The streets I once called home felt distant.
The houses, the winding alleys, the scent of fresh bread from the baker's stall—it was all familiar, yet foreign. A place that should have been mine but wasn't anymore.
I walked past people who had once been neighbors, who had seen me playing in the streets with Liese. Yet, they barely spared me a glance. Their gazes slid over me, indifferent. It wasn't surprising. To them, I had vanished nine months ago. A forgotten ghost of the past.
But none of that mattered.
The only one who mattered was waiting for me in that house.
The house where I had played with her, cried with her, laughed with her. Memories flooded my mind, overwhelming and unshakable. I didn't want to lose them, even though they weren't mine. No, perhaps because they weren't mine. They felt more precious than my previous life, as if I had been given something I couldn't afford to lose again.
Would she cry when she saw me?
I was sure she would.
More so if she knew I wasn't dead.
I reached the door. There was no point in knocking—Liese had broken it once, and it had never been properly fixed. It was mostly for show.
She used to get scared at night, so she would sleep close to me.
I stepped inside.
"Liese, I'm ba—"
Silence.
The air was still. The room was empty.
She wasn't here.
I took a slow breath. No need to panic. If she wasn't here, she would be with Rosa. That old woman had always doted on us, and I could already picture them having breakfast together.
I turned and walked to Rosa's house.
It was empty.
The breath I had been holding slowly leaked out.
I knocked on the door, then pushed it open. No one inside. The faint scent of herbs still lingered, but there were no signs of life.
My body moved before my mind could process it.
I ran.
I grabbed the first person I saw, a stranger I didn't recognize. "Rosa. The old woman. Where is she?"
A blank stare. "Who?"
I let them go. My hands were already shaking, but I ignored it.
I asked another person.
"Liese. The little girl who lived here. Where is she?"
Another blank stare. Another meaningless answer.
Why?
Why didn't anyone know?
It hit me like a slow, creeping sickness.
Liese should have been taken by the baron instead of me. If she wasn't here, then where—
A desperate thought struck me. The scholar. He was always watching, always listening. He would know.
I ran.
I searched.
He wasn't here either.
I had scoured the entire town, but I had nothing. No leads. No answers. No traces of the people who should have been waiting for me.
I stumbled back to Rosa's house.
Sat down on the doorstep.
It was strange—this place felt more like home than anywhere else. I had always found the old woman annoying, but she had been the only one who truly cared.
I waited.
Days passed.
Weeks.
Months.
Today would have been my birthday again.
But this time, I was alone.
I woke up again.
Another useless day.
The ceiling above me was the same. The wooden beams, the cracks, the dust gathering in the corners—unchanged. The world moved forward, and yet, I remained stuck.
A thought stirred in my mind.
The Clarion of Touch.
I placed my fingers on the floor. Closed my eyes. Focused.
The wooden planks were solid beneath my fingertips, cool against my skin. I reached out, waiting for the faintest whisper of the past to emerge. But—
Nothing.
No traces of movement. No lingering echoes of footsteps, no signs of life.
Only mine.
I was months too late.
Too weak to push beyond a few weeks.
For the first time, I hated myself for being this powerless. The Clarion of Touch, an ability that could let me sense the past—even if only a little—and I couldn't even use it properly.
I clenched my fists.
What am I doing?
No, seriously, what am I doing?
I took a deep breath. I needed to think. I know what's going to happen. I've read the visual novel. I should have an advantage, shouldn't I? But—
Nothing.
I knew everything, yet I didn't know where to start.
How awful is that, huh?
I exhaled. First, I needed a way to earn money. A good way.
Bounty hunting.
It was reliable, but it would take time to establish a base of operations. Unless—
I joined a syndicate.
I immediately dismissed the thought. No one would accept a child.
...
Wait.
I am a child.
Arcane Pact.
A minor syndicate, one that took in children and raised them as assassins. They were barely a footnote in the visual novel, wiped out quickly to showcase the overwhelming power of the protagonist's allies. A total of four named characters had come from them, but that was enough.
If I could find them, I could reach them.
And then—
I would have my start.
I packed my things.
A map was too expensive—I'd have to ask for directions.
As I stepped out of the house, I paused. Turned back. Looked at it one last time.
The worn-out door. The crooked window. The faint scent of old wood and lingering memories.
For a second—just a second—I heard them.
Rosa's gentle laughter, Liese's excited chatter. The warmth of a life that no longer existed.
But it was only a moment. A fragment of the past.
I had moved on.
I would definitely do something worthwhile.