He considered playing along, but ultimately decided against it. Not only because this guy would probably see right through him, but also because this was Myran's master and Perry had to admit to himself he was kind of fond of the kid.

"See, I think there's some kind of misunderstanding going around." Perry sighed, considering how to best explain... everything.

"There is no misunderstanding," the older man stated with absolute certainty. "While you are clearly not from this realm, your identity is undeniable."

"Undeniable isn't exactly the word I would use," Perry muttered. "Though my word of choice isn't appropriate for polite company." Perry gave him a thin smile.

Master Rennin's expression remained impassive, clearly unamused. 

Tough crowd. 

"How exactly do you know I'm not from around here?" Perry asked, trying to redirect the conversation. The man's unwavering stare made him want to fidget in place. 

Only then did Perry notice he was still clutching his makeshift weapon — the branch that had helped him survive the graveyard. Was bringing it into the temple some kind of disrespect?

Master Rennin was silent for what felt like an eternity before finally answering, "Your aura betrays your origins."

"My aura." Perry's tone was skeptical. "You're telling me you can actually see auras? What color is mine?"

The master rose from his chair in one fluid motion, and Perry automatically straightened his posture in response. 

"You will be permitted to stay here and recover while we determine a way to return you to your realm," Master Rennin declared.

The words took a moment to register. "You mean you can actually help me get home?" Perry asked, trying to tamp down on the hope that bubbled up inside of him as he clutched his makeshift weapon.

He was scared to hope too hard that this guy could really help him get back to Lucky Fries and his boring life. 

Master Rennin's only response was a slight nod. He made a subtle gesture with one hand, and out of nowhere, an older boy materialized right next to him. "He will guide you to appropriate accommodations where you may rest and refresh yourself."

Under normal circumstances, Perry's skeptical nature would have him asking a lot of questions and backing away as quickly as possible. But exhaustion made his entire body feel like it was made of lead. And his options were limited. 

After seeing — and, more surprisingly, fighting — zombies and having possibly the strangest conversation with an actual revenant, he found himself more and more inclined to believe in magic and mythical beings. If this master could really help him go back home, Perry was willing to trust him — kind of. At least for now.

The boy led Perry through a maze of corridors. The sound of trickling water followed them all the way through so many turns and twists that Perry quickly lost all sense of direction. Some hallways were wide and well-lit by high windows, while others were so narrow there were places where his shoulders nearly brushed both walls.

Finally, they stopped, and the boy gestured to a wooden door. 

"Thanks," Perry muttered. The boy inclined his head, and then left. 

Not for the first time, Perry considered running away. But even if he was in any condition to run, where would he go? He was, sadly, at the mercy of others. Just like he'd been back at the orphanage, and just like it seemed he'd always be. 

He opened the door to a tiny room that, in his amateur opinion, looked more like a cell than somewhere people actually rested and recharged their batteries after a long day of work. A water basin sat to one side with a clean cloth next to it, and a small but clean mat lay in the opposite corner. 

Despite his desperate need to clean away the dirt and grime of his misadventures, exhaustion won out. Perry all but collapsed onto the mat, face-first.

"Ouch," he mumbled as his body reminded him of everything he'd been through. His last coherent thought before sleep claimed him was a vague sense of hope that when he woke up, he'd either be back in his own world or at least have some answers that made sense.