"My head, the back of it feels painful," I said, "But it's not a type of pain that I am used to. I feel odd, like something is terribly wrong, but obviously everything is wrong. Everything except for my name. That is the only thing that is the same as I remember."

"Can you show me where it hurts?" Dr. Lang said. I put my hand against it, brushing against some kind of fabric that was wet and sticky. I moved my hand back to see that it was covered in blood. Great, I hope it wasn't a mortal wound, because I'm obviously a mortal here.

"I'm wounded," I said, "The blood isn't dry. I hope it isn't a mortal wound. I also hope that your healer knows how to fix me up properly. I don't know why he would run out like that, aside from stomach troubles."

"Patrick was just worried about you," Dr. Lang said, "He's good at his job and told me that I had to come quickly."

"What for?" I asked, "I am completely fine. I've lived with worse wounds. That was when I was immortal, so it might not count, but I believe that your healer might be suitable to heal me."

"Arthur, can you tell me what you know about your family?" Dr. Lang asked.

"I don't know my family," I said, "I never met them. I was sent to the training grounds when I was a month old. My foster father, Igor Ramshead, was my master who taught me to fight. I had a wife and children, but they were killed. I met my wife through the church, as they said it was time to wed, but I was 24 and she was 20. I didn't meet her until the wedding, and we had children only when the church begged us to, but our children were..." I sighed. The thoughts of the death of Isaac, Isaiah, Marcy, and their mother, my wife, the Saintess Angelique, flooded my mind. I never saw their deaths, but I saw the aftermath and the writing the evil God wrote in their blood:

"May the shadow of their could have been lives haunt you for the rest of your life, Hero. We will come after you again and everyone that was ever close to you.

With hate,

The God Permythitonious"

I snapped back to the room I awoke in.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Dr. Lang asked.

"I'm fine," I said, "Do not worry about me, I am just old and stubborn."

"I have another question, Arthur," Dr. Lang said, "The women who were here with you before, do you recognize them?"

"Not at all, Lang," I said, "But they recognize me and know my name, so it's a possibility that they are the family of the child whose body I now possess. It does sound strange, does it not? I never expected to die, let alone be reborn in the body of a teenaged boy. The body is fine, but it is strange to not feel the pain of old wounds and to be in a place so much different than my world. What is this place even, Lang? And what is a nurse or a doctor? Are they really other words for healers?"

"Do you remember anything from Earth?" Dr. Lang asked.

"Earth?" I asked, "That's a strange name for a city."

"It's the name of the planet," Dr. Lang said, "That means that the answer is no. I understand." Earth is a planet? Like my planet of Denuir, that makes everything makes sense. This is a completely different world than the one I know.

"Do you have more patients like me, Lang?" I asked.

"So, you know the word patient, but not doctor, nurse, or Earth?" Dr. Lang asked, "I see."

"You aren't answering me," I said.

"Arthur, I think I know enough to diagnose you," Dr. Lang said, "I have to go, but a nurse will be with you shortly. The only thing I have to say left is that you should make sure to take the medication that I prescribe."

"You didn't answer my questions," I said. Dr. Lang left, and now I was alone with my thoughts, or so I thought. A curtain on the other side of the room that I didn't notice before fluttered, a teenaged girl looked over at me for a brief second, her auburn hair and green eyes were captivating. She said something just barely audible to me and I heard someone giggle. I wanted to go over there, but there were bars on the bed that I didn't know if they moved or not. I pushed the bar on my right forward, but they didn't budge, so I moved them backwards instead and it worked. I moved over and got off the bed with ease. I started to walk over to the curtain the girl hid behind, but something was pulling at my hand. I looked at it to see a patch and a vine attached to it. I looked to see where the vine went, only to see a bag hung on a metal tree with wheels. I grabbed the tree and walked over to the curtain. There was a boy with the girl, he seemed younger and had his leg wrapped up in something.

"What are you doing?" The boy asked, "The curtain being closed means that we want privacy."

"I apologize," I said, "I was just curious. My name is Arthur Brown. May I ask for your names?"

"I'm Roxanne Harrison and this is my cousin, James Harrison," the girl said, "You said your name was Arthur Brown, right?"

"Yes, in the flesh," I said, "But I was just wondering if the both of you were laughing at me."

"I would never," Roxanne said, "I just told James a joke and he laughed because it was funny."

"What was the joke?" I asked.

"It was a pun," James said.

"What pun?" I asked.

"Becoming a vegetable is a big missed steak," Roxanne said. I chuckled and James laughed again.

"What injury do you have, Harrison?" I asked, they both looked at me like I was crazy. "I meant James Harrison."

"I broke my leg from falling from my tree house," James said.

"What happened to you?" Roxanne asked, "You have bandages on your head."

"I apparently fell down a flight or so of stairs," I said.

"Why did you say apparently?" Roxanne asked.

"Because I do not remember it," I said, "I do not remember much about myself if I am honest with you.  Also, where is James Harrison's guardian? A child of his age should have his guardian with him or at least nearby."

"His parents are working," Roxanne said, "It's a Saturday, but his Dad, my Uncle,  is a doctor and his Mom, my Aunt, is a chef at a restaurant. You might've heard... Oh, wait... Nevermind."

"Heard what?" I asked.

"I was going to name the restaurant for you," Roxanne said, "But I don't think you'd remember it if you don't remember who you are."

"You can tell me for future reference," I said, "Nourishment is necessary for survival and to make those who eat it big and strong."

"It's called 'The Flavor of Italy'," Roxanne said, "As James's mother is Italian, she was born over there."

"Italy?" I asked.

"It's in Europe," James said.

"Nevermind," Roxanne said, "Let's just drop it. Lunch is going to arrive soon for the both of you and I promised my Mom that I'd be home by 1:30 pm, but I don't think I'll be home in time if we keep talking. It was nice to meet you, Arthur. And James, you better behave yourself. You know how much your Dad hates it when you misbehave in the hospital, right?"

"It was nice to meet you too, Roxanne," I said.

"I promise, Roxy," James said, "Just don't forget to tell Aunt Susan that I enjoy her letting you come see me. I'll be out of here soon, but it was nice to have you visit me."

"I will," Roxanne said. She walked over to me and pushed me backwards so she could close the curtains behind her and keep me away from her cousin.

"May I ask what you are doing this for?" I asked, slightly uncomfortable with her pushing me back like that, but more uncomfortable with her touching me. She was attractive, even more so than my wife, Angelique, but I wasn't used to touching girls or them touching me. I kept stepping backwards, but her hand remained on my chest.

"I want to talk to you," Roxanne said.

"What for?" I asked, as I started to hear my heart beat loudly. I hoped she would see how uncomfortable I was with her touching me. I kept stepping backwards, until the back of my legs hit my bed and I was forced to sit on the base of the bed. Which was when she took her hand off my chest.

"You have memories of a different world, don't you?" Roxanne asked. I nodded. "Maybe, Faithilla gave you this body for a reason. You are the Hero of Denuir, Arthur Brown, right?" I stared at her, my mouth agape.

"Who were you then?" I asked.

"I don't know yet," Roxanne said, "But I'll tell you when I find out." She then left the room and I stared at the doorway in silence.