Chapter CXLVI

The village must have around forty houses, most of them built around the main road that runs through the entire valley where it is located. From that number, I assume the village has around two hundred inhabitants.

Looking around, all the houses seem to be made of wood. Which makes sense considering the number of trees in this valley, with the exception of the long fields stretching out along one side of the road.

This doesn't exactly suggest the kind of wealth I would expect from a place that had discovered a magical crystal mine. Of course, that could be an illusion.

But even so, I have to feel a little more relieved.

This village looks, in every respect, like a simple farming community.

Ahead of us, a group of children appears, points at us, a group of strangers, and runs into the village.

Which, for some stupid reason, isn't walled.

Either way, I still feel somewhat uneasy.

The fact that the stash I was expecting to find in Inverten hadn't left even a trace is still weighing on me. All of this would have been so much simpler if I had access to that fortune.

Making me wonder whether there might not be anything in that mine at all. A rather worrying possibility.

Even more intriguing because the Temple of Divine Trials matched my memories perfectly, including the way to enter through the back.

At the very least, I have to find something that validates my memories enough to make me more comfortable.

After all, as far as I remember, there were missions in the game involving around four different mines.

This one should be the closest and most convenient.

As long as we don't descend into the lower levels, there shouldn't be any problems.

“How do we explain our presence here?” Grumpy asks me, probably already thinking of some kind of excuse.

“The best thing is to say we're hunters,” the big guy with the axe answers.

That sounds good enough. It should work as well as anything else. And considering he was able to identify the name of this village, he probably knows better.

So I nod at Grumpy.

“Good. Then everyone knows it! We're here to hunt in the mountains.”

The others nod in agreement with Grumpy.

And I can return to contemplating this village that seemed to appear out of nowhere, which we are rapidly approaching.

As we reach the outskirts of the houses, my suspicions are confirmed once again.

The houses don't seem to have been built with resources that came from outside the area. While, their simplicity also suggests that they were built with as little effort as possible.

Closer to the middle of the village, there is a larger building than the ones surrounding it.

The chief's house, or more likely an inn or some kind of local meeting hall.

“The village inn!” Blondie exclaims, pointing at the same building I had just noticed.

The silence around us demonstrates that the others have reached the same conclusion.

So we continue walking toward it. The best place to learn the local news and possibly buy something.

Or at least find out where the market is.

Although, considering the size of the village, it's unlikely there is one.

As we approach the inn from one side of the road, a well covered by a roof comes into view, surrounded by a group of women and children.

Probably the village's main source of drinking water.

The children begin pointing at us.

They must be the ones who saw us earlier, before we entered the village.

Since there are only women and children here, and considering the time of day, the men, and probably some of the women, must be working in the fields.

Nobody approaches us.

Some of the women even hold onto a few of the children to stop them from running over.

The others look at me as if asking whether we should try talking to them.

But considering how uncomfortable they seem in our presence, there is no point in bothering them.

So I nod toward the inn.

People there should be more comfortable dealing with strangers.

As we start walking again, a loud voice echoes through the village.

“Alveric!”

With that, an elderly woman who, back home, I would guess to be around sixty or seventy years old, appears almost out of nowhere.

She comes toward us at full speed.

Because of the woman's strange and confusing approach, the mule starts moving toward her.

Obviously considering her a threat, although I find it hard to believe that this short and clearly frail white-haired woman could be a danger to any of us.

But in this world, it is better to be careful.

You never know exactly what a seemingly weak appearance might be hiding.

So I focus and use the latest trick I've acquired.

Closing my eyes, I imagine myself clicking on the spell I want.

Ortan's Shield.

I silently cast the best defensive spell I have.

At the same time, I touch the approaching undead mule, signaling for it to move away and not attack the woman.

With that, my attention is momentarily taken away from her. Contributing to me almost jumping when I feel someone grab my arm.

When I focus on the woman again, she starts scolding me.

“Where have you been, my boy?”

What the hell is going on here?

I wonder as I look around, but nobody seems to know what to do.

“So you aren't going to say anything?” the woman asks me.

“Ma'am...” I try to explain that she must be mistaking me for someone else.

“Ma'am!? Don't talk to your aunt like that!” the woman replies with bizarre confidence.

“Aunt Lora! Aunt Lora!”

A girl in her twenties appears, shouting and running toward us.

Meanwhile, everyone else around the well simply watches, although some of the children try to follow the girl.

The old woman turns toward the girl but doesn't let go of me.

“Aunt Lora, please, you can't run around like that. Your brother is going to be furious with me,” the girl begins as she gets close to us.

“Oh, don't worry, dear. I'm just scolding my nephew.”

Presumably she means me.

Before the girl, whose face is practically begging for forgiveness, can say anything, another voice makes itself heard.

“Lora, what are you doing? Leave that boy alone!”

From the other side of the road, an old man appears, leaning on a cane while approaching as quickly as he can.

“It's because you keep spoiling him that he thinks he doesn't have to help with the household chores,” the old woman complains.

“What are you talking about...?”

He looks confused and tense, but there is also a faint smile on his face.

Until it suddenly disappears.

The old man slows down before asking,

“Lora, who do you think he is?”

“You're getting senile, old man. You don't even recognize Alveric, your own nephew!”

Her answer turns the man's face as pale as a sheet.

A faint murmur spreads among the spectators at the well.

“Lora...”

He says it with a mixture of emotions that I can't even begin to understand.

“Mrs. Lora...” the girl begins, but clearly loses her courage before finishing.

She grabs the old woman's arm, while the old woman is still holding onto me with both hands.

“Lora, dear, don't you remember that Alveric is no longer with us?” the man asks her.

Which seems to indicate that this Alveric person is already dead and that the woman is having some kind of episode.

Which, on one hand, is good. Her conviction was already making me wonder if I had somehow changed worlds again.

And that this time I was Alveric fellow.

“I'm sorry, young man, but my sister has been confused lately...”

The man's apology seems sincere, and I can find no reason to doubt him.

So I nod.

But that immediately results in an angry response.

“I'm not confused! You're the one who's confused. You don't even recognize your own nephew anymore!”

Looking around, I see the confusion within my own group.

But I also see concern not only on the faces of the man and the girl, but also among the women and children around the well.

The woman is very clearly confused.

And considering her age and the potential traumatic loss of someone close to her. Like her nephew apparently was...

Well, I don't want to say the word dementia.

I focus on the girl, who appears to be the main caregiver, and have to ask her,

“Good day or bad day?”

She hesitates for a moment before quietly answering,

“Good!”

I don't like getting involved, but...

“Grumpy, you're in charge. You know what to do...” The dude looks at me in surprise. But to whom else could I delegate what was to be done in the inn? Blondie!!!

I add to the old woman's benefit,

“I have to go with my... aunt.”

She, in turn, gets a victorious expression, as if she has just been vindicated.

“Nero, is she really your aunt?” Blondie asks, completely bewildered.

I can only shake my head and call him,

“Idiot.”

Before his friend pulls him along and they start moving on.

The old woman, meanwhile, starts pulling me along with her. While her brother reaches our side.

“Thank you!”

That's all he says.

As for me, I have to ask,

“Have you tried potions?”

The answer should be yes, but you never know.

“Normally, she just becomes quieter,” he replies.

An explanation that makes some sense.

Even in the game, potions weren't useful for everything.

Some conditions could only be removed using very good and specific potions, which, as a rule, came from the Islands.

The better way to remove things like certain diseases or changes in status, though...

“Have you been to a temple?”

That would be the best place. A silver coin as a donation and the problem would be solved. The only annoying part would be how long it takes to reach one.

“Some of the younger people in the village have already talked about it...”

Smart young people, if I may say so.

“But the time and risks involved in the journey, combined with the cost, I don't think it's worth burdening the village with something like that.”

Costs?

A silver coin isn't that much.

Not for a complete cure.

The journey itself...

“I already looked into it. Just getting in line for treatment would cost a small fortune... more than I can afford.”

A line!?

Since when are there lines to ask for a blessing?

Yet another thing that has changed!

“What are you two talking about?” the old woman asks, apparently frustrated with us.

“Nothing, nothing,” we both answer.

Meanwhile, I prepare myself for my 'aunt's' chores.