“Why did you bring me here?”

The air was filled with the gentle sound of waves crashing against the shore, harmonising with the breeze. The moon and stars all glistened against the reflection of the water, and sand clung to my bare feet as my shoes were placed behind me and next to another pair.

“I wanted to take you out of that old village for once,” the man beside me said, his dark hair flowing against the wind as his blue eyes reflected the image of the ocean in front of us. “I thought you might enjoy the view.”

“The view from your house is fine. It was a waste to come here.” I stated firmly, and yet my eyes couldn't help but trace the dance of the tides. Something about that scene was transfixing.

He leaned back against his hands that rested on the sand. “I figured you say that, but I thought we might have some fun at least. And besides, you should go out more and start seeing new things. You don't have to keep staying with me, you know."

“Are you trying to kick me out, Matthias?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

The corner of his mouth curved upwards as he chuckled. “No, of course not. But don’t you think you’ve been stuck with me for long enough already?”

My jaw clenched. I tightened my arms around my legs before pulling them closer to my chest. "No, I don't. Why should I leave when I still owe you my life?"

“That’s a bit of an overstatement, don’t you think?”

I didn’t think so. “You could’ve just left there to bleed out instead of bringing me into your home."

“You and I both know you would've recovered just fine even if I didn’t find you back then,” he retorted before letting out a heavy sigh. "Besides, you've been staying with me every day since. You are free to do whatever you like, and I'm not trying to force you to stay here."

I didn’t respond immediately. He’d already tried convincing me to leave the village before, but I refused every time. Was he just that eager to discard me?

“And what if I want to continue staying with you? Am I allowed to do that?”

He glanced at me from the corner of his eye with a conflicted look in them. He clenched his fingers around the sand beneath him as he turned away. "That's not my call. After all, you do have free will. I don't mind if you stay, but only if that’s what you really want.”

What I want?

I didn’t know what I wanted. Was I supposed to want something more than what I already had? Ever since I’d woken up in his home, I’d been wandering aimlessly by his side.

Yet even after all this time in this moment with him beside me, all I wanted was to stay by his side for as long as I could. I’d accept as much time as I could get to keep living in this peace.

“This ocean reminds me of something,” I said as my eyes wandered across the edges of the waves. It was a serene blue that shimmered under the moonlight with every hypnotic movement. I’d never seen something so enchanting.

“And what’s that?”

“Your eyes.”

—

“I didn’t think you’d know how to ride a horse.”

“I didn’t either,” I responded, my hands on the reigns while Matthias sat behind me as we rode back to the village. He was close, almost touching my back with his body. But he kept his hands close to himself, being cautious not to make any contact. Although, I could still feel his breath against my neck each time he spoke.

He hummed softly in response, still gazing towards the ocean as we rode along the coast. “It’s strange though, how you barely remember anything but you still instinctively know how to do things like this.”

Matthias rarely ever mentioned anything about my past. Neither of us did. The memories I had before he came into my life were fragments—flickers of a nightmare better forgotten. But the truth always loomed over me.

“Do you ever wonder about the person I was before you found me?” I asked, my face expressionless as I kept my voice steady.

“I do sometimes,” he admitted as I felt his eyes staring into the back of my head. “But it doesn’t matter to me if I know or not. What matters is who you are now.”

Damn it. He was always too overly trusting about my character, almost foolishly so, even despite us both knowing nothing about who I was before. It was a kind of trust I didn't deserve.

“You know, your eyes remind me something too,” he said as his gaze drifted towards the dark sky above us. The sound of the horses’ hooves clopping against the ground and the rush of the tides echoed a solemn melody through the air. “The stars.”

—

"So why is the duckling being harassed for his appearance?"

"It's less harassment and more like schoolyard bullying."

“Alright, then why is the duckling bullied for his appearance?”

“That’s not the point, Irene,” Alfred said with an exasperated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“But it’s unreasonable for the yellow ducklings to ridicule the grey one just because of the colour of his feathers.”

He let out a loud groan as his frustration grew. "Stop trying to analyse the book, and just keep reading!"

Alfred was currently trying to teach me how to read as we both sat behind the front counter of the funeral home. After we went through the alphabet and some basic words, he decided we could finally move on to the next stage. And this 'next stage' turned out to be some old books he'd brought over which he thought would assist with my learning.

From what I could tell, these were supposed to be children's books. Even despite my lack of literacy, I could still tell the language here was overly simple. The words were also often accompanied by rather peculiar illustrations.

I wasn’t quite sure what the use or purpose of these drawn animals served to the narrative. I especially found the content of these stories to be quite... strange, to put it simply. Never had I heard of sentient ducks who could express their apparent prejudices through human language. To be honest, it was rather off-putting.

“The ugly duck hung his head low as he…” I continued, holding back my questions as I kept reading the page. While I still had difficulty deciphering some words, with Alfred’s help, I could manage to read most of these sentences.

But even as I read, my mind couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of that dream I had last night. It had been some days since the last one. I almost thought they wouldn’t return, but of course, I wasn’t that lucky.

After my experience with Anthony Wright’s memories, I could no longer reasonably dismiss them as just dreams, especially with a certain recurring character in them:

Matthias...

I finally had a name to call him by. But even then, I still hardly understood the nature of those dreams. It was all the more confusing why they all seemed to be centred around the same damn man. Surely if they were memories, my past wasn’t so fixated on just one person.

That wasn’t even mentioning the outlandish content of those 'dreams'; everything from the things said to what we did was ridiculous. From what I understood, riding horses was outdated, and the thoughts my body had in those dreams certainly didn’t belong to me.

I already concluded those visions likely weren't from my past. The age of that body was young but too old to be from my childhood before the war. Although, it didn’t make sense for me to be dreaming about someone else’s memories.

Davis and I already confirmed I had to be touching a corpse to see any sort of memories, and I was fairly certain I wasn’t in contact with any deceased bodies while sleeping.

It was infuriating how little it all made sense.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Alfred snapped, breaking me out of my mental ranting. His arms were crossed as he raised an eyebrow at me. I hadn’t even realised I’d grown silent after reaching the end of the page.

“I apologise, I won’t get distracted again,” I said before quickly turning to the next page. I almost sighed out of annoyance as I saw another illustration of those ducks.

“It’s fine, but try to stay focused.”

“I’ll do my best.”

I opened my mouth, about to continue reading aloud when Davis’ voice suddenly boomed from down the corridor.

“Alfred!”

“Coming!” he yelled back before sighing loudly and slumping back in his chair. “Great, looks like the boss needs me. Just keep reading until I come back.”

I nodded as I watched him stand and walk into the corridor. It was a wonder why Alfred even agreed to teach me literacy in the first place, especially considering his initial reluctance to be my mentor. But since I’d become a permanent staff member, he’d continue supervising me closely. I couldn’t understand what caused his sudden shift in attitude.

But, I brushed off those thoughts and turned back to the book. I began to read the words quietly under my breath since Alfred had been insistent that I read everything out loud.

“The ugly duckling flew over a farmhouse when—”

The front door abruptly swung open, making me pause my reading. I looked up to see a young woman walking in. She had the brightest hair I'd ever seen, almost appearing like fire which reminded me of Francesca's red hair. But this woman instead wore her orange locks in braided pigtails. It made her appear young and almost childish.

In her hands, she held a large bouquet formed from various species of flowers that all shared the same white hue. While the features on her face all shared soft edges, as her round eyes scanned the room and landed on me, those features contorted into a harsh scowl. She looked me up and down with a scrutinising gaze mixed between confusion and suspicion.

“Who are you?”