Inside the depths of his consciousness, Ren floated amidst a void—an endless, cold expanse of silence. There was no direction, no sound. Only one thing remained constant in this strange dream: a single star, shining so brightly it nearly blinded him, hung above like the unblinking eye of a god. The light wasn’t just bright—it felt alive... as if calling his name from far away. And, as always, just as that light engulfed him, awareness began to stir once more.
Ren blinked slowly, heavily. An unfamiliar ceiling greeted his gaze—crafted from pale golden wood, carved with patterns of leaves and wind tendrils, dancing in elegant, elven artistry. The air was laced with the soft scent of dried flowers and gentle herbs. This wasn’t a military infirmary... it was far too refined, too quiet. This place... felt like the private quarters of a noble.
"Where... am I...?" he murmured, voice raspy and cracked like someone waking from a deep, forgotten slumber.
When he tried to lift his body, pain stabbed through every joint, every muscle, every bone. Agony like smoldering coals crawled beneath his skin, down to his marrow. A low groan escaped his lips, his teeth clenched as he endured the slow, punishing throb. Still, he forced himself to sit up, hands trembling as they struggled to support his weakened frame.
At that moment, the door creaked open—softly, almost imperceptibly. An elven maid stepped in, carrying a silver tray with a bowl of warm water and a folded towel. Her gaze was focused on her task—until she saw who was sitting up in bed.
The tray fell instantly, warm water spilling onto the emerald velvet carpet, and the bowl rolled across the floor, catching the sunlight from the tall window behind her. Her eyes widened, her face pale with shock.
"A-Ah! You... you’re awake?!"
Her panicked voice shattered the stillness of the room like thunder echoing from the tallest tower in the dead of night. Her fingers shook as she scrambled to pick up the silver bowl, her eyes never leaving the young man now sitting upright, alive, and conscious.
Ren stared back, eyes still heavy with a mixture of shock and exhaustion. A rough, awkward laugh escaped his throat, hoarse and dry.
"Haha... this is... kinda embarrassing," he said, trying to ease the tension in the air, though his body still felt like it had been forged in molten steel.
The maid, after wiping away the spilled water, slowly approached him, hesitant. Her delicate fingers reached for his wrist, checking the pulse now beating steadily, if weakly. Her brows knit together, disbelief in her eyes.
"H-How can you be awake...? Even sitting up ?" she whispered, her voice tight with emotion. "Your injuries were... severe. Your sternum—almost completely shattered."
Ren merely shrugged weakly, attempting a smile despite the waves of pain that radiated through each motion. "Even if you ask me... I don’t really know," he replied honestly.
Her face tensed for a moment, and then—suddenly—she bowed her head, her lips trembling.
"Then... does that mean... it was all for nothing?"
Ren frowned. "For nothing?"
With a trembling voice, she explained. "Today, the Queen was going to grant you... the World Tree’s Sacred Drop. A national treasure that hasn’t been used in three centuries. We thought... you wouldn’t make it."
Ren fell silent. His chest felt heavy—not from his wounds, but from the weight of the truth he had just heard.
"The World Tree..." he muttered. "Isn’t that..."
"Its waters only drop once every hundred years," the maid said softly, almost like a prayer. "And we... we were ready to give it to you today—by Princess Elaria’s direct request."
Ren swallowed hard, stunned. He looked down, uncertain whether he should feel grateful... or guilty.
The maid gently clasped his hand, still trembling. "But... you healed before it could be used. It’s as if your body... healed itself."
Ren didn’t respond. His eyes drifted to the ornate, pale gold ceiling—so foreign, so luxurious. But what stirred in his mind wasn’t the beauty of the chamber—it was the question slithering at the bottom of his heart like mist: What’s changed inside me...?
Then, as if snapped back to reality, Ren slowly turned to the maid still faithfully by his side. His voice, though hoarse, was steadier than before.
"Sorry... how long have I been out?"
She replied gently, though awe still laced her tone. "It’s the third day since you were brought to the palace..."
Ren nodded slowly, calculating the time in his head. "It’s been a while, huh..." But suddenly, his expression shifted into alarm. He half-rose from the bed, startling the maid beside him.
"Ah! My gear! Where is it?"
The maid blinked in confusion for a moment, then nodded slightly, trying to recall. "Ah... You mean... that strange object that looks like a carriage without wheels?"
"Yes, that. My car. I... left it in vehicle mode," Ren muttered, palm to his forehead.
The maid bowed slightly with a nervous laugh. "That thing... caused quite a stir, to be honest. Some of the guards thought it was an ancient artifact that might explode. But in the end—with great effort—we managed to move it to the back courtyard of the palace."
Ren exhaled in relief, leaning back into the soft pillows. "Thank goodness... If anything happened to that car, I might’ve cried."
The maid offered a hesitant smile, not fully understanding the significance of this ’car,’ but clearly sensing how much it meant to him.
A gentle knock echoed at the door, followed by a soft voice from the guards. "Her Highness Princess Elaria seeks permission to enter..."
The maid quickly stood and bowed respectfully. The door opened slowly, revealing the figure of a silver-haired woman bathed in soft daylight spilling from the carved windows. Her flowing white dress was woven with fine threads embroidered in the style of the World Tree’s roots, and in her hands was a small box made of sacred wood.
Elaria froze in the doorway when she saw Ren sitting up. Her eyes widened, surprise written clearly across her face.
"You... you’re awake...?"
Ren turned to her with a small smile, his eyes still weary but warm. "Seems like it. Though my body feels like it got hit by a meteor."
Elaria lowered her gaze, a faint red blooming across her usually composed features. She stepped inside slowly, as if afraid to disturb the air around them.
"I... didn’t think you’d recover this soon... The healers said—you were nearly beyond saving..."
Ren tilted his head slightly, giving a lopsided grin. "Guess I should thank you all for not letting me die."
Elaria bowed her head deeper. Her fingers tightened around the box she carried. She lifted it gently and placed it on the side table.
"This... is for you. Herbal water from the healing chamber. It’s not from the World Tree... but it should still help you recover."
Ren watched her closely, noticing the awkward tension in her every movement.
"Are you... uncomfortable because I’m human?"
Elaria’s eyes shot up, slightly wide. Then, flustered, she quickly shook her head. "N-no... that’s not it..."
"Yeah, I know... It must be hard, being taken hostage in a war ." Ren’s voice was soft, with no trace of accusation—but heavy enough to make the air falter. Elaria lowered her gaze again, her eyes reflecting a pain that hadn’t yet healed.
She didn’t speak, gripped in silent memories of her trauma. Her shoulders trembled slightly, but she stood straight, refusing to show weakness in front of the one who had saved her.
"Anyway, thanks. It’s good," Ren said, placing the cup gently on the side table. His face looked a bit more relaxed after sipping the warm herbal drink with its light, refreshing aroma.
(Tastes like Pocari Sweat back on Earth. Too bad it’s not cold...) he thought, holding back a grin as he wiped the sweat from his temple. Even in another world, some flavors had the power to reach across dimensions and stir up nostalgia.
"So, can someone catch me up on what I missed over the last three days?" Ren’s gaze turned more serious now, leaning back against the soft cushions, doing his best to hide how drained he still felt. The question came lightly—but behind it was a sharp awareness and hunger for information he couldn’t ignore.