The boy woke. The soft hay beneath his body crackled as he shifted, the early morning sun catching his eye through a crack in the barn wall, stirring him from sleep.
He blinked against the light, squinting as he pushed himself upright.
'...Ahh... I'm so hungry,' he thought, rubbing his face.
With a deep breath and a rough swallow, he rose to his feet.
'I'd give anything for a writ to hunt—just once I'd like to bring back a bit of fresh meat and cook it up. Shame the lord's law forbids any man from hunting on his land...'
He sighed.
'Oh well.'
He left the barn, sunlight gleaming across his skin as he walked to the nearby wash basin. Cupping his hands in the cool water, he splashed his face repeatedly.
After several splashes, his reflection came into view.
A face with no expression. No ambition. No smile. No grief.
A face that had nothing.
'Hope business is good today... maybe the owner'll spare some high-quality leftovers.'
He swallowed hard, straightened his back, and set off toward the village. The land around him stretched wide — flat grassland and endless crops, with no trees or hills to shield him from the growing heat of the sun.
'I just hope it's not bread... It's been killing my stomach lately... Have I grown sensitive?'
Before long, he reached the local tavern in the village of Initium, and began his workday.
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My name is Michael Evenbrown. Three years ago, I lived with my father, a low-class working noble in the Royal Capital of Varolon.
"Henry! Get to the front! And while you're at it, bring the flour sacks with ya'!" a gruff voice called.
I committed an irredeemable crime. Something unforgivable to the very people I cared about.
Because of my weakness, I branded my best... my ONLY friends with a slave mark out of an irrational fear.
Afraid I'd lose them.
"Y-yeah! On my way!"
I was supposed to die for that. I deserved to. I hurt them in the most vile of ways.
And there was no one, nothing left for me to live for.
When my long-lost mother and sister found out... the disgust in their eyes said it all.
I was truly alone that day. I accepted dying.
"Hurry it up, THEN! There's a job I have for you!"
But... the Hero of this world, Van Hellix, took pity on me.
Instead of death, he exiled me.
And after nearly dying alone from my injuries due to an unfortunate encounter with a beast - I ended up here. The village of Initium.
A godforsaken place, far from the capital.
The man shouting at me now is the tavern owner — Mr. Chapskate. He lost his son not long before finding me half-dead on his doorstep.
For reasons of his own, perhaps seeing a shadow of his son in me, he took me in. Gave me a place as his tavern helper.
Minimum pay. A meal. A corner in the stables to sleep in.
And when he asked my name, I wanted one thing: to be anything but the piece of shit I was before.
"Henry."
That's what I told him 3 years ago.
Michael... no more.
"A job...?" Henry murmured, setting the flour sack down on the tavern's front table. He glanced over and saw the bald tavern's owner speaking with a man clad in minimal armor, a chainmail shirt covering most of his body.
'The lord's guard?' he wondered, approaching the pair.
"Yes," Chapskate said, scratching his head as he glanced toward Henry. "As you know, the whole village is suffering from hallucinations and sickness. No one knows what is causing it. You are going to find out. That is the job I am giving you."
Henry swallowed hard, eyes widening as he pointed at himself in confusion. "Me, sir? But... excuse my bluntness, haven't the lord already sent his magicians to investigate?" He turned to the guard.
The guard simply shook his head, giving Henry a look that was almost... pitying.
'...? What kind of response is—'
"You do not talk to him. You talk to ME!" Chapskate barked, snapping Henry's attention back.
"Y-yes, sir... sorry." Henry looked away, murmuring.
The tavern's owner held his gaze for a moment longer, exhaling through his nose in an annoyed grunt.
"This is a job I am giving you," the old man said. "The guard is here at my request as my witness. You'll be granted special privileges for the sake of this investigation."
'No... is he serious? I've never given him the impression I'm some kind of investigator...'
"I... sir, I... I don't believe I could solve something that even the lord's magicians couldn't—"
"THIS ISN'T up for debate, brat!" Chapskate snapped. "Do what you can. Report to this esteemed guard whatever you find. And if you can't find anything..." He turned sharply, stomping back into the tavern without another glance at Henry.
"... I'll have to let you go. You're a shit tavern hand anyway. I've only kept you this long out of pity. Saving your life already repaid my debt to the Goddess." The words were thrown over his shoulder as he disappeared into the back.
Henry was left standing alone with the guard at the entrance.
'Ah... I see what this is. It's not that he thinks highly of me... or even poorly. He's given me an impossible task—so he'll have an excuse to fire me when I'll undeniably fail.'
Henry sighed.
'If I'm not mistaken, a good friend of his wants his good-for-nothing son to work at the tavern. So he needs to let me go to make that happen.'
"Come on. Henry, right? Let us talk outside," the guard muttered sternly, drawing Henry's attention as he started toward the door.
"Ah... Alright."
'And also because...' Henry cast one last glance at the stairs leading to the second floor of the tavern — spotting a blonde-haired girl at the top, hiding, peeking down at him.
'...That friend of his wants that good-for-nothing son of his to marry the owner's daughter. Good for them, I suppose. Owner's been looking for a suitor for her, too. Someone who owns a business. I guess it works out nicely... As for his personality...'
'Well, he's no worse than I am, at the very least.'
They stepped out of the tavern.
'The owner did keep me here for three years when he didn't have to. I guess... I should be grateful for the time he gave me.'
'It's just a little shitty to lose the place I belong again...'
'No.'
A beat.
'I deserve this.' He clenched his fist tightly.
"Don't feel bad, lad." The guard's voice cut through his thoughts, accompanied by a firm tap on his shoulder.
Another pause. Henry looked down at the dirt under his feet, a faint frown on his face.
The guard let go and began walking away.
Henry watched him go.
'Yeah... that's how it should go.'
'There's no briefing. Because this guard knows it's a lost cause. If even the specialists couldn't figure out why the whole village is plagued by hallucinations, there's no reason I could... Well, they're not as trained as the mages in the capital, but still—they're a damn sight better than me. I'm just an average-at-best swordsman's disciple.'
I'd basically given up at that point. Back to starving. Exiled again. I deserved it, after all. What I've done... I can't really forgive myself for it. I should've died, but I didn't.
I'm a coward, too. I'll admit that. I say I deserve to be beheaded or mutilated, but I stayed here in Initium all this time to avoid exactly that fate.
'I deserve this...'
He clenched his fist again.
'And...' He looked up at the early noon sun, casting its light over the village of Initium. 'This village... it helped me avoid that fate a little bit.'
'So I'll... I'll just try. If I'm going down... I... I want to tell my father in the afterlife that I tried to make amends. At least that much.'
"W-... Wait!" Henry called.
The guard stopped and turned. "Hrm?"
"W..." Henry cleared his throat. "Where... where should I begin?"
"... Begin?" He asked with a tilt of his head.
"YES," Henry affirmed, "... Where should I begin... Investigating the cause of Initium's curse?"