"Now lay that boy over there with Clara. Here she comes! She'll take care of him."

"Ok-"

"Oh, you poor young boys! Jeevan! Why didn't you bring them earlier?"

"Now now. We just welcomed them so no need to burst a bubble."

"Should we move the boy to the wall?"

'The wall...?'

"No, he's too young for that. Take him to your tent."

"Alright alright then. Give him here!"

"Wait-" Hope began.

A middle-aged lady's hands flurried forward and removed the young boy from Hope's grasp, leaving him empty-handed as he stood there blankly.

"Oh, and your hand!" The lady, Clara most likely—a robust one at that—gaped at Hope's wounds.

"I'm fine-"

"Here take some bandages. And this as well. Do you need a needle?"

"No this is fine..."

"We don't want that infected now do we?"

"There's no-"

"I have just the thing."

"You don't-"

"Here it is!"

Hope pulled his hand away before the lady laid another product in his hand. "That's enough."

She frowned. "Alright then..." Her eyes widened as a new thought crossed her mind. "Oh- And tell me what's the boy's name?"

Hope blinked. "Adam."

"Why, he is lucky to have you as a brother. Both of you are."

Hope's eyebrow twitched. 'No no no. No.'

"We're not related-"

"I'll tell him about you when he wakes. Jeevan! Feed this boy too!" Hope's arm was rattled by the lady's firm hand as she called out to the old man, even though he stood only a couple paces away. "Do you enjoy watching the young break?"

Hope frowned at the touch.

"Yes yes I know! Come on, boy. My tent is just next over." Jeevan gently guided Hope away by the shoulder.

Hope eyed at the wrinkly fingers.

"Now sit here. Good. And I'll...Hm. Let me just find the matches...Ah! Here it is."

"..."

Too noisy.

Everything bustled and rustled with such unfamiliar energy that Hope felt out of place.

The moment Hope stepped into the crowd, the moment Master Leda left him in the care of the old man's hands, every noise and interaction overwhelmed him like a swarming wave. Hell, it was even more overwhelming than fighting a horde of monsters.

Hope sat in an open tarp tent as the old man set down Hope's rifle and backpack. He then shakily grabbed one of the matches in his tent before striking it down and sparking a flame. Not long after, a small fire breathed to life, licking and crackling in the tight space, warming up Hope's boots and fingers with a soft greeting that easily fought the cold he had so long adapted to over the past week.

The old man hummed a tune, his nose wrinkling as he knelt near Hope, and reached into one of his bags and brought out a clump of meat. Hope blinked as he recognized the meat belonging to a Nightmare Creature—the familiar strange blood and flesh that was purplish with streaks of red in between juiced out as the old man punctured it with a stick and hung it over the fire.

Hope looked down and nonchalantly wrapped the bandages around his right hand up to his forearm. Finally, he was able to manage the wound after applying the ointment the lady gave him.

The coolness of his damp clothes also started to properly dry thread by thread until it felt like a warm blanket sun-bathed in summer.

'But it's winter.'

Hope looked around.

And surprisingly, no one was starving.

The buzz of constant voices eased into laughter and whispers. But when some looked long enough in Hope's direction, fear and fascination bloomed on their faces. Some expressions repeated after they looked away for a little while. As their eyes fell on him again, it was as if they saw him for the first time.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"You a fighter, boy?"

Hope turned his gaze to the old man who continued to hum a strange tune as he busied himself with the small fire, a delicious smoky aroma emanating from the meat.

"I suppose I am."

"Not just anyone could act the way you did."

"Instinct really."

"Too bad my bones won't respond the same way. Maybe I'm all good for fear than action." He chuckled as he raised the meat off the fire and handed the stick to Hope. "But we all do our part don't we? At least I try to."

Szzzzz-

The meat sizzled. Fresh off the grill as they would say. But what was a grill?

"Here you go."

The old man said with the corners of his lips raised.

Hope simply nodded before accepting the stick and stared at the meat's cooked layer.

A brown reddish hue was crisped over as the heat sprang and pressed against his face. His stomach was already cramping from the smell alone before he opened his mouth and bit into the flesh. Warm salty juices ran from the bite, an intense rich flavor coating his tongue as he chewed. A pain stabbed in the back of his mouth as he salivated from the long-awaited meal that finally satisfied his hunger.

Did Nightmare Creatures taste this good when cooked?

Weird. But tasty. Better than what the army had served. And there was no additional seasoning from the old man.

Simple. Just the way he preferred.

Before Hope knew it, he felt his teeth gnash onto the stick and the sound of wood splintered in his mouth.

Jeevan chuckled. "Slow down boy. Don't want to get indigestion, do you?"

Hope paused as a memory crossed his mind. But dismissed it.

"No, old man."

"We got plenty more. Hunters have plenty to hunt for with that fortunate incident. Honestly saved our bellies."

He hummed again as he prepared another clump of meat on a stick, a little too carefree.

The incident at Sector Two's border seemed to become distant to the old man. Or perhaps the confirmation from the Master herself was enough to lessen any of his worries about Hope's admission. He treated him as if he were a familiar neighbor.

Hope licked the grease off his fingers. 'But fortunate huh.'

Hope supposed that the monster gate from a month ago had its perks.

But still. A strange choice of words.

Hope's eyes flitted towards all the other animated heads and carried voices that filled the great hall.

Some eyes Hope again came across then leapt way from the contact and tried to feign indifference, but Hope could see them watching from the edges of their vision.

Eventually, their faces slowly relaxed again, as if a burden were lifted and pushed into the back of their minds.

Hope frowned at the repeated reactions as if he were in a looped time.

His Flaw made more sense now. He could see it working its magic on the ones who forget. Then remembered.

And forget again...

But the reactions were a different matter.

It was always a mix of uncertainty or curiosity, a gaze that one would find staring at a new creature for the first time rather than staring at a stranger. As if he were truly a strange anomaly.

Hope had purposefully decided to not mention himself as a soldier before—not that he looked much of one anymore. And his chest rig didn't have any army emblem of the sort. That topic could wait with his conversation with Master Leda.

So, what else caused it?

'Mm...'

Hope felt like he already knew.

But he would rather not tap into those runes again just because he thought of it-

Bzzzcch-

"..."

'Oh for fuck's sake...'

Hope narrowed his eyes as two of his Attributes weaved out in front of him.

[Tears of Sorrow] Attribute Description...

[Chimera] Attribute Description...

"..."

Hope blatantly stared forward as the [Tears of Sorrow] Attribute hovered close to his face like a mocking ghost.

[...No rest, no respite, no escape from the relentless march of time and thought...]

"Something wrong, boy?"

Hope was pinching the bridge of his nose and taking deep breaths when the old man asked.

"An annoying migraine is all."

"...oh...?"

Hope peered between his fingers, staring at the other damn Attribute that was also his problem.

Well. All of them were anyway.

[Chimera] Attribute Description: "Chimeras carry a complex nature about themselves. An illusory possession of both beauty and deformity, of promise and peril. A duality that stands in stark contrast within."

"..."

'The fuck am I supposed to do with that?'

Chimeras?

Tsk. What did that word even mean? Hope hadn't even heard such a strange word used in his department or from any stories from fellow soldiers.

Hope frowned as he stared at the scornful runes. He then looked up at the ceiling. Not exactly admiring the architecture but imagining the Spell's damned self either floating in the air or hiding cruelly behind the sky's constellations at his misfortunes.

Real or not. Machine or entity.

Hope's desire still stands. If he could, he would knock down its domain and demand bloody answers from it.

'Damn Spell.'

"Excuse me, boy..."

Hope swept a hand in the air to dismiss the runes. "Yes, old man?"

Jeevan paused. Then awkwardly smiled. "Can I ask what your name is?"

'Ah.'

"It's Hope."

A flicker of amusement crossed his eyes. "I see..." His smile widened. "I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Jeevan." He said as he handed another stick of meat.

Hope nonchalantly grabbed the stick and nodded in acknowledgment before eating into the juicy flesh. This time, he did so more slowly enough to appreciate the flavors and texture. He may be able to relive it in his memories, but that wasn't going to fill his belly.

But some weird softness passed in the old man's eyes as he watched Hope indulge in his meal.

Hope swallowed before speaking. "Something you want to ask me?"

"Well..." Jeevan tilted his head. "Forgive me. But you have unusual eyes. Mind you that may be another reason why people are gawking at you," laughed the old man.

Hope paused between bites.

He hadn't seen his appearance in a while. Of course, he had the idea of stains here and there. His hair was much more back to its original color without the grime and blood. But his eyes?

'Hmm...' Hope hummed in thought.

There was only one instance he could recall back to of the last time he saw his eyes.

But as he recalled back—before he could even regret it in time—a dark memory shadowed over his mind.

It was the time when he was in his Soul Sea; the time when the wretched Spell spoke '[Water has memory]'; the time when he remembered everything all at once that tore his mind and body; when he fell to the floor and saw his eyes in his rippling reflection. Yes. It was that time-

!!!

The old man reared back.

"H-Hope, are you alright!?"

Hope was clutching his face, feeling his tongue sting from his bite. "I'm fine..."

"You're bleeding! Ah- Tissue! Tissue- No a cloth. Here! Wipe your mouth."

Hope grabbed the cloth the old man handed and wiped the blood leaking from his mouth.

'Bad idea. Fucking. Bad. Idea.'

"Sigh..."

Hope didn't have to look back up to see more heads turn and watch the commotion.