The roaring bonfire gradually succumbed to the damp mountain air, its brilliant orange flames shrinking into a low, smoldering bed of crimson embers. Strands of pale white smoke curled lazily toward the starlit sky, carrying the bitter scent of charred pine and roasted meat. One by one, the lively circle began to fracture. The other youths departed under the watchful eyes of their respective house guards, their voices fading into the rustling valley below. Leonhart had been summoned minutes earlier by a stern, metallic click of Duke Lionhart's armored gauntlet, leaving only Kairo and Daichi to navigate the winding, cobblestone pathway that snaked upward toward the high academy walls.
The cold slate stone beneath Kairo's boots felt unyielding. The mountain breeze, sharp as a whetted blade, whistled through the high arched buttresses of the towering institute ahead. A lone night owl let out a low, mournful cry from a nearby pine branch, the sound echoing hollowly against the massive stone foundations.
Daichi kept his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his loose-fitting tunic, his long legs moving with a slow, deliberately sluggish gait. He glanced sideways at Kairo, his sharp, dark eyes glinting beneath the rim of his tilted straw hat. "So, I was wondering... you are just way too cool, Kairo. Like, you are a twelve-year-old. How could you conquer two nations?"
Kairo slowed his stride, his gaze fixing on the way the pale moonlight cast long, skeletal shadows of the trees across their path. The weight of his hidden memories—the phantom screams of dying soldiers and the smell of blood-soaked soil from the loop—pressed heavily against his temples.
"But I heard a noble say that the land was already destroyed," Kairo replied, his voice dropping to a measured, clinical register. He adjusted the leather strap of his satchel, feeling the tangible, rough grain of the hide against his palm. "Civil wars between dukes had already occurred in those lands. Nobles were ignoring royal orders. Corruption was already spreading across those territories. The governors had essentially become warlords."
He paused, watching a swirl of dust dance across the cobblestones in a sudden gust of wind. "Uhh... these people. I think it wasn't a good feat at all. And as they all know about my magic, this news may have already flown across other lands as well. It makes us a target."
Daichi let out a soft, dry chuckle, kicking a loose pebble with the toe of his boot. The small rock clattered into the darkness of the ravine beside the path. "Hmm. But still, no matter how much they talk, I prefer not to listen to them. You see, no matter what you do, people will always make it look like it isn't a big deal at all."
Stopping near a massive, iron-reinforced oak door that marked the rear entrance of the academy, Daichi leaned his shoulder against the damp stone trim. He looked at Kairo with a rare, serious expression breaking through his usual apathetic mask. "I would say don't get too cocky... and don't be lazy like me. You are a prince. This laziness of mine is the biggest enemy, but I can't help it at all. But Kairo, don't be like me."
A small, genuine laugh escaped Kairo's throat, the sound surprising even himself in the quiet of the night. "Oh, great. I don't know how to respond to that, but I think you are right. But anyway, start small from now. You will end up better. That's the cure for your laziness—it's all about consistency. But I think I have been in your shoes before, so I know it requires a lot of mental strength to break the cycle."
Daichi stared at the massive iron handle of the door, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. The distant, rhythmic ticking of a clock tower within the courtyard began to echo through the stone. "Yeah, I agree. But Kairo... are you ready to get inside the classroom?"
Kairo's fingers hovered over the cold iron latch of the door. The texture was rough, pitted with age and oxidation. "Yeah, I am ready, Daichi. I was curious about this new world. This land... I don't have any idea about its true depths. You know what I am talking about."
Daichi pushed the heavy oak door open. It swung inward with a deep, grinding groan of ungreased iron hinges, revealing a long, dimly lit corridor. The air inside smelled of old parchment, stale beeswax, and the damp, chalky scent of lime mortar. Shadows stretched long and thin down the hallway as the light from a single bronze chandelier overhead flickered in the draft.
"Yeah, no worry, no worry," Daichi muttered, stepping over the threshold into the quiet hall. His boots made soft, clicking sounds on the polished stone floorboards. "But I know when you first entered our land, people used to call you the 'fake prophecy kid,' a monster, or a demon who took a child's body to destroy our land. Okay, then. I will explain everything."
They walked side by side, their voices dropped to hushed whispers that bounced off the high, vaulted ceiling.
"First things first," Daichi began, his fingers lightly tracing the wooden wainscoting along the wall. "Our land is called the Land of Harmony. Where you have gone is the Land of Arrogance, or the Land of Lust. Have you ever wondered why people would call them such absurd names, instead of other, better names?"
Kairo kept his head straight, his analytical mind already dissecting the terminology, searching for the underlying historical variables. "Why? I am curious too."
"It's because of the forests," Daichi said, his voice dropping an octave as they passed beneath a stained-glass window depicting an apocalyptic downpour. "You know, our people of this land were expelled because we follow a new prophet. Long ago, there was a very powerful land that destroyed everything. That land started making new gods. People and magicians—especially the powerful ones—started making new gods and began worshipping them."
Kairo frowned, his brow furrowing as he recalled the stark lack of divine intervention he had witnessed during his multiple deaths. "Yeah. That's why I don't believe in any god. I was an atheist... but now I am confused about which god to choose. I will first learn every single religion, then choose one."
Daichi stopped dead in his tracks, turning his head so sharply his straw hat nearly slipped. He stared at Kairo with wide, incredulous eyes. "That's very bold of you to think in this religious land."
"Religious?" Kairo questioned, his voice flat, demanding clarification.
"Yeah, religious," Daichi whispered, leaning closer as a chill draft swept down the corridor, rattling the glass panes behind them. "Our people were expelled because of a new religion we followed. The old gods sent a devastating hazard upon them—a cataclysm that destroyed their entire nation in the blink of an eye."
Kairo felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, the atmospheric tension in the hallway shifting from quiet academy to a heavy, historical graveyard. "Yeah? Then what happened?"
Daichi took a slow, deep breath, the air whistling through his teeth as they resumed walking toward the heavy double doors of the main classroom. "After thousands of years, a new prophet came again. But this time, the people of this land knew this tragedy would happen. So, the prophet of that time led them to make a new land. To build everything from scratch. The very land you are standing on right now is that land."
"What about the absurd names?" Kairo asked, his pragmatism cutting straight through the mythological grandiosity.
"Well, it is because something weird happened afterward," Daichi explained, his hand resting on the brass handle of the classroom door. "The arrival of new entities came to this land."
Kairo's eyes narrowed. "What kind of entities?"
"Jinn," Daichi said plainly. "Or, in your words... Genie."
Kairo's mind instantly flashed to the ancient fairy tales of his past life—beings of smoke and brass locked in oil lamps. "Yeah, understandable. No wonder those people became stronger. Because genies came and fulfilled their wishes."
Daichi yanked his hand away from the door handle, turning to face Kairo with a look of complete, utter bewilderment. The flickering light of the chandelier caught the deep confusion on his face. "What are you even talking about? Is this a joke? There are evil and good genies, but... uhh, forget about it. You are talking about the genies of your world, am I right?"
Kairo froze, his heart skipping a beat as his own slip of the tongue registered in his analytical brain. He had referenced concepts from a world he shouldn't remember. He looked at Daichi, his voice tight.
"How did you know about it?"
The interior of the academy corridor seemed to contract, the high stone walls pressing inward as the draft from the stained-glass window died to a breathless, suffocating quiet. The single bronze chandelier overhead swayed with a microscopic rhythm, casting jagged, dancing shadows across Daichi's face.
Daichi let his shoulders drop, his casual, lazy posture returning like a shield. "I figured it out," he said, his voice carrying a soft, deadpan resonance that bounced off the cold slate floor. "Well, now you know why people call this the Land of Harmony. It is because we follow the one true God. We believe those who do not follow Him invite His wrath. When they began crafting new gods for their own profit, He became angry and sent those hazards—those absolute cataclysms—upon them."
Kairo's mind, always running a parallel track of analysis and survival, locked onto the inconsistencies. He could feel the cool, iron-dense air of the hallway filling his lungs, reminding him of his own physical displacement. "So..." Kairo began, his voice steady but low, "what about those absurd names? The Land of Arrogance, the Land of Lust... names like that?"
"Like I said, it is all about that forest," Daichi replied, his eyes drifting toward a dark, arched doorway at the far end of the hall. He exhaled a long breath, the faint moisture of his breath ghosting in the chilly air. "Genies came to those lands. The reason our elders forbid anyone from stepping foot inside those deep woods is because of the exceptionally powerful, malevolent genies residing there. And also... I heard a tale."
Kairo's fingers tightened against the rough strap of his satchel. "What tale?"
"You keep saying we are giants," Daichi said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur that barely carried over the low hum of the wind outside. "But there is a story of a group of people... entities, really. Genies used to live right among us, in the open. But when they crossbred—when they had children with humans—God grew furious. He handed down a punishment that changed their bloodline forever."
Daichi paused, letting the silence stretch until the rhythmic ticking of the distant clock tower felt like a physical pulse.
"Those children... they grew too strong. Way too big. There is a rumor floating among the elders that if one of them were to stand in the absolute middle of the great ocean, the water would barely reach up to their knees."
Kairo had just raised his copper canteen to his lips, taking a long, cooling draft of mountain spring water to soothe his dry throat. At Daichi's words, his throat spasmed. He coughed violently, the cold water spraying across the dark stone floor, splashing against the hem of his tunic. He wiped his mouth with the back of a trembling hand, his eyes wide.
"Wait... what?" Kairo managed, his voice cracking slightly. "Even in my world, we don't know the true depth of the deepest oceans. That would mean... his knees are higher than mountains. You must be kidding me."
"Yeah, Kairo. Mountains," Daichi said simply, gesturing toward the heavy masonry around them. He tapped his foot against the solid stone floor. "As you can see, we live in mountains. We carve these massive peaks and make our homes inside them because we believe these stone giants protect us from evil beings. And, of course, they keep us safe from the wild beasts of the lowlands."
Kairo stared down at the puddle of spilled water reflecting the pale chandelier light. Daichi's words triggered a sudden, vivid sensory recall—a rush of memories from his initial arrival that made his chest tighten with a familiar, cold dread.
Oh, I see, Kairo thought, his mind racing through the fragments of his early days. That is why, when I first crossed over into this world, I saw two suns hanging in the sky. The first sun was brilliant, glowing with an blinding light... but the other was pure darkness, a black sphere radiating an unnatural, cold shadow.
He remembered the division of the paths. The route leading toward the dark sun's forest had been impossibly beautiful—canopies of vibrant, luminescent violet leaves, the air thick with the sweet, intoxicating scent of nocturnal jasmine, and the gentle, inviting hum of exotic insects.
He had been paralyzed back then, a terrified child who couldn't even begin to comprehend that alien beauty because his mind was still shattered by the loss of his actual mother and father.
I still miss them, he admitted to himself, the grief a dull, heavy ache behind his ribs. But I will find a way back home. I will find it no matter what. But... I am afraid.
Daichi, noticing the sudden, rigid posture of his companion, tilted his head. "Afraid? Afraid of what, Kairo?"
Kairo looked down at his own hands. They were larger now, his knuckles calloused, his frame possessing a density that felt entirely foreign to the boy who had once lived behind a desk. "You know... I have become a giant myself in this place. I wonder... if I ever find the way back, will I even be able to survive there? The oxygen levels in my old world are so much lower than here."
He rubbed his temples, feeling the faint, rhythmic pulse of his blood. "I don't know how my body has evolved to survive this land's atmosphere. If I go back now... the scientists will go completely insane. People will look at me like I'm a god, or some kind of freakish anomaly." He let out a bitter, quiet sigh. "Even if I've only grown to be a large giant—say, eight feet tall—they might just think I'm genetically blessed. But either way, I will be the absolute center of attention. That is the one thing I never wanted."
Daichi watched him closely, his expression unreadable beneath the shadow of his straw hat. "So, what about the route you followed in the forbidden forest? I'm just way too curious. Why didn't you choose the beautiful, easy path? Why did you choose to climb a brutal mountain path instead—the one that literally made you go unconscious from exhaustion?"
Kairo's eyes darkened as a memory of his father's voice, clear and stern, echoed in his mind. "Well... it is because my father once told me: 'Satan makes the path to hell beautiful, while the path to heaven looks like hell itself.' He told me that back when I was lazy, back when I didn't want to strive for anything. Even though he... uh..."
Kairo suddenly clutched his forehead, a sharp, white-hot pain spiking behind his eyes. The images of his father's face began to blur, shifting into different features, different voices, overlapping like a corrupted digital file. His breath hitched. "...My brain."
"Hey, what's wrong?" Daichi asked, stepping forward, his lazy demeanor vanishing as he reached out a hand to steady Kairo's shoulder.
"I am... confused about my past," Kairo muttered, his teeth clenched against the throbbing pain in his skull. "I think... I think everything is fake. These dreams... they are actively altering my mind. I don't know what is real anymore. I don't know what is wrong and what is right."
Daichi's grip on Kairo's shoulder tightened slightly, the fabric of Kairo's tunic bunching under his fingers. "Well... it seems like those genies are altering your mind."
Kairo froze. The pain in his head vanished, replaced by a sudden, freezing spike of adrenaline. He slowly pulled away from Daichi's grip, his gaze locking onto his friend's eyes. The corridor felt dead silent, the wind outside completely gone.
"Wait," Kairo whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous, icy edge. "I never told you that I referred to the Jinn as 'genies.' I only said it in my own mind just now. How did you know that?"
Daichi did not flinch. A slow, knowing smile crept across his face—a look that was entirely too sharp, too ancient for the lazy boy Kairo thought he knew.
Without saying a single word of explanation, Daichi turned on his heel. He pushed open the heavy wooden classroom doors, letting the bright, warm lamplight of the room wash over his shoulders.
He paused at the threshold, glancing back over his shoulder with a casual wave of his hand.
"Don't put pressure on your tiny brain, oh Prince."
And with that, he stepped into the light, leaving Kairo standing alone in the cold, breathing in the scent of old dust and unanswered questions.