Chapter 4
“I don’t think that’s relevant right now…”
He finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper.
He preferred to steer clear of conversations about the past he had only just begun to escape. The thought of revisiting those memories felt like opening a door to a dark room, a place where he had once felt trapped.
“I can see that her presence here causes you discomfort, young master.”
“Uh…”
He paused, his gaze darting between his surroundings and the person sitting across from him.
In reality, that wasn’t his only reason. He wanted to examine the mirror and its handle while they were absent, to ensure that nothing had changed since the last time he had examined it. Fortunately, the man chose not to pursue the issue any further.
Alistair leaned back in his chair, projecting an air of nonchalance.
“To be clear, you are what we call as a “Traveler.””
The man spoke with a calm and tranquil tone, as if he were simply remarking on the weather rather than discussing the serious implications of their conversation.
“That still doesn’t answer my question.”
He pressed, his patience wearing thin.
“It would, provided you permit me to elaborate completely without any interruptions.”
The man countered, his tone firm yet measured.
He quickly stopped speaking, the man’s intense gaze causing him to reconsider his stance. This person radiated a certain intimidation, he thought. The kind that becomes truly scary when challenged, with a presence that seemed to fill the room and demand respect.
“This is the reason you and the doctor find it difficult to communicate effectively.”
Alistair took a deep breath after making this remark.
Should he reply? He pondered this as Alistair proceeded with his explanation.
“Regardless, I do not wish to overwhelm you with excessive details therefore I will only convey the crucial information you require.”
“Okay?”
This situation left him feeling uneasy. He had a strong sense that the information he was about to receive would significantly change the trajectory of his life.
“You are a Traveler—an individual who has traversed the boundaries separating these realms.”
He furrowed his brow, trying to grasp the concept.
“It means you do not come from this place. However, should you choose to remain, you can find a sense of belonging. In other words, you have transitioned between dimensions.”
“Excuse me?”
He stammered, his mind racing.
“What do you mean I crossed worlds? How is that even possible?”
He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
‘Well, I did die…’
The idea of discovering oneself in a different realm after death is challenging to grasp, yet there is considerable evidence to back it up.
To begin with, he finds himself in a palace, surrounded by individuals clad in antiquated garments, which starkly contrasts with the casual attire he was accustomed to. Second, he witnesses a doctor using a mirror as a means of communication, a fascinating device that leaves him deeply impressed. Third, he has no prior knowledge of the Fides Empire. Finally, despite being presumed dead, he is now alive and in good health.
But can this evidence truly be considered adequate?
The last three observations may be subject to skepticism, as his lack of knowledge of them raises doubts. However, he clearly remembers being aware of his imminent death that day in the hospital. This awareness is genuine, as he had spent his entire life with the realization that death was inevitable for him. This is something they cannot fake. The realization sent a shiver down his spine.
His gaze drifted to the window, where the sun radiated in all its glory.
“…Is this really a different world?”
After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, as if the weight of the situation pressed down on him. The air was thick with tension.
“I did not anticipate such a reaction from the young master.”
The young man’s brow furrowed at his words, and for the first time, Alistair saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.
Alistair had expected an outburst or accusations of deceit, considering the young master’s previous fits of rage and his tendency to reject anything that challenged his beliefs. Yet, perhaps he had been too hasty in his assessment. There might be more to this young master than met the eye, a depth of character hidden beneath layers of indifference.
He let out a sigh, a sound that echoed in the stillness of the room, and ran his fingers through his long silver-white hair, a nervous habit he had developed over the years. It was a gesture that spoke of frustration and uncertainty.
“I’m not completely convinced by what you’ve said.”
He admitted, his voice steady as he spoke.
“But I’ll listen to you after you answer my questions.”
There was a firmness in his tone, a resolve that suggested he was willing to engage, to dig deeper into the truth that lay beneath the surface.
He flinched slightly when Alistair smiled. It was the first time he had seen this person show any emotion, and it caught him off guard.
“What information are you seeking?”
Alistair asked, prompting a distinct shift in the atmosphere.
The man seemed more open to talking now, his posture relaxed and his gaze less guarded. The tension that had previously hung in the air between them had dissipated, if only slightly.
‘Did I win him over?’
It doesn’t appear so, as Alistair still gives off an impression of being hard to convince. Either way, it will be beneficial to have someone he could rely on in this place so winning this guy’s favor might end up useful.
“Alistair, how do you know all this?”
He asked, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of thoughts in his head.
“How can you tell I’m a real “Traveler” and not just someone you found in the woods?”
What does it mean to be a “Traveler”? Is there a unique mark or presence that sets them apart from the average person? Doctor Happy mentioned that the owner of the palace discovered him in the forest, leading him to ponder whether the forest itself held secrets—a realm filled with magic or significance accessible only to “Travelers.”
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However, this theory left him with more questions than answers. If the forest was indeed special, how had the prince managed to enter it? What made him different from others who might wander through its woods?
Alistair’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he could feel the thoughts racing in his mind.
“Doctor Happy remains oblivious to the full extent of the situation because His Imperial Highness has requested that we maintain the confidentiality of your origins.”
Alistair explained, his voice low.
This made his heart race. Is it against the law to travel between worlds without proper documents?
“I’m not in trouble, am I?”
It would be rather unfortunate if he were to be caught and imprisoned the next day.
His heartbeat slowed when Alistair shook his head.
“On the contrary, your arrival has delighted the people. They’ve even arranged a festival and banquet in your honor.”
“I thought my arrival was supposed to be a secret. How does everyone know?”
Alistair simply raised a finger and pointed to the ceiling, where a stunning chandelier hung, its crystals sparkling like stars.
What could he mean by that? He looked up but saw nothing unusual.
“It is the sky.”
The man didn’t make a sound as he exhaled, yet it felt as if he had… Was it just a trick of his mind?
Alistair put his finger down as he spoke.
“Whenever a “Traveler” arrives in this world, the sky opens, and a meteor descends. This is how everyone becomes aware of your presence.”
As the heavens parted, a meteor descended. His mind was flooded with questions upon hearing this.
Interestingly, it seemed that such events were so frequent that the people remained calm instead of panicking about the possible end of the world.
‘Don’t tell me I was the meteor that hit the ground?’
He examines his body for any fractures, running his hands over his limbs and torso, searching for any signs of pain or discomfort. He feels the smoothness of his skin and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
In the end, he finds nothing wrong. That’s a good thing, he thinks, a small relief washing over him.
“The young master was discovered without any injuries, merely in a state of unconsciousness.”
Alistair said, his voice steady and reassuring.
The doctor confirmed this information as well.
‘Even if I were to have sustained injuries, they mentioned that I entered this world three years ago.’
Any possible injuries would have likely healed by now.
He let out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his thoughts. He spent a moment looking at the plain white bedsheet, its starkness contrasting with the chaos in his mind. The fabric was crisp and unwrinkled.
After a brief pause, he finally met Alistair’s gaze, his expression flat and unbothered, as if the world around him held little significance.
“What is your intention?”
“What are you trying to say, young master?”
He narrows his eyes. This guy really thinks he can act clueless after giving such a big clue.
“What do you want from me?”
“Did you figure it out?”
Alistair grins slowly as he answered.
He shoots a smirk at the long-haired man, a hint of amusement shining in his eyes.
“You told me yourself.”
He says, his voice laced with a mix of sarcasm and genuine curiosity.
“If your intention had been to simply take advantage of me, you wouldn’t be disclosing all of this. It’s obvious that you want something from me.”
They could have kept pretending, could have left him alone in this bewildering place, a mere pawn in their game.
After all, he could not do much in a strange world where the rules are foreign and the landscape is unrecognizable. He doesn’t even remember how he arrived here, nor does he have any inkling of the purpose that brought him to this moment. But instead, Alistair is here before him, unraveling the enigma of these mysterious “Travelers.”
By providing just the basic information about Travelers—those who traverse realms and bend the fabric of reality—reveals that they know he is one of them, and that they actively sought him out after his arrival.
Alistair folded his arms and shut his eyes.
“I must admit, you are quite perceptive. However, I am just a servant following orders. My loyalty lies with His Imperial Highness, who has a request for the young master.”
Ah, there is still that enigmatic prince, a figure currently shrouded in mystery.
“The prince… He must need something big from me. He wouldn’t be looking after me otherwise.”
The silver-white-haired young master mused, a furrow of concern creasing his brow.
Alistair laughed at this, a sound that echoed lightly in the chamber.
“Who can say? My prince is very unpredictable.”
“Hmm.”
‘I just hope they aren’t planning to use me for politics.’
He thought, a shiver running down his spine. The court was a treacherous place, filled with whispers and schemes, and he had no desire to become a pawn again.
However, given that the one who took him in is a prince, the chances are high.
How annoying.
“Are you afraid we might take advantage of you?”
“Isn’t that what it seems?”
Why else would they seek him out after he ended up in this world?
“Of course not. The young master has the choice to refuse. We will not force you to take any actions against your will.”
The other figure insisted, their voice steady and calm, as if trying to soothe the storm brewing within him.
“Yeah, whatever you say.”
He replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
If Alistair noticed, he chose not to say anything.
He looks out the window, taking in the scenery. This place is likely well-guarded, making escape nearly impossible. The imposing stone walls loom over him, a constant reminder of the constraints that bind him. Still, he is determined to try. The idea of freedom ignites a flicker of hope within him, even as the weight of his predicament presses down.
He shifts his gaze to Alistair, who remains composed, his expression unreadable. It appears he understands that the questioning isn’t finished, that there are still layers to peel back, truths to uncover.
“I have one more question.”
He says, keeping a steady demeanor despite the turmoil brewing inside him.
Alistair raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.
“What is it?”
“I…”
He pauses, the words teetering on the edge of his lips. He clenches his fists, worried he might seem childish for asking about something only kids believe in. But his desire to know is stronger than his fear of being laughed at.
“Is magic real in this world?”
“… .”
“… … .”
The longer Alistair takes to reply, the more his anxiety increases. Ultimately, the man gave a nod of affirmation.
“It is real.”
He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
This explains why they aren’t surprised by the terrifying sight of the sky splitting open and a meteor falling. It also suggests that this palace could have a magical barrier in place.
Damn.
“Nonetheless, magic is not the primary reason for your arrival here. The connection between magic and Travelers is solely through one individual, nothing more.”
Alistair clarified.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly interested.
“What do you mean by that?”
“We are not here to explore historical intricacies. As I said, I am merely sharing the key information you need.”
Alistair shrugged, indicating that he would refrain from elaborating on the complexities of this world.
‘I suppose that’s okay.’
Being bombarded with too much information at once can be counterproductive, especially for someone who has faced death and is now adjusting to a new reality. The Traveler’s mind raced with questions, but he knew better than to bother Alistair with them.
He leaned back against the headboard, suddenly feeling weary. The chaos of thoughts in his mind made it hard to decide which ones to focus on.
“Alistair, what other important details do you think I should know?”
Although they aren’t completely excluding him, they are still keeping him in the dark. However, he has too many thoughts racing in his mind to come up with a question.
Even if that weren’t true, Alistair wouldn’t share anything that could help him escape. It’s best to let him share what he wants to share.
‘Does he believe I will remain silent?’
Alistair realized he had a liking for the person and responded truthfully.
“In this world, the young master’s hair and eyes are very unique. You would draw attention the instant you stepped out of this palace.”
“My hair?”
He took hold of his long silver tresses, observing them flow gracefully.
‘My eyes are green too.’
Upon learning that he was in a different world, he had assumed that his hair and eye color had altered to align with the aesthetic preferences of this world, but it appears that is not the case.