“F-” Hineni clenches his mouth shut, catching himself before he lets out the swear. “Sorry.”

The books on the other side of the bookshelf move around as someone plays with them. “It’s okay…” says Seltsam.

Hineni’s eyes wander back down towards the old plan of the neighborhood she had dug up in a book on the city. It was written not long before the traumatic events of his childhood, so if the orphanage existed, in all likelihood, it would be here here.

But it isn’t.

“I looked everywhere. Really,” says Seltsam. “There’s an orphanage in the golden district. But that’s really just a tax-loophole that Avarice uses to save some money,” she explains. “I think you would definitely remember if you grew up there.”

Hineni shakes his head. “No… it was definitely lower class than that.”

“Well… there’s another one in the tower-district,” says Seltsam. “But they mostly keep kids with particular magical talent for the military.”

Hineni shakes his head. “No… pretty sure I didn’t land there,” he says. “Given that I don’t really look good in a uniform.”

She laughs, but then stops herself. “- Sorry. Was that rude to laugh at?” asks Seltsam. “I uh… I don’t really know.”

Hineni shakes his head, looking back down at the plan. “It was a joke. It’s okay,” he says. “It’s better that you laughed at it than if you didn’t.”

“Oh! Good!” she says, excitedly. “…So…”

Hineni’s eyes wander over the plan. “Seltsam. You’re smart,” he starts, listening to someone shuffle around on the other side of the shelving. “- What do you think?” he asks. “Can someone really just… imagine a whole childhood?”

“Well…” she starts. “It’s not really imagining, if it’s a traumatic repression,” she explains. “This is a well documented thing that has happened a lot,” explains the librarian. “You see it a lot on a small scale with people who forget details of events that make them be the bad-person in them,” she says. “But in really serious cases, like in people who come back from war and things like that, we see it sometimes too. There are a lot of stories.”

“I see…” replies Hineni, glad he has an answer of some sort. But also not really feeling satisfied with the one he has gotten.

“But… I… uh… hmm…”

“What?” asks Hineni, looking back up to the shelves.

“- No, no, it’s okay,” she says. “Never mind. You know me, haha! I don’t think about things before I say them,” explains Seltsam. “I guess we’re all learning a lot, aren’t we?”

Hineni looks at the shelf, as if it were her face. He simply has nothing else to look at. “Seltsam. What do you have?” he asks.

“Well…”

“Please,” says Hineni. “Eilig won’t talk about my childhood because of some dumb promise,” he explains. “I’ll take whatever bone you can throw me.”

“False memories,” replies Seltsam. “Like… you know, when you were doing the whole frog thing with the other god.”

Hineni crosses his arms. “False memories?” he asks, thinking about it for a moment. “In that weird life, it made sense for me to have false memories of my past,” he says. “That was Nekyia's whole plan to make me think that we grew up together,” explains Hineni. “But who would benefit from me having false memories of living in an orphanage in this life?” he asks, already knowing the answer that she is implying.

Only a god or the most extremely powerful of obscure casters could have the ability to manipulate someone’s perception of reality to this degree. In that other life of his, the frog-god, Nekyia, was the most notable presence in his existence. In this one, it could only be the owl-god, Obscura.

But to what end? To get him to marry her?

It’s a possible theory. He’s reasonable enough to admit it. If Nekyia could do so for herself, then Obscura could also do the same to pull reality towards her own desires.

— But does that even make any sense? What possible gain could she have out of it?

For Nekyia, it was because he was the only one who could live a forth life and thereby be compatible with her. But perhaps also because of their past, in the forest.

For Obscura, it was the third life and then the fifth, that only he could have. But also, because of their past, in the forest.

- The forest.

Hineni blinks, realizing.

He’s been so obsessed about the whole orphanage thing, that he hasn’t even looked into the real root of his past. The orphanage, his parents, this city, that all came much later in his life.

But before that, before his elven step-mother had kidnapped him to raise with the man she met in this city. He was a human baby in the elven forest of the southern regions of the world.

…Why?

His answers aren’t here in any plans of the city or this neighborhood. The deepest roots of the answer to his biggest questions of life are not available here.

They’re in the south.

“Thanks, Seltsam,” says Hineni, realizing that he’s been awkwardly quiet for a long time now.

“Oh! Uh, you’re welcome!” she replies. “Sorry I couldn’t help much, haha… Please don’t fire me.”

Hineni shakes his head, rolling up the plan of the city. He slides it back through the shelf towards her. “There’s not a chance that I would,” he says, turning around to leave. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with us,” replies Hineni, waving a hand idly over his shoulder as he leaves the library.

There’s a lot to think about.

“It was this big!” says Rhine, excitedly stretching out his arms to his sides.

Sockel rolls her eyes. “Please. It wasn’t even half of that.”

“It was!” argues Rhine, leaning in towards her. Sockel sighs, shaking her head.

“Good job, Rhine,” praises Hineni. “Don’t let the military hear how strong you’re getting though. I need you here,” he says, taking a drink from his mug.

Rhine nods, pulling his sleeves down and looking around the restaurant. It’s the middle of the day and everything is quiet. “Still though. It was a huge slime.” He thinks for a moment. “I wonder if we could use monster ingredients in our weaponcrafting?”

“Huh?” asks Hineni.

Rhine shrugs. “Well, you know, we always just use metal, right?”

“…Yeah?” asks the man.

“What if we, you know, used monster bones and stuff?” asks Rhine, blinking. Feeling Hineni staring, he lifts his hands. “Not that metal is bad or anything! It’s just… you know, there’s a lot of stuff in the dungeon.”

Hineni looks down at his mug, staring at the reflection that looks back up his way.

Every single person in this house is really smarter than he is, aren’t they? How could he have not thought of a simple, rudimentary, obvious idea like that?

“Rhine. I’d be lost without you,” says Hineni, setting down his mug. “Sockel, start buying all of the random monster bits you can get off of the adventurers,” he says. “Anything that looks like it’s workable.”

Sockel and Rhine exchange a look, before turning back his way.

“I’m fine,” says Hineni, seeing their wary expressions. “I just want to work while I figure stuff out, okay?”

“Fine,” says Sockel. “But you’re not going to go all psycho and deck the place out with goblin-teeth and stuff, are you?”

He shakes his head. “I won’t use goblin-teeth.”

“Oddly specific,” replies Sockel. “Whatever. Just keep it away from my desk,” she says, rotating the flower pot on the counter a little.

“Glad you feel at home here,” says Hineni, waving for Rhine to follow him. “Come on Rhine, let’s light the forge up for the day.”

Rhine nods, running after him and the two of them go to the forge to start on the latest batch of orders from the military.