After more than 20 minutes, neither Bernard nor Elara were able to find even hints of any resemblance to what was depicted on my body. The blacksmith slammed the book shut in irritation, kicking up a small cloud of dust.
"Empty. All for nothing. These records speak of elemental runes - fire, water, wind. But absolutely nothing about what is depicted on him. There is no symmetry in them. They look as if..." — he paused, choosing his word.
"As if they were made up on the fly"
Elara, in turn, sighed heavily, stepping away from the table and rubbing her neck.
"Maybe the book is too old? Or those who wrote it simply didn't see everything?"
Bernard sighed and threw the book back into the leather bag, putting it over his shoulder.
"Elara, these are the records of the best seekers. If there isn't even a hint of such signs here, it means your Aren is either a carrier of something that seekers weren't that interested in, and they are always interested, believe me, or he simply lost a bet being a sailor, for which the poor fellow was covered in tattoos from head to toe, and fortunately for him, these drawings do not look as terrible as the kind of perversions they usually cover losers with" — Bernard asserted with obvious irritation, saying all this to Elara's face, and then went out to the exit on the landing leading to the first floor.
Elara anxiously tried to catch up with him, arguing with him along the way.
"That's just the point, that nobody would cover themselves with tattoos of this kind just because of strange circumstances like a lost bet! This is clearly done..." — before she could finish, Elara stops behind Bernard, who had stopped in the doorway with his back to her.
Then he turned to her sharply with even greater irritation.
"Well then, our friend loved strange symbols so much that he covered himself with them at some master's place and after events unknown to us, his memory was knocked out so much that he doesn't even remember this! I've had enough, Elara. It's time for me to go. Dara will kill me if I don't make it to the capital with her today!" — Bernard said, having gone down the stairs and headed toward the exit of the house.
Having looked at the doorway of the landing for a few seconds, Elara turns to me, sighing, then smiled slightly, resting her hands on her hips.
"Well, at least we know that this is not connected with the Shogunate... well, rather, we don't know yet..."
I look at her, understanding every word, except for the strange names, from which I manage to catch the essence, but many questions remain from the details.
"Shogiynath?" — I asked, stumbling slightly.
Elara flinched at the sound of my voice. She came closer, her face softened, and a light of pedagogical patience lit up in her eyes, the kind usually shown to children or those who are relearning to walk.
"Sho-gu-nate. It's..." — she hesitated, trying to find words that would be understandable to a person with an empty memory.
"It's a very distant place. There is a lot of water, fog, and people who believe that every sign on paper or skin has its own power. We thought you sailed from there because of your... drawings."
She went to the window through and pointed her hand somewhere far beyond the horizon.
"But Bernard is right about one thing - if there are no such signs in his books, it means you are an even bigger mystery to us than we thought. And Bernard... don't be angry with him. He has an important day today. He is taking Dara, his close friend, to Ockhaven - that's the big city behind the walls. There is a holiday or a big market there today, I've already gotten confused in their city affairs".
She turned to me, and her gaze lingered on my shoulders. I stood straight, and now that the room was empty, my strong figure seemed even more alien in this fragile village house.
"You need to get dressed, Aren. I prepared my father's things... they are old, but strong. It's not right for a guest to walk around in just scraps of pants, especially if we decide to go out to people".
When Elara handed me the stack of things, surprisingly, I immediately understood what exactly I should do, or rather, almost understood. Unexpectedly for Elara, I was about to take off my pants right in front of her, clearly having no idea what etiquette was.
Elara shrieked, turning away sharply and covering her face with her palms. My fingers, which had already touched the belt of the scraps of pants, froze. In my mind, this action was a logical continuation of the process of changing clothes, but the girl's violent reaction frightened me slightly with its unexpectedness.
Elara's voice broke on a high note, she almost pressed her forehead against the doorframe.
"Stop! Aren! Oh Gods... You... you can't do it like that! Just... just wait until I go out!"
She quickly slipped into the corridor, leaving the door open only by a narrow crack. I heard her intermittent breathing and how she was hurriedly adjusting her apron, trying to cope with the embarrassment. Despite how much information was coming in and forming in my consciousness, I still did not know or understand that to her I was not just a foundling, but a man whose presence in the house already disturbed the usual way of life of the Greenfield family.
Elara quietly addressed me from behind the door, still agitated:
"It's called... privacy. Men and women... they don't do that in front of each other if they aren't... anyway, just get dressed yourself. The shirt should fit; my father was as broad-shouldered as you".
Left alone in the room, my gaze fell on the stack of things. On top lay a shirt made of coarse, unbleached linen, smelling of a chest and dried lavender. Under it were pants made of thick brown fabric, belted with a leather strap. Taking each item, intuition coupled with self-forming knowledge in my head helped me understand what, where, and how to put on, just by looking at each item unfolded.
When I finally dressed, the sensations of the fabric evoked unfamiliar but understandable feelings in me. The girl, standing behind the door and considering further plans for today, heard my voice from behind the door.
"I... finished" — I said, not being completely sure that I had correctly chosen and pronounced the words.
Elara opened the door and looked at me, her gaze sliding from bottom to top; she froze in the doorway, and for a moment silence reigned in the room. Her gaze, initially frightened and embarrassed, now became thoughtful and a bit sad. The shirt of coarse linen tightly fitted my shoulders, and its sleeves barely hid the black weave of runes on my wrists.
She took a step closer, carefully adjusting the collar, trying not to touch my skin where the symbols disappearing under the fabric were still clearly visible. Her embarrassment was gradually replaced by the practicality of the mistress of the house, but the question still read in her eyes: who am I really?
"Your speech is returning quickly, that is a good sign. Now..." — she hesitated for a moment, looking at my bare feet.
"We need to find you some shoes and figure out what to do next before the villagers start asking questions".
She turned to the window, behind which the distant laughter of children and the noise of working mills were heard. Hearing new words, my consciousness adjusted as usual and formed a meaning for each of them, but a couple of them drew my special attention.
"Questions... villagers...village..." — I began to stare thoughtfully at one point while a logical chain was building in my head.
"Questions... question... answer... speak... tell... listen... understand... knowledge" — muttering under my breath, I was very focused, although I looked quite strange from the outside. Suddenly, I looked up at Elara, addressing her with hope and greater confidence.
"Tell me... about the village. I want to listen... have knowledge".
She froze, surprised by how quickly my mind was building connections between sounds and meanings. Smiling warmly, she approached the window, gesturing for me to look at the sprawling lands.
"Of course, Aren. Our village is called "Golden Flow". We are on the edge of the Waldruhm Kingdom. Everything is simple here: we grow bread, watch the mills, and take care of each other".
She pointed to the colossal blades of the Wind Raiders working in the distance.
"A village is people. Everyone knows each other here. Bernard is our best blacksmith, Grandmother Martha bakes the best bread in the kingdom. In our village, everyone values honesty and kindness, and if your intentions are good, then you can always count on local support in return".
She fell silent, staring into the horizon where the golden ears of grain swayed in the wind like a living sea.
Listening to her carefully, an unpleasant feeling did not leave me, which was hard for me to describe or understand at that moment. The knowledge gained about this place gave me nothing more than just names and dry definitions of the words that sounded from the girl's mouth.
Noticing my heavy and upset face, she began to guess that despite the rapid recovery of speech memory, her words were doing little to help me restore the memory of who I am and why I am here. Thinking for a moment, Elara's empathy and kindness, as well as intuition, made her straighten up decisively and, with a smile on her face, take everything into her own hands to help a person who had encountered such an unusual problem.
"Well, since you have already remembered how to speak and you understand our speech, it means everything is not so bad, and all we need is just time!" — with a positivity unexpected to me, Elara took off her apron and threw it on a chair, turning back to me once again.
"Fortunately for you, Waldruhm is one of the most peaceful kingdoms in Prime, and therefore here you can feel safe. You can live with us until you fully restore your memory, and I will help you with this".
Elara was simultaneously gathering some items into a small bag and taking out a deep woven basket.
"By the way, I'm sure Leo will also be glad to help you, considering how much he knows about our world and the technologies of every state of Prime. And now, try to put on these boots; a friend of mine left them for me to mend, and I think he won't mind if you wear them now while we go to get suitable footwear for you".
She placed a pair of leather boots before me that already looked worn, but at the same time quite well-maintained and neat. Probably, they looked like that after Elara had worked on them.
Putting them on, I stood up and inspected each foot.
"Well? Can you last in them for the next half hour?"
Elara is looking attentively, having crossed her arms at her chest.
"Hm... big..." — I answered thoughtfully, feeling the excessive free space in the area of the toe and heels.
Elara laughed slightly, taking the basket in her hands.
"Well, that was expected. Einer is quite tall, although not as... sturdy as you, so his feet are expectedly larger."
Elara's light laughter evoked a sense of warmth and peace in me, making it much easier even in the moment when I felt absolutely lost or even abandoned in this world unknown to me.