Chapter 1 ❆ New Spring

When we got settled in the Temple, we were only given the most comfortable place they could spare—meaning, considering the very limited space of the place, it was nothing much. There were already many refugees that set up camp all around. Although I was not able to get a good look at them or their living conditions before, they seemed to have set up small, makeshift tents with the use of tattered material. They lined the outside with leaves to fend off the wet days and also lined the ground with makeshift carpets made of roughly the same materials so that they would stay dry. Somehow.

I wonder where these people go to…well, relieve themselves? I do suppose the temple had restrooms—it would be impossible if there weren't. I was used to warm baths and long soaks because I was a water baby—if that term was even correct. Nonetheless, I knew in this day and age that my baths were a luxury. I didn't expect to find that here.

The Abbot apologized he could not offer us better accommodation. It wasn't like they could displace the inhabitants that came there first, so we had to settle with what they could give us. Also, it helped with the cover even more, I suppose?

The idea wasn't bad. Although Erenol was probably not used to humble living, she made no complains. In fact, both she and Maun were rather excited at the prospect of living in a tent. They associated the idea with campfires and roasted meat—sleeping under open and starlit skies.

I knew it wasn't all that, though.

They were naïve. Knowing these two, especially Erenol, they would tire of it very quickly. I was not sure about Maun because where this boy came from and who he was were still pretty much a mystery to everyone else; to me especially. He'd not spoken—not that he literally could—a word about his past to me, even though my mistresses seemed to have a clearer idea about it.

I was reminded by the conversation I eavesdropped on between him and Aunt Safia—if that could even be called a conversation. It seemed the reason why he'd ended up the way he did was because his kind did not easily fall from ordinary blades…or methods of murder. They were like this invulnerable specie of beings that could some conjure scales on their skin and defend themselves.

Who was Maun? More so, what was he?

I've never heard of one of this world's human race…s from possessing such capabilities. Vertvaldenians seemed like probable subjects, but then he didn't resemble them physically. Did they grow scales like he did? I doubted it.

I had my inklings, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Evy, what say you about going with Eren and Maun to fetch some blankets from the monks while Kora and I set up the tents?"

I nodded, breaking free from my line of thought to obey the request.

"Can't I help you set up?" Eren inquired, gazing at Mistress Veronika.

"Very well. Come here then. We need to get creative, so you ought to help out well, alright? Evy, the Abbot should have arranged for someone. Try finding them in the main hall."

I nodded again.

Maun unhesitatingly tailed after me. We went through the open grounds and encountered many people in their makeshift homes just living out their daily lives. They were all foreign faces, half similar to mine. Their skin was that trademark, beautiful burnished brown. However, their faces were marred with poverty, making them look rather dull and weary.

It was good to take note of how bright their eyes seemed to remain—a unique warrior light that spoke of hope and bravery. Seeing their soulful gazes and catching them, I felt a burn of determination. The numbness I had been fraught with the past few days seemed to have faded, and my heart was slightly enlivened with a spark. It shocked me somewhat. But I understood. These people were in a situation very similar to mine. They were all displaced from the places they'd known their entire lives due to a struggle.

And part of it might've been my fault. Did I have to live with this guilt of knowing and having the ability and knowledge put a stop to it?

I found they possessed a rather wide arrange of hair and eye colors just like the people of Erindal. I didn't get to properly examine their appearances before because I was overwhelmed with many details. Nevertheless, it seemed the predominant characteristics among this community were black hair and eyes, while there would be occasional deviants. I was suspecting they all came from the same place.

I felt a tug on my sleeve. Maun had clung to the end of it and was following me with a pout.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing," he signed.

I didn't try asking him anymore, but he probably was just worried. I wasn't very talkative to begin with and I was shutting myself in all the more now. I just didn't see much point in talking. I knew this was something I had to get over eventually, but, then again, grieving was a long process. It felt harder this time around. It was supposed to go easier the more it happened, but perhaps this wasn't one of those things.

Maun was getting better at sign language. The next thing I ought to teach him was probably to shut up, then again, he was much too adorable to do that to.

This probably was one of the few instances that my knowledge of my past life came in handy. I knew enough about signing to be able to talk adeptly with it. I had volunteered in a school for deaf and mute as it was a part of one my course requirements for college—which did not exactly make it "volunteering." We didn't have to stay in the school after that "volun-told" project, but I found it was quite a nice place if you didn't want to be lonely so I found myself going there as often as I could.

After retrieving the blankets from the monk, we went back to find our tent all set up. There were two. The other would house the boys and the other one would be for the mistress, Eren, and me. Eren was a little too excited. Perhaps the idea of living in a tent was a new and exciting prospect she'd never tried before. I reckon, however, that in the next few days, she would be full of complains.

And I was right.

It wasn't even two days later that I heard her complaining about a sore back. I was even surprised it took her this long. It seemed she was a little more resilient than I first thought. Mistress Veronika quickly got her to keep the complains under her tongue because we were in no place to be choosy or picky.

Erenol pouted.

"They can be offered some bed," the Abbot announced as he approached, having overheard our conversation.

We turned to his direction and lowered our heads in greeting upon his arrival.

"Really?" Eren asked, brimming with hope.

"That's right. You've got to work for it though." The Abbot gave a warm and fond smile at her. "And I suspect this is what your mistress brought you here for."

Eren was a little disappointed at that. "How do we?"

"Training of the mind and body," he said. "The temple opens its arms to students every year—a select few, to come in as disciples and be taught by our masters. You have no need to pay remuneration for it. It's our way of passing down the legacy and ways of the temple. Veronika had been a part of it before. She knows how it works."

Eren suddenly had a 'oh, hell no' look on her face. Still, she continued to ask, "How does it work?"

"You only need to be a Conduit. We actually host our students on different grounds. It's on the other side of this wall," he said, motioning for the grounds beyond the tall walls behind us. I turned to look at it. "It's a little secluded, which is a must for other things such as meditation, although they may leave and walk around for physical training from time to time to find good spots."

Erenol looked torn.

"Think about it, young one. The selection is seven days from now. If you want, you can simply walk up and take the test." He gave us all a smile. "Then, I will take my leave." The Abbot walked off quietly, his heavy robes swishing as he moved.

"Maun will have no problem with that," Eren muttered dejectedly. "But I don't like this stuff."

Maun looked at her cluelessly.

"There's no free meal in the world. Now you know," I said.

"Are you planning on going for it?" Eren asked me. "If you do, I will."

"Maybe," I replied and proceeded to look over to Mistress Veronika who was quietly knitting…grass? It seemed she'd taken some long, stringy leaves and were weaving them together.

"The selection will not be easy," Mistress Veronika said, hearing our conversation. "The temple can only afford to take in five disciples each year to inherit the Way of the Gods. It might not seem big to you, but there are many who are interested. The training of the temple is superior and can rival those of the War College. However, with the limited resources and restriction, they can only afford to open doors to a select few."

"Do you want us to try out for it?" I inquired, fixing the cloak I had around my shoulders to shield myself from the frigid weather. It didn't snow in Lovarda like the more northern parts of Erindal. Nevertheless, the temperature can drop quite low.

"This will be of benefit to you. If you become students of the temple, you will have better protection," she said. "But if you don't, then it's fine as well. I can continue training you myself."

Mistress Veronika must have taken this into account when we came here.

Maun, Erenol, and I exchanged glances.

Maun signed to me, "Which one is better?"

"You mean which one is worse?" I signed back without verbalizing my words.

Mistress Veronika was a spartan. Who didn't say the monks in the temple weren't as well? The mistress came from their teaching after all. Also, considering the sobriety of affairs in the temple, things weren't bound to be that simple as well. And there was still that monk. Old Myrrh if I recall his name right. I had not seen him since we had arrived two days ago.

"What are you talking about?!" Erenol grunted, breath fogging.

I smiled at her. "You wanna know, you gotta learn."

Erenol was even more frustrated. "Ugghhh! I hate this."

As Eren went off with a tantrum, I decided to busy myself with other things—like visiting the temple library once more. The monk assigned to taking care of the place had grown familiar with me over the past few days considering this had been my hangout for a majority of the time. He just let me in and didn't mind my presence, though he looked curious why I kept coming back. The contents in there were very…boring, I suppose. So boring that not even the monks who were supposed to be reading them were reading them at all—only the occasional head popping in due to necessity. They were nothing like the collection of books that we had back in Oblivion. The temple books had very basic meditation methods, the concepts of spirituality, basic physical training, basic prayers, so on. They were so basic that they were bitter…funny chemistry, I suppose.

Still, I was so bored I read even the boring stuff. Might be useful later on. Hopefully.

I miss my old world. I miss surfing through the internet and playing video games. What Game of Thrones season are people on? Now that I've reincarnated, I probably would never know. Like, shut up, I should have drunk from that lake if it meant suffering like this.

After going through some books and napping in the library (by accident) I trudged my way back to the camping grounds, quietly walking through the garden of tents where the other refugees were taking shelter in.

I must say, compared to Erindalians, these people were quite the close-knit community type.

Despite their initial wariness of our arrival, they quickly warmed up to us enough for them to ignore us but acknowledge us amiably when the situation called for it. I wasn't supposed to know their language so I pretended not to understand them while they talked. I relied on what I could deduce from their body language, but it was hard—partly because it was a little funny acting stupid. The language barrier was another issue that separated us, but that gave us some peace in return.

The Vertvaldenians had set up some large bonfire in the middle of the camp when I returned, which obstructed the original path I was supposed to take back to our tent. There were women arranging the bonfire into something as large as one of the regular tents. The wood has piled up so high it was a little ridiculous.

I observed them for a while, wondering what it was they were doing.

"Excuse me," someone exclaimed in some language I wasn't familiar with. I understood it, nonetheless, thanks to my built-in word processor. The translation was spat inside my brain no sooner than it was spoken.

I stepped to the side and looked over my shoulder. There were two guys with vibrant prints on their bodies—patterns coiling in dark blue, portraying images of animals and geometric patterns. They'd taken off their shirts and their skins were gleaming with a thin layer of sweat. They towed behind them a two-wheeled cart that had a boar as large as a grown man's torso along with some sacks of vegetables and some logs.

I looked on curiously and listened as a conversation broke between the man with the boar and a woman encased in colorful, weaved blankets. If I recall correctly, she had been among those tending to the bonfire when I arrived.

"Elion…you…" the woman was aghast. "But we…how did you get your hands on this?"

"I worked day and night to scrape together some funds to be able to hunt this meat." Elion finally stopped. He let the cart tip over to the ground a little before landing a fist on his chest. He looked like a fairly young man. Not more than twenty-five.

"Are there any forests here nearby?" the woman inquired.

"It was cheaper gathering tools and traveling to have this," the guy behind Elion said. He was around the same age as him, but looked more robust. He had a thicker frame as well. "This type of meat apparently fetches a high price in the market. We plan to go back to hunt some more and sell them for some money. That way, we can afford some new clothes and hopefully find a better accommodation."

"Let's not mind that for now," said the woman. Her voice cracked a little, her eyes tearing up. "I didn't think we'd get to celebrate the Aneralus at all at this rate. It would've been enough being able to at least light up the fire."

Elion smiled brightly. "No worries, mother. We have some meat to roast now. I know this may not be enough to feed everybody, but at least we can have some of the old tradition. Unfortunately, this place doesn't have olum chilis and fragrant lily pods. I don't think we can cook it the way we do."

Olum chilis and fragrant lily pads? Were those things I could make a scent out of?

"That's not important anymore. Start preparing the meat and we'll get some clean water from the spring. Instead of roasting, let's just make a stew so that everyone gets to eat."

"Good idea."

As if sensing me, the guy named Elion turned. He looked into the shadows of my hood, trying to find my face. I veered away from the attention and leaped off to hide away.

I never heard of this Aneralus before but it seemed to be quite an important event—probably with the same exalted status as Christmas. It must be quite complex because even my head couldn't translate it for me. I could recall reading something like this…I just couldn't recall what it was for and what it signified, exactly.

While I wanted to stay and watch to satiate my curiosity, I knew it would be rude to linger considering how I was technically an outsider. Still, this was also still a part of me, right? Considering the other half of my blood was Vertvaldenian, wasn't this something I was obligated to know? Maybe I could come back to take a look at how they would proceed with this event. It seemed to be that big of a deal, after all.

Why was I even running away? It wasn't like that guy planned to give a chase at all. He was already busy with those stuff with the Aneralus, whatever that was.

I wanted to take a nap in the tents. This weather was making my very drowsy. I missed that old tree that I used to take a nap under while holding a good book. A part of me wondered when I would get to see it again.