Inside a workshop is an old man. A master of his craft and has quite the mastery of firearms and crafts. This master was now examining the guns he had custom-made for Milo.

“Your guns are well-used.”

“Mostly for warning shots and self-defense. And the occasional wild animal that has too much courage.”

“It seems.”

The firearm he had was a pair of eight-shooters. Milo purchased them along the road and they had been true friends.

“But I must admit I didn’t think you’d have time on the road.”

“Road’s not too safe in some parts of where I went.”

“You took the train, no?”

Milo nodded. “Yes. But the train does not reach some areas I wish to go to.”

“I see it is worth the trouble?”

“Aye. It is,” he smiled purely. “But the view was wonderful. The Mence, the thousand islands, is truly a sight to behold. I’d tell you, but no words will describe it.”

“Then if it’s safer, perhaps I will spend some time and view such sights. For now, I am a craftsman and this is my world.”

“Correct, Maester. I shall leave you to your work.”

Milo’s stay in the city of Arksh has been peaceful. Excluding the part where he was forced to be bedridden after overworking himself. It was an obsession for Milo.

The need to save someone’s life was complex to him. It was not a messiah complex, he assured himself. But he knows there are elements to it that might. Though in Milo’s case it is more of an atonement.

Walking the peaceful road of Arksh. Browsing the shop-lined streets. Watching the horseless carriages moving on the cobble road on two separate lanes. Milo found himself sitting on a bench with arms resting on his knees.

“What good did I do to have this?” Milo thought. “To have a second chance in life and yet at the same time burdened by the thought of having to gain use of a body not mine?”

Throughout the past years. Milo had taken interest in himself. He had reasoned out to Sister Romina his lack of memories. And by the grace of their Parish, he was able to reach out to organizations who might be able to know his identity. There was no record of Milo, nor was there anything other than a letter from the Republic about his status.

Thankfully, under the authority of the Church. Milo was allowed to become a legal citizen of the republic which surprises him to an extent because of how organized the city was. He had expected records to be kept horribly on paper ledgers. Turns out there is a system made by predecessors to keep them.

It came to Milo for a very long time about how impressive some of the technologies they have. It’s sustainable and friendly to the environment which is quite understandable.

There was one time Milo had a discussion with a friend on a stricken land. Not this world, but the past life. Milo recalled the blanket of smog over a terrible desert land. Spanning an entire continent where he and the environmentalist had a task.

“Look at this!” said the environmentalist. “All of this covers the land. Seeping the soil. This is why this land is going to die. Not out of war, but terrible pollution.”

“They aren’t even earning,” Milo said to him.

“Yeah. Other countries are earning more from their land. But this is how things are here.”

Even as Milo recalls the sight of that smog-filled land. He was rather more concerned about the demeanor of his friend. But that was a past life, and certainly not this world. Just memories that might as well be dreams.

Milo wonders if civilization here would end up to that point. Then again his travels here have been enlightening. The talks he had over many people had made him conclude the people’s rather common ability to to fear nature. He cannot blame them when they have written actual first-hand accounts published and told everywhere.

It was actually the first thing he had read. This grand voyage that lasted centuries. Which led Milo to believe that this world was far bigger and wider than the one he knows.

“A shame,” Milo said. The thought of not being able to see it saddens him, but there might be a day where he has a chance to at least see one part of it.

Other than the political choices of states to the Republic. The world was in this state of change. Stagnating for centuries has led this world to change on its own. Father Padriel had an insightful way of saying it.

“The people can learn. I have seen changes. From the betterment of workers and our way of life. Yes, we are quite united with a common enemy, but that common enemy is starting to falter and now people are turning to others. My son. I always believe and I think you do too. That our world is run by a simple fundamental truth. The need for something is vital. Who has what, who needs what, and how do they get it there. If an individual or a group doesn’t have something they need, they will go get it, however they can. And now we are simply running out of things that we need to get out of this stalemate.”

History has somewhat slowed in this world. Which is quite reasonable when this world has a great flood and a war against the Kin extensively throughout the years, leading to this fanatical desire for the extermination of an opposing race.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Milo had no opinions about the history of this world. And extensive reading and understanding has been enlightening to why they did. It was simply a world that had suffered and the one who won are now the people who inhabit this world. To judge the history of this world, while being a stranger, seems not right to him and honestly Milo had no qualms about it.

After taking a long walk. Milo got back to the Parish where he found Sister Romina waiting for him. Seeing the urgency on her face, Milo followed Sister Romina and went to the visiting room where they welcome guests.

A quick observation of the guest suggests that he had authority. But Father Padriel, who was welcoming this guest, held little concern to the hidden smugness this visitor has. Milo knows the Sisters as genuine in their kindness, but once they wore their disciplinarian's face, even this authority figure couldn’t keep the pretense of composure.

“I’ll be quick,” said the man. “The Republic requests the attendance of this parish for the hearing. This concerns the state of the Republic and we believe that attendance is necessary.”

Father Padriel raises his head. “Will the Representative be coming? I am sure that this is his job.”

“Yes. But it is best if there is involvement in each sector.”

“What about the Mayor?” Father Padriel added. “I’m sure that Mr. Solra should be present as well?”

“He will.” The authority figure adjusts his tie. The authority that Father Padriel demonstrates by the sheer tone of his voices makes the man nervous. He kept his tone and continued. “Like I said, we need every representative to be in this hearing.”

Father Padriel said nothing. He retained his stare though as if organizing the information in his head. “The Church retains neutrality, and I shall assume now my brothers and sisters will have the same opinion as I am.”

“Indeed. That is why I’m asking for a representative,” he turned towards Milo. “Is this gentleman the representative?”

“Yes,” Father Padriel cleared his throat. “This is Doctor Milo Stiv, a doctor that has been cooperating with this parish.”

“Oh. Pardon me for my rudeness, Doctor.”

Milo said nothing and nodded. Allowing Father Padriel to assume the head of authority. This wasn’t Milo’s first play. It’s not surprising how many fools have wanted to get permission from the Parish to exploit some of the unused land for themselves. Every up and coming merchant with greedy hearts or simply fools have come and go here, hoping to score big.

“Dr. Milo is qualified to hear what the Republic has to say. He is a trusted associate of the Parish and a kind friend. I hope we can agree on this, friend.”

“Of course. If you think so, then I have no qualms.”

“Good. Then let us hear the rest of the details.”

The man’s shoulder sagged visibly. Milo leaned forward and perked his ears. He at least needed to hear why this was so important for a man clearly fit for office more than travel to come here.

“The Premier intends to discuss the recent movements of the state. It might not have gone out yet, but recently King Alexander Edmundson III, and Queen Genevieve Isabella Marie were assassinated last month while visiting one of their country’s prestigious academy.”

Then it came to Milo that the nervousness of this man wasn’t exactly because of Father Padriel’s presence alone. It’s because the rulers of the Western Islands are dead.

Father Padriel was quick to guess. “And they believe our people are part of this?”

The man took out documents related to it. Milo shared the document with Father Padriel. On the paper were reports of how a former serviceman who once worked for the Republic had assassinated the King and Queen while they passed. The assailant was named Malachi Song. He was killed on the spot by the Royal Guard, and his apartment ransacked. Found in his apartment was the manifesto that said his grievances to the Kingdom of Aurel and his constant praise of the Republic.

“He sounds deranged. Do they think it’s suspicious? The manifesto itself doesn’t necessarily mean he’s allegiance is to ours,” Father Padriel remarked, pointing out the obvious.

“Yes. One would certainly think that. But through unknown means. We have discovered a meeting between a Senator and the man. The Senator itself has said nothing to the discovery, but it doesn’t bode well with what the evidence has revealed.”

Milo pondered. “So now they think it's necessary for everyone to gather in the same location?”

“There is a need for a hearing and we believe that discussion must happen between parties of interest. We’ll have to settle it in the Capital.”

“I’m assuming that this isn’t simply this?”

The man wiped his forehead. “We will include the state of the republic. It was supposed to happen at the end of year, but recent affairs had to make this happen earlier than usual.”

Milo checks the date. “So we should be there by the end of this month.” Milo leaned back and crossed his arms. “As much as I’d like to immediately agree. I have to check the post office first and see if I have any business to attend to. Will that be alright, Father?”

“Sure. I will have a discussion with our man here. Perhaps he needs a confession to ease his burdens.”

The man seriously considered it and accepted. Father Padriel left with the man while Sister Romina walked the open corridors of the Parish with Milo.

“Trouble seems to be coming.”

“Indeed. But change is also progress… despite this one being caused by an untimely tragedy.”

“May the King and Queen’s soul rest in peace.”

Milo raised a brow. “That reminds me, Sister. You were originally from Aurel. How was life there?”

“Pitiful.”

“Quite honest, coming from you.”

“The King and Queen had little love for their people and perhaps some might have come to conspire against them. I pity their death, but it doesn’t excuse what they have done in their lives.”

“Quite pragmatic, Sister.”

“Our God knows mercy, but he does not tolerate evil, Doctor Milo. It’s best if you remember that. That reminds me, Doctor. Have you been reading?”

Milo raised both hands. “I promise that I really do read it once in a while.”

“Doctor. I respect your choices of faith. But if you had decided, then there is no need to lie to me about it.”

Milo’s shoulders sagged. It was hard to admit to the Sister that his father was rather… strange. Though he could have masked it, drawing on the resemblances he had seen, but that seems to be a blasphemous thought.

“Well, I have to check my letters now, Sister.”

Milo left the Parish and found himself at the post office. He took the usual seat and waited for his turn and then approached the counter with papers readied.

As if there was a coin toss somewhere.

It seems he was invited to the Capital to examine a patient.