“Eh, are you hurt?”

  Miss Mira gently touched the swollen bruise on Aren’s cheek, making him shiver as a sharp sting shot through him.

  “Oh, this… no, no. I just fell down the stairs. It doesn’t hurt that much.”

  “You should be more careful. Anyway, what were you doing there?”

  “Ah, you see… there was this little girl.”

  Aren briefly explained the situation to her.

  “What? You should have informed the city guards.”

  ‘City guards? Are they like the police?’

  They reported the incident to several people wearing deep-blue long coats, each bearing a badge marked with the symbol of open wings.

  ‘So there are city guards. Even their uniforms are different.’

  After finishing the report, they headed home as the clock drew closer to 13:00.

  As they walked briskly through the streets, Aren noticed paper lamps being installed all around the town.

  “Is there some kind of festival coming up?” he asked.

  “Yes, the Dragon King Festival. It’s celebrated across all seventy-seven planets. It’s a shame you don’t remember it, it’s a lot of fun.”

  “Eh, of course. What a shame.”

  When Mira had rescued him that day, Aren had told her he fell from the sky and lost all his memories. An outdated lie, yet one that still worked to this day. Despite having no injuries to support his claim, she had simply smiled and accepted it.

  ‘Must be common in a world where dragon riders are real.’

  “So what kind of festival is it?” Aren coughed and asked.

  “It’s the Mana Awakening Festival, of course.”

  ‘Mana awakening…’ Aren pondered for a moment.

  In the room he was staying in, he had found several books related to this topic.

  Although he had only read one, mostly to experiment with his newly acquired language-comprehension ability, he had gathered some information. Still, it felt like reading an amateur book written on Earth.

  Well, it was a fairy tale.

  According to the story, from the seventy-seven unhatched eggs of the great World Dragon, the seventy-seven planets were formed, and humans were allowed to live upon them. But one day, Walls of Shadows appeared. From the other side, alien invaders poured into the world, devouring humans and destroying civilizations. When humanity faced certain extinction, the Dragon Kings chose to share their power with selected humans. They gained godlike strength, and humanity finally had a chance to survive. That stalemate continued to this day, and even now, some humans still awakened as Sorcerers.

  “So when is the festival?” Aren asked.

  “In two days.”

  ‘Two days… should I try?’

  “That reminds me,” she said, pulling something from her pocket. “Here, your new identity card.”

  “Oh… how did you get this? Wait, you didn’t bribe them, did you?”

  “Of course not. I used to work there, so I still have some connections.”

  He took the card. With his poorly detailed information and a dark photo taken from Mira’s latest technology phone camera, although far from a modern smartphone, the image was barely recognizable.

  “Aren…” he read the name on it. “Wait…Aren Wyrd?”

  “Eh, I didn’t know your last name, so I added mine. By the way, do you remember yours?”

  “…No. I don’t even want to remember,” he replied after a brief hesitation.

  ‘Wyrd… like word. Does it suit me?’

  Seeing his conflicted expression, Mira chuckled.

  “You know, your mood has improved a lot compared to before. You seem to be getting used to this life.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Am I?”

  With their conversation unfinished, they reached their tiny home, the only place Aren had to survive in this world.

  ‘I am really getting used to this world. I need to find that dragon, or another way home. But in the meantime, I need to earn something. I can’t keep leeching off her.’

  While Mira cooked, Aren went to his assigned room with a bag of ice to his face to study the children’s books once more. There might be some clue about another world, or hopefully a way to travel between them.

  “Sigh… there’s nothing.”

  As Aren rolled around on the bed, his gaze fell upon a photo frame half-hidden inside a partially opened drawer. He picked it up and examined it.

  “It’s Miss Mira and… a kid. That must be her son. But where is he now?”

  Actually, this was the first time he had found something like this in the house. He stood up and searched the drawer thoroughly.

  There were many more photographs.

  In every single one of them, it was always the two of them.

  And they looked… happy.

  *****

  As the sun, or whatever source this light and heat came from, began to thin, Mira and Aren headed toward a nearby temple.

  Not that Aren wanted to visit foreign gods, but as novels often said, information was key.

  The temple, or rather the temples resembled pagoda-like structures perched on a hill, connected by a long climb of stone stairs.

  He followed the same traditional procession as Mira, washing their feet in clear water before entering the sacred grounds barefoot.

  At the center stood a single dome-like structure where the King of All Dragons was worshipped.

  The moment they entered, the heavy scent of incense flooded Aren’s senses. With the upcoming festival, more accurately, a trial for the younger generation to make a name for themselves, the temple was packed to the brim with nervous youths and greedy parents, all praying for their children to become Sorcerers.

  ‘Whatever world you live in,’ Aren thought, ‘some things never change.’

  After waiting far longer than he would have liked, their turn to pray to the mighty god finally arrived.

  Though Aren remained skeptical of their beliefs, he had to admit that what he saw was nothing short of art.

  At the heart of the temple, the King of All Dragons was depicted as a being of light and shadow, vast wings unfurled, while lesser dragons bowed before him.

  When they stepped outside, Mira asked softly, “Do you remember the gods?”

  “Definitely not,” Aren replied.

  Within the temple boundary were numerous small shops selling ingredients unique to different gods, though the main deity appeared to demand no offerings at all.

  ‘Such a nice god,’ Aren mused.

  People were not required to pray to every Dragon King. It was customary to first offer prayers to the main god, The King of all Dragon Kings, almost compulsory, before praying to the deity they personally believed in, all within the same sacred boundary.

  Mira purchased a strangely blue flower that glowed faintly in the light, something Aren had never seen on Earth, along with a small hundred-milliliter bottle of nectar.

  She bundled her hair and covered her head with her scarf before approaching a small stone pillar depicting a dragon devouring its own tail, the god she believed in.

  ‘I’ve seen something like this in my world too,’ Aren thought.

  She clapped her hands seven times. Aren followed suit. Then she began to pray.

  “O Dragon who devours its own tale,

  take these departed souls into your endless coil.

  Consume their endings, that they may be freed from regret and fear.

  As you burn memory into ash, shape it anew into becoming.

  Let death be only a turning of the circle, not a fall into darkness.

  Return them to the world when the cycle calls their name again.”

  She ended her prayer with three final claps.

  As she finished, tears slid down her cheeks. They sat on a nearby bench overlooking a garden-like courtyard, where statues of the Thirty-Six Dragon Kings were placed atop small pillars, arranged in a silent circle.

  “Oh, did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to,” Mira said softly.

  An awkward silence settled between them as Aren wondered whether he should say something.

  It was obvious she had lost her son. Bringing it up again would only deepen the wound.

  They were strangers who had met barely three days ago. He was grateful for what she had done for him, truly, but in the end, he was still just a stranger.

  ‘Damn it. I hate making choices.’

  Recalling the name he had on his identity card, he finally spoke.

  “I… I saw the photos. So, wh-what happened?”

  “You did?” She blinked, startled. “Well… I wasn't hiding them. It’s just that every time I look at those pictures—”

  She paused, the silence stretching as she gathered her courage before continuing.

  “It was two years ago. The day after the Dragon King Festival. He was such a sweet child. He always wanted to be a Sorcerer.” Her voice trembled. “But that day… that day… We found his body two days later, by the riverside. He fell from a bridge…”

  *****

  After some time, she recovered, at least on the surface. Even her gentle smile returned. She gave Aren a full tour of the temples, explaining the gods and the miracles attributed to them. But still empty still lingered in her heart.

  Aren didn’t take most of the gods seriously. His eyes were searching for something else, one particular dragon with scales like moonlight.

  The bastard who had kidnapped him that night.

  As the day dimmed further, he finally spotted it, a shade of white he could never forget.

  “That’s it. I knew I’d find it here.” He pointed at a particular statue, his voice rising with excitement.

  Perched atop the pillar was a pale dragon, its body shimmering like scattered starlight.

  “Heh, don’t point at the gods,” Mira said with mild panic, quickly grabbing his hand.

  “Eh?”

  Only then did Aren notice the small crowd that had gathered. Their gazes were fixed on him, disappointment clear in their eyes.

  ‘What do you want? You don’t even know me. Stop looking at me with those eyes.’

  His heart raced as he stumbled back, but Mira held him firmly.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  She guided him to sit on a bench and handed him some water, slowly bringing him back to himself.

  “Did you remember something just now?” she asked, curiosity softening her voice.

  “No… Well, I… Who was that Dragon King?”

  “Oh, her? She’s the Dragon King of Stars. She represents freedom and choice.” Mira glanced back at the statue. “She stands opposite to the Dragon King of Inevitability, where he governs unchanging fate, she governs the power to change fate by choices.”

  “The Dragon of Stars…” Aren hesitated. “Does she also have something to do with… travel?”

  “Oh, of course,” Mira said with a small smile. “She’s said to be the only Dragon King who can travel freely between heaven and earth.”