The presence that forced her onto her onto this path of no return gave off the same sense of familiarity as her parents. However, it had none of the gentleness.

Trapped inside her mind while it possessed her body, she was told that she would eventually understand it all. That it was doing this on behalf of her parents. That it was for her own good.

Now, without knowing anything, she stood before the door of an unknown person’s house, apparently having just knocked.

A few moments later, the door opened and a bald old man that stood shorter than her due to his hunched back looked up at her with bespectacled eyes. He looked human, yet seemed slightly different in a way that was enchanting. Seemingly recognizing her, he smiled and opened the door wide. He stepped forward, supported by his cane. “Oh, if it isn’t Erika! Have you come to work today as well?”

Erika.

That was indeed her name. However, she didn’t remember meeting this man before, nor did she ever introduce herself.

This whole situation was confusing. She was forced to finish her parents’ latest invention and then activated it. The next thing she knew, she appeared here.

She looked down. She was no longer wearing her home clothes. Instead, she was dressed in coarse fabrics made from sewn wool. It was only now that she noticed how different it felt; she was too distracted earlier.

No, it’s simply that she was distracted by something else.

She looked back at the old man, ready to say yes, but the old man’s tongue was even faster. He squinted at her, frowning in concern.

“Erika, you look pale. Are you okay? Did your illness relapse?” Without waiting for her to answer, the old man stepped aside. “Come in, Erika. You can stay in the usual room until it passes. Don’t worry, you’re not bothering anyone.”

Erika couldn’t think of anything to say and just nodded. She had her reservations, but she could probably overpower the old man if something went wrong. She followed him into the dark insides.

They came to a small room with a bed. The old man lit a candle by the bedside and patted the bed. When she sat numbly on the cot, he smiled at her and went back to the door.

“When you feel better, the work is on the table as usual,” the old man said.

Erika looked around the room. A copper mirror stood on the bedside table. She saw her own face in it. Almost nothing changed from before except some changes that made her different from what she used to be, changes that made her resemble the old man. Exotic and strange.

She had no idea what was the work she was supposed to do, or the illness that supposedly relapsed when she stood at the door.

She had no idea what was happening. She suddenly couldn’t take it anymore; she wanted answers, but she would never learn anything if she played along with this masquerade.

“Wait!” she said, as the old man began to pull the door close. Startled, the old man froze in his movement, staring at her. His gaze pierced her and the outburst at the tip of her tongue withered.

“What’s wrong?” the old man asked, furrowing his brows.

Erika swallowed and took a deep breath to compose herself. She looked into the old man’s eyes, trying to look as serious as she could. “Sir, I don’t remember anything,” she said.

The furrows in the old man’s brows deepened. Erika swallowed, suddenly doubting the wisdom of her confession. She shook her head. Her lying and acting skills were terrible, and it was better if she admitted it now rather than being found out later on.

This… was probably the best outcome.

All that was left was to see how the old man would react. In some cultures, a person would be burned at the stake if found to be possessed by a spirit, evil or not.

But she wasn’t a spirit possessing a body; this was her body in the first place.

However, the old man seemed to know her. It was like this body’s original owner was replaced by her a while ago right when she knocked on the door. Besides, she still remembered the modern world clearly.

There were only two options: either she lived both lives through reincarnation, or she transmigrated.

The first required that she got amnesia that somehow occurred in the middle of the day without any obvious triggers while retaining memories that carried through reincarnation. That was still more probable than her transmigrating to this world, causing every native inhabitants’ memories to change to include her.

But that machine and that presence that controlled her movements still existed in her memories. Perhaps it marked the end of her first life and allowed her to reincarnate into this world while keeping her memories.

Nothing made sense.

“...rika, Erika! You’re spacing out again. Did you hear what I said?”

Erika’s eyes focused on a wrinkled face right in front her. “Ahh!” She instinctively screamed and pushed the visage in front of her, sending the old man flying back. Her hand flew to her mouth in horror. An old man of that age can’t possibly survive hitting his head on a wall.

But the worse case scenario did not occur. Amazingly, the old man stumbled, then regained his footing. In some part of Erika’s mind, she began to doubt the necessity of the cane the old man held.

The old man’s expression was disapproving. Clop. Clop. Clop. The wooden cane tapped its way closer until the old man stood right in front of her again. He said nothing, merely glaring down at her as if he was waiting for her to speak.

There was nothing to say. She forgot everything.

“I asked a question,” he reminded.

Her voice quivering, Erika shook her head. “I didn’t hear,” she admitted honestly.

“I thought not,” the old man said. “That’ll teach you to space off while I’m talking! Alright, let’s start over. Who am I?”

Erika shook her head. “I don’t know.”

The old man shook his head. “I’m the chief of this village, Objar Rehaldsen. Now, who are you?”

“Erika.”

The old man, Objar’s expression twisted into something strange, a mixture of a frown, a smile, and something else that Erika could not identify. Was it amusement or surprise? He shook his head. “Did you get that from when I first called out, or did you remember it?”

“I remember my name, but I don’t remember anything else!” Erika protested.

“Well, I don’t either.”

“What?”

“How would I know anything about a strange girl ridden with illness who collapsed at the village gate?” Objar said. “Erika Kristorven. That’s what you called yourself. Wouldn’t tell us anything, and the women wouldn’t allow me to throw you out since you were probably abandoned by a traveling group, so here you are. We know nothing else. All that’s changed now is that we’re on equal grounds.” Objar expression finally stabilized into a smile and he slapped her back. “Backfired on ya, didn’t it?”

“H-how long ago was this?” Erika asked.

Objar’s free hand grasped at something in front of him, but nothing was there. He lowered his hand awkwardly and reached into his pocket for a pipe. “It’s been maybe seven months. You’ve been helping around my house and sleeping in the stables. When you overexert and trigger your illness, you rest here. Wait a minute,” he said as if remembering something. “You still know how to weave, right? That’s your job at my place.”

Erika’s blood stopped. “No… I don’t. But I’m good with my fingers and I’m a fast learner, so…” she trailed off with her pathetic excuses.

So she wasn’t going to be burned as a demon, but she was going to die after being thrown out and exposed to the elements. She couldn’t weave. She had no idea what other things she did to help Objar, but she was doomed if she couldn’t do any of it now, as weaving was off the table.

But the eviction order never came. She hesitantly looked up to see Objar examining her face.

“Yes?” she asked in a small voice.

“No, it’s nothing,” Objar replied, straightening as much he could and turned to the door. “Whatever. I’ll have one of the women in town teach you. The work will pile up though, so make sure you finish all of it.”

Erika’s eyes widened. “Really? Thank you so much!”

Objar looked at her one more time as he headed toward the door. “You’ve really changed from that emotionless, frozen girl, huh. Are you really Erika? Or is this the real Erika?”

The door closed behind him.

In the end, she didn’t learn anything new except her past in this world. However, Objar’s last words bothered her. Before she, her spirit and personality, arrived in this body, this body had been frozen and emotionless. An empty doll.

She couldn’t think of an easier way to integrate a new person into this world seamlessly: make the person appear out of nowhere and manipulating the natives to accept him into their society.

This suggested her second theory, but she still had no idea why she was sent here.

After a few moments, Erika felt she was calm enough to get out of bed.

Until she had a way to go back, she would have to somehow survive here. If she could continue doing what her body was doing before, that was fine too.

She didn’t even know where to start, or if it was possible to go back, so it was probably better not to get her hopes up.

She didn't even finish school, yet she had become an orphan. There really was no future for her back in the old, modern world. The amount of money for secondary education was enormous, and people were more likely to adopt a younger child.

She’d have to fend for herself if she ever went back, for there, she was just a child.

Here, she was already half an adult.

She left the room and wandered around the house until she found a table with a loom. She had never woven in her life and the loom looked like an ancient implement she would usually find in a museum. But now, she was expected to work it.

Looking at the frame with lines of wool fibers, she had a vague idea of how it worked, but without the finer details, she’d just ruin everything. She had no choice but to take Objar up on his offer.

She wandered some more.

Objar’s house was empty except for him and herself. His wife must have passed away and his kids moved out. Luckily, the community seemed to be quite small and tight-knit, so he probably wouldn’t be worried.

She found Objar reading a book by the light of a window. He looked up when she came in. “Oh, hello, Erika. You’re up. So should I find a woman to teach you weaving?” he asked.

Erika nodded.

“The lesson will cost you, though. You may have to work it off at their place, but since you don’t remember anything, and they can already weave…”

“I will need someone else to teach me until I’ve helped almost everyone,” Erika finished. She took a deep breath. This was some hole she dug herself into. No, this wasn’t even her fault.

“Correct. If you’re fine with that, go find the loom. I’ll have someone with you in a moment.”

The woman Objar brought over looked like she was in her late twenties had she been in her old world. However, given the lack of skin care products in this world, the woman may only be in her late teens. Still, she was so stunning that she made Erika feel a surge of inferiority.

“Erika! Objar said you lost your memories?” the woman asked, rushing over as soon as she saw Erika. “Are you okay?”

Erika looked at her blankly. She probably knew the woman before, but not anymore.

Objar took the pipe out of his mouth and coughed for attention. “Tabitha, she doesn’t remember who you are. Erika, this is Tabitha Yaelin. She was the one to teach you how to weave at first, so I figured I might as well invite her this time too.”

Erika looked at Objar thankfully. At least he picked someone she was friendly with. If her teacher was a spiteful or stingy person, she may take forever to work off her debt. But if it was with someone like Tabitha, she could maybe get a better deal, like being her assistant for a few weeks.

After the introduction, Objar excused himself, leaving just Tabitha with her by the loom.

“Mm, alright, let’s see if you still have those magic fingers of yours,” Tabitha said. “Watch as I set up the loom. It only took me one demonstration before you got it right the first time, so watch carefully.”

Tabitha began to string wool through the reeds. “For a beginner, preparing the hard part.” As she worked, she named the parts briefly. Soon, Tabitha had a nice plane of wool warp yarn stretching through the heddles, bound tightly to the beams in the front and back.

“With the hard part done, I’ll show you how to do the weaving itself. The most important parts of the loom in this process is the beater, shuttle, and heddles. After you run the shuttle with the weft yarn between the warp, held by the heddles, like this. Then you push it with the beater so it fits tightly. Move the front heddle down and the back heddle up. Repeat.”

After the explanation, Tabitha did the process a few times and seemed to almost forget Erika as she fell into a rhythm. Only when Erika tapped her on the shoulders did she jump. “Oh, sorry. I just really like weaving. I fall into a trance sometimes doing it,” she explained, smiling. “Why don’t you try?”

Happiness and sadness warred in Erika as she sat down. On one hand, weaving came naturally to her. On the other, Tabitha clearly didn’t need an assistant. In fact, the assistant would probably have to pay Tabitha instead of the other way around. Slightly depressed, she began to work the loom, following the same rhythm as Tabitha.

The piece that Tabitha and Erika worked with is pretty small, so it only took the afternoon to finish. Tabitha showed her how to take the weave off and sew the ends into the weave itself so it didn’t fell apart easily.

Then, for the final lesson, Tabitha tested Erika on her ability to set up the loom. Unfortunately, Erika discovered that for her, putting the warp yarns through the reeds and heddles took a lot more patience than the calming motions of weaving. Although she much was slower than Tabitha, she was still praised for how quickly so got the hang of it.

“However,” Tabitha warned, “this is just the basics of weaving. The most you can do with this is mix different colors with the weft strings. You’re a long way from being able to weave complicated designs.”

“Thank you for teaching me, Tabitha. I promise I’ll get better at it. Um, do you need help with something?”

Tabitha thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “Somehow, you seem different now. I think I like you better this way. I’ll just take this piece of weaving as payment, Erika. We’re still friends, right?”

Erika nodded. “Yes. Thank you!”

“Well, if we’re friends, then there’s no need to say thank you. Work hard, and I’ll come check on you, so make sure you improve.” Tabitha walked over to the door and waved the cloth Erika made in goodbye.

After Tabitha left, Erika continued to work. Even after Objar came back and went into his room, Erika was still not done. Eventually, it got too dark to work and Erika had to stop. Following Objar’s directions given earlier, she made her way to the stables where she pulled a quilt over her and fell asleep, resigning herself to an early awakening the next morning to finish the weaving.

Even beyond that, she resigned herself to a pre-modern life. It was a fairly worry-free one where she didn’t have to think about getting a high-income job in the future, but also one with lower living standards.

She couldn’t help but wonder if she could get used to living like this.

When she reminisced about the modern world, she always remembered the stories she read about the peasant girl turned princess, the fairy tale prince, and fire-breathing dragons.

These fantasies escaped her memories and weaved themselves into her imagination.

One day, maybe she too could leave this village and pursue the life of adventure.

Part 2: Ian

Erika found that women in this new world, at least in this village, was highly skilled in many crafts. After the supply of wool ran out or when they didn’t need any more clothes, they would put aside weaving in favor of pottery. Tabitha was a woman of many talents and an excellent teacher.

She was the one to teach Erika how to work on all the latest crafts. Over the period of half a year, Erika learned how to weave, make pottery, carve woodwork, and cook.

Erika learned the basics of each craft the first time Tabitha demonstrated the processes, and each time, Tabitha praised her talent. However, the more Tabitha helped her, the more Erika felt she owed Tabitha. Tabitha only took the first piece she worked on as payment for each lesson like she did with the weaving.

That debt Erika felt she owed wasn’t small; she probably owed her entire livelihood to Tabitha. But Tabitha never needed help in return, nor did she demand payment in any way.

Besides, there was one more problem that plagued her. The person Tabitha weaved for, made pots for, and crafted dolls and utensils for was her husband and daughter. The person Erika did all these things for was the old widower Objar.

While she didn’t sleep in his house and instead spent the nights in the stables and ate meals at the small inn the little town had, she did all the wifely duties for the village chief.

Her tasks were the ones that daughters learned and wives performed.

She couldn't shake the suspicion scratching at the corner of her mind that she was being groomed.

Although everyone said that she was much more social, everyone reacted differently. The older women acted as mother figures, while the younger ones were like sisters and close friends to her. The older men were aloof and seemed to only care about her crafts abilities.

However, it was the unmarried boys that were of age that paid the most attention to her.

Offering to help her fetch water from the well.

Asking to take a walk in the quiet forest beyond the village during the day.

Flower gifts.

Food gifts.

Some of the attention was easy to reject with excuses, like “there are monsters beyond the village boundaries” for the walk, or “they’re really not that heavy” for help with heavy items. Other offers like food and flowers were harder to push away without offending. For the latter, she tried her best to repay them so that she owed nothing, but it was awkward whenever their faces lit up with joy.

The root of the problem was she couldn’t reject their advances outright before they confess or begin to openly court her, or she’ll lose all her reputation for being conceited. Even Tabitha couldn’t help, for if she interfered, even her own reputation will be tarnished to sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.

It was only then that Erika really felt that she was distancing from the modern world, a world that she could only remember vaguely through rose tinted glasses.

Today, Ian Antonas waited for her at the stables entrance again. “Hey, Erika!”

Erika smiled and greeted him back, careful not to return with the same familiarity he showed her. “Good morning, Ian. How have you been today?”

“My day was fine. That traveler needed his horseshoes changed, so I’m getting my first job today. I asked my father if I could invite a few people over to watch. Since old man Objar doesn’t have any work for you today, do you want to come?”

Erika shook her head. “Unfortunately, I told Ronja I’d help her with the inn in my spare time. It’s spring now, so travelers are finally moving again. Hopefully, they brought more of those fairy rings with them again so we can expand the village boundaries. Space is getting tighter with the flocks and fields.”

“Oh, is that so?” Ian muttered, shoulders sagging. “Then, how about I treat you to breakfast?”

“Well, Ronja promised me all three meals today for helping, so I have that covered. However, if you like, I can ask for something extra large and split you some,” Erika consoled, then wondered why she suggested that and made more work for herself. Dishes and laundry on top of serving guests too, then.

Ian was a nice boy, but she didn’t like him either. She really shouldn’t encourage him, but she couldn’t bear seeing him disappointed.

Unfortunately, Ian agreed. “I don't need you to buy me anything. Just breakfasting with you is enough for me,” he said, smiling.

Erika groaned inwardly, but at least she didn’t have to do any extra work. She walked past Ian toward the inn at the front. Despite it being quite early with the sun still hidden behind the trees in the forest, there was already someone sitting at a table.

“Good morning,” she said, curtsying. Ian nodded politely at the man.

The man looked rugged. Russet hair ran down the side of his face and connected with a thick red beard. It wasn’t very orderly, but it was cared for and clean. Bright brown eyes stared at her for a second, seeming to judge her as a threat, before moving on to Ian next to her. Then he stuck out his calloused right hand.

“Ottfried. I heard you’re replacing my horse’s shoes instead of your old man,” the man said. Ian gripped it and shook hard.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

“You’d better not.”

Their hands parted and Ottfried nodded slowly. A moment later, Ian went to sit at an empty table while Erika walked into the back of the inn. Ronja was beside her side in an instant and shoved a tray with soup, bread, and a small slab of venison covered in juices.

“You’re right on time, Erika! Quick, take this out. That traveler has been waiting for a while. Be careful, it’s hot; don't spill it!”

Erika blinked at the order, then nodded. With steady steps, she took the tray to the swinging half doors and pushed through sideways. Completing the final stretch of her journey, she set the tray of food down in front of Ottfried.

“Thanks, miss,” he said, nodded to her. She offered a small smile back and went back inside. A moment later, she pushed back out with a tray balanced on each hand: her and Ian’s breakfast.

The larger portion by far went to Ian; he was the local blacksmith’s son and had a large build that spoke of his appetite.

“Ronja said she put it on your family’s tab, but she only charged half,” Erika said, grimacing inside.

Charged half. Even an idiot could figure out what that meant. Still, she couldn’t say anything.

“Tell Ronja I said thank you!” Ian’s face was as bright as the sun. Spirits high, he dug into his meal. He ate extremely carefully, not messy at all. Despite that, he still ate fast, and when he finished his portion, he still had time to look at her while she ate.

Erika tried to not look at him. However, the only other interesting item in the room was Ottfried, and he seemed rather unsociable. Besides, Ian might get upset.

Wait, what did she care if Ian got upset? She needed to stop trying to not offend everyone. It was actually better for her if Ian lost interest. She even got him half off for his breakfast.

Erika looked at Ottfried while eating. Looking at him from this angle, he actually looked neatly dressed. Unlike the mixed and matched clothing of the villagers and several other travelers that passed through, his clothes were in shades of complimentary brown, of the same material.

She couldn’t put it into words, but it had a strange neatness and uniformness to it. Ottfried exuded disciple and he carried a sword that was slightly adorned with a lion design.

Whatever Ottfried was, he wasn’t just a normal traveler. If she had to guess, he’s probably a messenger from the Rembert Kingdom in the east. To the west of this village lay Caerau.

She turned away and calmly drained the rest of her soup. When she lowered the bowl, she found Ian staring at Ottfried with hostile eyes. As if feeling her eyes on him, Ian pried his gaze away from Ottfried back to her.

She gave him an innocent smile and he smiled back, but it was a bit frozen and forced, maybe even a little hurt. She felt guilt squeeze her heart, but she pushed it away.

Ian wasn’t for her. She didn't want to be stuck here for the rest of her life, married to a blacksmith, even if it meant her future will be stable.

Seeing that both her and Ian’s trays were empty, she picked them up and headed back to the back of the inn. She put the plates into a tub of water, soaped them, then rinsed it off. The plates went on a rack while the trays were put back into their cabinets.

By the time she finished, the sun was already high enough to be seen over the trees. The men began to crowd into the inn for food, running her ragged between serving drinks and food, dealing with harassment made on dares from groups of boys. Ottfried went outside sometime when the inn first got busy.

Thankfully, the busy hours only lasted an hour or so, creating a lull between breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

That meant she had time on her hands.

“Ronja, I’m going out! I’ll be back to help by lunch!” she called into the kitchen.

“Hurry back!” Ronja hollered back.

Without answering, Erika pushed out of the inn. Her goal was finding out more about Ottfried. He was the most interesting person she’d seen in months. She took a brief peek into every store he might be replenishing his supplies in, such as the alchemist, the butcher, wood craftsmen, Objar’s place, but she didn’t find any traces of the messenger.

That left only two places left: either he returned to the inn after she left, or he was at Ian’s father’s smithery.

She hesitated at the gate in front of Ian’s home, then pushed in. She went around to the back and saw the forge. A couple of Ian’s friends saw her and began cheering and jeering.

“Hey, Ian! Look who’s here!” a boy shouted.

“Stupid, don’t distract him!” another boy who was taller said, and smacked the first boy.

They parted to gave Erika a clear path to the front. She wasn’t here for Ian, though. Sure enough, Ottfried was leaning against the walls of the dark forge.

There was no light in the forge except the fire and the heated metal in order to provide the most accurate judge of color. The forge didn’t have a door either, and there was instead several open windows and a large hole in the wall for maximum ventilation.

The flames of the forge danced on both Ian and Ottfried’s faces, reflecting off the sweat from the heat.

At his friends’ cries, Ian looked up at her, but he was fully concentrating on the task at hand, and quickly looked back down.

A horseshoe was easy to make, which is why this was the first request Ian’s father allowed him to take. However, since this was Ian’s first time forging something for an outsider, it was natural for him to be nervous.

Inside, Erika cheered him on.

After the basic shape was made, Ian trimmed away the extra metal, then punched holes into the horseshoe. After he indicated that he was done with the set of four, Ottfried walked over and peered at the shoes, seemingly satisfied.

Ian took the horseshoes, then stumbled over a piece of iron on his way to Ottfried’s pitch black horse. He went sprawling and the horseshoes in his hands went flying.

“Hell!” Ian cursed, scrabbling after them. After he picked up the fallen horseshoes, he looked nervously at Ottfried. When there was no reaction, Ian went ahead and lifted one of the horse’s hooves, nailed the horseshoe to the hoof with a nail.

When he finished, Ottfried gave the horseshoes a quick look, then paid Ian.

Satisfied, the traveler left the smithery. Meanwhile, Erika found herself surrounded by Ian’s friends, penned in with Ian himself in the center of the circle.

“Hey Erika, how’d I do?” Ian asked, sticking up his chest. “Perfect, right? It’s just a few horseshoes!”

“I don’t know much about horses or smithing, but the traveler looked satisfied, so it’s probably fine,” Erika replied.

Ian’s smile twitched, but he maintained it. “To celebrate, let’s go have a drink, eh?”

“Drink, yeah!” his friends cheered.

Erika furrowed her brows. “I don’t drink,” she protested, “it’s in the middle of the day and I have more work to do later.”

“Come on, it’s fine. One drink won’t do anything!” one of the boys said. “I don’t blame you though, you’re a woman after all. Women can’t drink.”

The other boys cheered at the speech, and then another one chimed in. “Boss will protect you even if something happens, right?”

“Aye, aye! Hear, hear!”

Erika glared at Ian, but he looked away, refusing to meet her eyes. She pushed down the frustration welling up. Boys will be boys. They’re still only eleven or twelve, so they still looked up to Ian. They would mature soon enough. “I’ll pass on the drink. I’m heading back to Ronja’s now. I promised to be back before lunch,” she growled and pushed through the encirclement.

That made Ian look back and he hurried to grab her arm. “Hey, wait, we still have some time left before it’s time for lunch. Since you’re already here, why don't I show you some practice pieces I made and kept? I begged my father to let me keep them, at least until we need the metal again.”

Feeling her tug on her hand, he tried again. “They’re my first works. You can see how well I improved!” He began to pull her into the dark forge. He was the son of a blacksmith, much stronger than her who did more fine work than hard labor. She didn’t stand a chance and was simply pulled along. Pain shot up her arm. After a few steps, the boys in Ian’s group saw her face and fell strangely silent.

“Let me go,” Erika growled through gritted teeth.

“It’s just for a while, I...” Ian insisted, but when he looked back at her, his words died in his mouth. Slowly, his grip loosened until Erika could pry her arm out of her grip.

She looked at the finger marks on her wrist, then back at Ian. Anger suddenly surged into her head and she shoved Ian. When he stumbled and didn’t fall, it drove her vision completely red. Quickly, she took a deep breath and the red faded somewhat. Giving him one more glare, she stormed off. Behind her, she could hear a crash, metal against metal.

She saw no reason to look back.

When she reached the inn again, she filled a bucket of water and submerged her wrist into it. The marks had already darkened into five dark bruises, one for each of his fingers.

Her pounding heart slowed to normal, and after a while, she decided it didn’t really matter how long the bruise lasted. She took the water and dumped it along with the rest of the dishwashing water.

She saw Ronja watching her from the door, but Erika just nodded at her when she passed her on her way back into the front of the inn.

Blinded by rage when she first came in, she hadn’t seen Ottfried sitting at a table yet again, but when she came out, she saw him hovering over a document. It probably wasn’t important since he was reading it in public rather than his inn room, so she walked over.

When she saw the text scrawled all over the parchment, she realized something. In this world, she was illiterate. The neat writing meant nothing to her eyes. A stone dropped to the bottom of her stomach as disappoint set in. It was fine if she couldn’t read if she lived here for the rest of her life, but if she was to set her eyes on a future away from this place, reading was an indispensable ability. That vision burned before her illiteracy.

Then, a ludicrous thought came to her.

She saved some coins from the work she did. If she used those coins to learn the basics of reading from Ottfried, she could probably figure out the rest by herself in the future.

After a moment, Ottfried looked up, his sharp eyes staring into hers.

“Anything you want, miss?”

Butterflies in Erika’s stomach fluttered. Why if she got rejected? What if she didn’t have enough to meet his price if he agreed? “Please, sir, will you teach me how to read and write?” she asked bluntly.

Messengers valued brevity and clarity of speech, so this might leave a good impression…

Ottfried scowled.

“Why do you want to learn?”

“I don’t want to stay here forever. I believe that literacy is necessary if I ever leave this village, sir.”

The messenger ran a hand through his beard, but then he shook his head. “The outside world is nowhere for a girl like you. Don’t you know the only reason why this town hasn’t been overrun by monsters is because of the perimeter of fairy rings? Yet, this place is much safer than a simple journey from here to the next village.”

Erika nodded. “I know. I want to learn though if you’re willing to teach me. I know you’re a messenger, but I’m a quick learner, so please, I promise it won’t take much of your time! I don’t have much money, but I’m sure...”

Ottfried shook his head, cutting her off. “It’s not a matter of money or time. I simply will not enable anyone to risk their life. Even if you’re a man, for example, your boyfriend, I still won’t teach you.”

“H-he’s not my boyfriend! Besides, I can do many things, and if I can read, it will be easier for me to join a group of travelers passing through on their way to a city!” Only then did Erika realize she was raising her voice. She stopped, then rubbed the wrist that Ian squeezed. It didn’t hurt anymore.

Ottfried looked at the bruise, then back at her face. “You’re misunderstanding. You villagers are fundamentally different from travelers. You lack a basic ability or tool that allow you to function outside of the boundaries of settlements.” He folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. “Come with me.”

Erika obediently followed him out of the inn. Ottfried didn't stop there. Instead, he approached the entrance of the village. Before she could stop him, he stepped over the fairy ring boundaries.

“Follow me,” he ordered. “If you can’t even do this much, it’s pointless for you to even dream of ever leaving this place.”

“But…”

“The people of the village leave all the time. It’s fine as long as you don’t go too far into the forest, so why are you so worried? I know you have too, so why are you so scared all of a sudden?” Ottfried asked. He turned and walked further in.

He was right. Boys from the village often went beyond the ring.

However, this time was different; Erika felt from something from the forest. It felt like someone poured cold water all over her, and she couldn’t breathe. It was impossible that Ottfried who traveled through these lands could not feel this dread that she felt.

Still, Ottfried brought her out here. He must have absolute confidence. He’s strong enough to ignore that threatening dread. He said that there was a fundamental difference between them. What was it?

She took a step over and the terror from the forest crushed at her, almost freezing her in place. She took a deep breath and hardened her nerves, chasing after Ottfried.

She caught up with him soon. All the while, the fear ramped up.

Soon, she found the origin.

A lithe shadow leapt from tree to tree, barely disturbing the branches. Yet, its silhouette against the sky looked enormous. Ottfried looked at her.

“Impressive. You can actually track it.”

“What do you mean?” Erika asked. “This fear… anyone can feel it and track it.”

The messenger frowned. “What fear? It’s normal to feel fear, but don’t speak as if you can track it based on where it is. Watch closely. This is our difference, and why you will never set foot outside of this village in your life without immense luck. What you lack is...”

The source of the fear and crushing pressure kept circling them, and Erika turned to keep it in front of her, even though she knew it was useless. Then it charged toward them, the crushing pressure sharpening into a spearpoint that thrust toward her heart.

Beside her, Ottfried drew his sword and pointed it toward the lithe monster. “Soul Awakening.”

The same crushing pressure burst forth from the man’s body, almost knocking Erika over. It only lasted for a second before it disappeared. Spiked armor covered his body and the longsword in his hand turned into a large greatsword.

The monster had targeted her, the weaker link, so she was between Ottfried and the monster. The man behind her shoved her aside and met the panther’s claws with a swing of his sword. The impact sparked and Ottfried completed his swing, sending the monster flying. It spun in midair, landing against a tree on its feet.

Ottfried crouched, then jumped explosively. The next time Erika saw him, he was pulling his greatsword out of the tree with one hand, the head of the panther in the other. Then, both he and the panther’s body fell.

He tossed the head at Erika who was still on the ground where Ottfried had shove her. She stared at the head wordlessly.

“Do you see now? We who have Awakened our Souls are called Seekers. All travelers are Seekers. You’re a burden to any group who travels through here, as is anyone else from your village because you don’t possess the War form that all Seekers have. Even if you learn to read, you can never leave this place. You were born here, and here you will die.

“Now, even knowing this, if you still wish to learn to read, I will teach you.”

Ottfried swiftly skinned the panther and hurled the remaining meat deep into the forest. Then his armor disappeared in a flash and he walked past her, dragging the bloody pelt of the monster toward the village.

The rest of the day passed. Erika worked during lunch and dinner, but she couldn’t remember what she did. She forgot if she smiled while serving, or what her replies were when someone talked to her.

It turned out that after each rush hour, she helped with the dishes, and she thought it was funny, considering how just that morning, she was reluctant to help with the dishes.

She was about to visit Tabitha’s house to help her with the children like she usually did after she finished work at Objar’s, but what Ottfried said that morning floated to the forefront of our thoughts unbidden.

‘Now, even knowing this, if you still wish to learn to read, I will teach you.’

She found herself taking out the coins she hid away under her cot in the stables and buying a warm drink. No matter what, a good impression was a must when asking for a lesson.

“Erika.”

She paused on the stairs and looked back for the voice. She recognized it already, but she turned anyway. Ian stood at the entrance of the empty inn, breathing hard.

“Erika, I looked for you at Tabitha’s and you weren’t there so…”

“I have something to do today, so I decided to not go this time,” Erika said coldly and continued up the stairs.

“Wait, Erika. I want to apologize for what I did today. It was out of line. It’s just that I was so excited, so I wasn’t thinking,” Ian said. “I want to ask you for forgiveness, so I made you this… I only had enough time for one try, so…” he trailed off and held forward a rose of steel.

Erika pressed her lips together. “I can’t accept it. To tell the truth, it’s my dream to go beyond the village. I don’t want to stay here for the rest of my life. You should keep that flower for another girl that will cherish you,” she said. “I’m not the right person for you.”

“Beyond the village… are you going up to see that traveler again? There aren’t any others living here right now!” Ian shouted.

“Yes, I am! So what if I am? Why do you care who I go to see?” Erika shot back, the red mist from that morning flooding back.

“How am I inferior? I can offer you a stable future. Even if you follow him, all you will do is spend every day of your life living in the wilderness crawling with monsters!” Ian brought his hand back and threw the steel rose. It shot through the air, heading straight for her face.

Erika barely had time to register Ian’s look of realization and horror before the steel rose crashed into her cheek right below her right eye. The pain blinded that eye and she dropped the tea on the tray to cover her face.

The mug thudded against the wooden staircase and the contents spilled out, soaking into her shoes. It rolled hollowly before coming to rest again, clacking against the railing on the stairs.

Erika looked at the steel rose on the floor.

The surface of the metal was pitted. However, each petal was carefully bent into shape to breathe life into the metal. However, now, several of the petals were bent out of shape from the fall.

“E-Erika, I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to,” Ian started toward the stairs. “I just…”

“Stop right there, Ian Antonas. Don’t take another step forward to me,” Erika said. She took her hand off her face and picked up the fallen objects but leaving the rose, then straightened. She stood tall, glaring down at him. She felt something drip down her face, and it wasn’t just the tears from the pain. “Not a single word more out of you. I don’t want to hear it. And stay away from me in the future.”

Gripping the tray so hard her fingers turned white, she walked up the rest of the staircase, then turned into the hall with doors to the guest rooms.