heard the outer door being flung open with urgency. Curiosity led him to the house's entrance, revealing three guards, similar to Simalri, standing outside. Among them were two women and one man.

"Liet Alden!" one of them called.

"Yes?" Alden replied.

"You are coming with us!" he declared, and before Alden could pose any questions, they escorted him toward the village's central administration building. Reaching the building, Alden felt the odd gazes of the villagers upon him, and the guards left him in a vast room on the upper floor. Seated across from him was an elderly man.

"Please, take a seat," he said, indicating a wooden chair for Alden.

Alden, still perplexed, inquired, "Who are you? Why have you brought me here?"

"This is the village of Koa, and I am the village leader, Koa’tan. But the real question is who are you?"

"I am Liet Alden. And... " Alden hesitated to divulge his origin, but he felt an inexplicable urge to be candid with him. Koa'tan gazed into Alden's eyes as though he already knew everything.

"And?" Koa'tan prodded.

"I... I'm from Meung’burg."

"Hmm."

"And I think... " Alden continued.

"What do you think?" Koa’tan inquired.

"I think I have amnesia, so if I've made a mistake, you can be sure it wasn't intentional."

"So, amnesia, huh?" Koa’tan remarked.

"Yes."

"And do you remember this?" Koa’tan retrieved Alden's sword from the desk drawer in front of him, careful not to touch it with his bare hands. Using a piece of parchment, he held the sword's tip and set it on the table. "This is my sword!"

"Wow! It is yours?" Alden exclaimed.

"Y-Yes. I found it."

"So you found it... Do you know how to use it?"

"Y-yes. I mean, I think... "

"And how do you use it?"

"I don't know. I stab the enemy."

"So you stab them, huh?"

"Y-yes, but why are you asking me all this, and why do you have this?"

"A guard named Simalri gave it to me."

"!?"

"Don't be so surprised. It's not every day that people see swords emitting light. She also grew wary of your odd behavior and thought the sword might pose a danger to the village, so she came to me."

"But why did she help me then?"

"Help you?"

"I almost died, she saved my life."

"Look, Liet, I'll be honest with you. In this land of islands, we have just three or five villages. Our male population is meager in comparison to the female population, which forces women into the role of warriors out of necessity. So it's a rare occurrence for a female guard to encounter a man from beyond her own village. If Simalri was initially misguided and extended a helping hand, she swiftly realized the correct course of action and reported to me."

"Are you saying that Simalri has feelings for me?"

"Don't misconstrue it. It's not love. It's a form of responsibility."

"W-That's unfortunate!"

"You think so?"

"Enough of that now! What do you want from me?"

"To depart."

"Go away?"

"Yes. I want you to take this sword and leave this village, and this place entirely."

"But what have I done to you? Why are you banishing me? I don't understand."

"You don’t, huh?" Koa’tan selected a book from the upper shelves in his room, which was encompassed by bookshelves. He placed it in front of Alden and requested that he read the inscription on the book's cover. There was an entirely different script on the book's cover.

"What does this say?" Alden examined it as if seeing it for the first time, but suddenly, the word "Huratanla!" escaped his lips. He marveled at himself for being able to read the writing.

"White-skinned, Huratanla-speaking, Meung’burg Liet Alden... "

"Huratanla?"

"You are a dangerous individual. You do not even comprehend your own peril. That's why I want you to leave."

"I-It's very strange. I don't know why, but I think you're right. I'll go... "

"Thank you for not being uncooperative. Now, take your sword and go."

"I've already agreed to go, but how am I to find my way back home?"

"Nah! You're asking the wrong person. Meung’burg is nothing but a legend to us."

Alden retrieved the sword and secured it in his waistband before exiting the building, overwhelmed by a sense of despair. As he neared the building's exit, he encountered Simalri waiting for him, her face marked with embarrassment. She cautiously approached Alden, her words weighed with remorse.

"I... I never intended for this to happen. I was only trying to fulfill my duties... I'm deeply sorry, Alden."

"No need," he replied.

"?"

"He requested that I leave, that's all."

"And you're really going to leave?!"

"What other choice do I have?"

Simalri's countenance grew solemn, and she stood silently for a few moments. Finally, she took a deep breath and asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I need someone familiar with Meung’burg."

"How did you manage to get out from there?"

"There's a place called the Zar’Ikat Pit. It's the only part of Meung’burg that leads directly to the outside world. I believe I came through there, though I can't recall the details."

"Do you remember anything about the appearance of this pit from the outside? Any landmarks or terrain features, perhaps?"

"I do know it's situated between two grand mountains, but I can't picture what they look like."

"Very well! Having that information might prove useful."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes. On the neighboring island, there's Mata village. The leader there is the only female village leader. She's both knowledgeable and welcoming. I believe she will assist you."

"That would be incredible, but how will I get across the sea? I've never seen the sea before in my life."

"At the village's exit, take the road to your right and descend. You'll find boatmen there, and they'll ferry you across."

"Simalri!"

"?"

"Thank you," Alden said, slowly turning around and heading out. But Simalri called out to him.

"Writer Alden!"

"?"

"I'd love to read your stories someday."

"You've seen the state of the book. I've written nothing. Maybe I'm not even a writer."

"You won't know until you write!"

"What do you mean?"

"You have to write!" Simalri's words stirred something within Alden. It was as though he had finally found someone who wanted to read what he had written. He couldn't even recall if he had ever written before, but the urge was undeniable. A subtle stirring in his chest, like a percussionist in his heart, a thousand sparks dancing in his quivering stomach... the burning desire to write.

"I promise! I'll give it a shot!" He turned around and set off for the village across.