Between Questions and Answers

Richard's POV

The next morning dawned clear and sharp, with golden light spilling over the thatched rooftops of the village. The air was cold but promising, carrying the scent of dew-soaked earth and the distant smoke of wood fires. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall as if it could offer answers. The feeling from the market lingered—a cold thread of unease woven into my thoughts. I couldn't shake it.

I had felt a demon. That presence wasn't some passing trick of my mind. It had weight, shape, and purpose—something I couldn't ignore. I needed to locate it, to understand it, to trace it back to its source. But how? My training was incomplete, my mana core still fragile compared to the strength of my old one. I was still too weak to confront such a presence directly. Still, fear wasn't an option. Knowledge would give me strength.

First, I considered the basics—tracking through mana signatures. Demons left traces when they moved, remnants of their presence lingering like faint footprints on the air itself. I closed my eyes, trying to recall the sensation from the market: the cold weight of that energy, the faint pull that had seized me. If I could focus, if I could meditate and follow that trace, I might have a starting point.

As i was deep in thought a sharp knock at the door suddenly broke through my musings. My mind snapped to attention, and before I could let myself spiral again, I called out, "The door isn't locked, you may enter." I wasn't particularly concerned about who it might be, though I had my suspicions.

Sure enough, a moment later, the door creaked open, and my mother stepped inside with her trademark bright smile—a smile that always seemed to light up the room, especially when she was near me.

Her voice was cheerful as she greeted me.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said warmly, stepping into my room with her usual energy.

I looked up, a small smile forming on my face as I met her gaze. "Morning, Mom," I replied, feeling the tension from my earlier thoughts begin to loosen.

She walked over and perched on the edge of my desk, smoothing out her dress. She looked at me with a glint of mischief in her eyes, the kind that always preceded one of her "brilliant ideas."

"So," she began, drawing out the word. "I was thinking… It's been ages since I visited Marta, you know, my old friend from the neighboring village?"

I tilted my head, pretending to think. "The one who used to send us honey cakes in winter?"

"Exactly!" she said, her smile widening. "Well, I thought today might be a lovely day to visit her. It's not far, the weather's perfect, and I know she'd be thrilled to see us again. Besides…" She paused, her tone becoming conspicuously casual. "Marta has a daughter about your age. You two might get along."

I blinked, caught off guard. "She has a what?"

"A daughter," my mother repeated with a knowing smile. "You didn't know? Oh, I suppose it's been a long time since we last visited. You were just a little thing back then."

I frowned, masking the sudden swirl of confusion in my chest. Of course, I didn't know Marta had a daughter. In my first life, I barely remembered Marta at all. Her honey cakes, maybe, but a daughter? That was new information.

My mother misread my expression and chuckled softly. "Don't look so shocked, darling. She's about your age." She winked, teasing me about how much I hated being called a child.

I leaned back on the bed, folding my arms. "Mom, I'm not sure this is the best time. I've got… things to figure out."

Her smile softened, and she gave me that look—the one that meant she wasn't going to let this go. "You've been in your own little world since yesterday, Richard. Ever since the... market, you've been quieter than usual. I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but sometimes a little change of scenery can help. Fresh air, friendly faces—it might do you good."

I hesitated, the memories of my past life mingling uncomfortably with the present. I was five years old again, but my mind carried 15 extra years of experiences and regrets. I couldn't afford to waste time on distractions.

And yet…

Sensing my reluctance, she leaned closer, her tone gentler now. "You don't have to come if you really don't want to. But I'd love for you to join me. Marta would be so happy to see you. And who knows? Maybe her daughter's nice. You might even make a friend."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. How could I say no to her when she looked at me like that? Besides, meeting new people wasn't the worst idea. Maybe Marta's village would offer more clues, more answers about the demon I sensed in the market.

"Fine," I said finally. "I'll go."

Her smile returned in full force, and she clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! You won't regret it, I promise. Now, get dressed. We'll leave in an hour!"

As she bustled out of the room, humming a cheerful tune, I sat there staring at the ceiling.

As I stared at the ceiling, the unease I'd been pushing down clawed its way back to the surface. Marta had a daughter? That was news to me. I ran my hands through my hair, muttering under my breath.

"That doesn't make sense," I said quietly.

"She didn't have a daughter before. Did she? No, she didn't. I'd remember something like that."

The thought nagged at me, sharp and insistent. Maybe I'd overlooked it in my first life, but it didn't feel right.

This felt… off.

My mind raced back to the market, to the chilling presence of the demon.

"First a demon shows up, now this," I muttered, pacing the room. "Is it all connected? Or am I losing my grip? No… I can't be imagining this. Marta having a daughter wasn't part of my past. It wasn't."

I stopped pacing, gripping the edge of my desk. The time travel. It had to be. My return was altering things, shifting them like ripples in a pond. Every action I took, every moment I relived—it was bending the world into something unfamiliar.

I let out a dry laugh. "Great. Just what I needed."

I glanced toward the door, where my mother's footsteps had faded. Her cheerful voice still lingered in my ears, her casual mention of Marta's daughter sparking questions I couldn't answer.

"Okay, Richard," I said, taking a deep breath.

"If this is because of me, then I need to figure out why. And if it's not…" My fingers tightened on the desk. "Then something much bigger is going on. Either way, standing around won't fix anything."

My mind wandered back to the demon at the market. Its presence had been no accident. I felt it in my core—a cold, deliberate energy, like it had been waiting for something.

Or someone.

"Was it waiting for me?" I wondered aloud.

"Or is it another ripple? Damn it, I need answers."

The thought of facing Marta's daughter felt insignificant compared to everything else, but I couldn't shake the sense that this, too, was important.

I exhaled sharply, pushing away from the desk. Dwelling on it wouldn't help. If Marta had a daughter now, I'd find out soon enough.

And if the demon's appearance was tied to these changes, then I couldn't ignore the possibility that I'd encounter it again—maybe sooner than I'd like.

For now, I had to keep moving. One step at a time.

"Fine," I said to myself, standing and straightening my clothes. "Let's see what this so-called daughter's like. And if she's a part of all this… then I'll deal with it when the time comes."

With that, I steeled myself, ready to face the unknown.

.....

The sun climbed higher as we walked along the dirt road, the edges of the village fading into the distance behind us. The fields ahead shimmered under the golden light, while the soft rustling of leaves whispered from the nearby trees. My mother strode beside me, humming a cheerful tune, her steps light and unhurried.

I kept pace, my small legs working harder to keep up with her long strides. Despite the pleasant scenery, my focus was elsewhere.

I pulsed my mana outward again, letting the energy ripple through the landscape around me like an invisible wave. It brushed against the air, the ground, the trees, and the faint mana signatures of the small creatures hiding in the brush. A sparrow's faint life signature flickered like a spark in the corner of my perception, while a fox further ahead left a warm trace of energy, low and steady.

But no demon. Nothing cold, heavy, or sharp—no sign of that unnatural presence I'd felt at the market.

"Still nothing," I muttered under my breath.

"What was that, sweetheart?" my mother asked, glancing at me with a curious smile.

"Uh… nothing," I said quickly, slipping back into the innocent demeanor I'd learned to maintain. "Just thinking."

"Oh, thinking, are you?" She chuckled lightly, the sound bright and full of warmth. "What's on your mind, Richard? You've been unusually quiet."

I hesitated, debating how to frame my next question. "What's… Marta's daughter like?"

My mother raised an eyebrow at me, a mischievous glint flickering in her eyes. "Why do you ask?" she said, her voice laced with teasing curiosity.

I shrugged, doing my best to look casual. "Just wondering. You said she's my age, right?"

"Yes, Emma is about your age," my mother said, her smile widening. "She's a bright girl, very clever and hardworking. She's been helping Marta on the farm since she could walk."

"Does she, um… like the farm?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation toward something more revealing.

My mother's smile turned into something softer, almost knowing, and she leaned slightly toward me as we walked. "Oh, she's a lovely girl. Very talented too. She loves to read and sing when she gets the chance. Why do you want to know so much about her, hmm?"

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift in her tone. "I… I'm just curious," I said quickly.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion but in amusement. "Curious, are you?" she said, her voice lifting with playfulness. "I've never seen you this interested in someone before. Could it be that my little Richard has already fallen for her, even before meeting her?"

"What? No!" I exclaimed, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "That's not it at all!"

She laughed, the sound rich and full of mirth, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction. "Oh, I'm just teasing, darling. But you have to admit, you're asking an awful lot of questions about her for someone who isn't interested."

I groaned, looking away to hide my frustration. "I'm just trying to get a sense of what she's like, that's all."

She gave me a knowing smile but didn't press further, letting the moment pass.

I took the opportunity to pulse my mana again, this time focusing more intently. The waves of energy rippled outward, brushing against the fields ahead and the forest to our right. The trees stood tall and steady, their mana signatures warm and constant, while the small creatures that darted through the undergrowth left faint trails in the air.

But then, just for an instant, I felt something.

It was faint, almost imperceptible—a cold flicker at the edge of my perception, like a shadow slipping through the cracks of reality. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving behind no trace.

I slowed my steps, narrowing my eyes as I tried to focus on the spot where I'd felt it.

"Richard?" my mother asked, noticing my hesitation. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I said quickly, forcing my expression to relax. "I thought I saw something, but it's nothing."

She gave me a curious look but didn't press the matter.

I clenched my fists at my sides, frustration bubbling under the surface. Whatever I'd sensed, it wasn't natural. Was it the demon's presence? Or something else entirely?

"Does Emma ever go into the forest?" I asked, my voice as casual as I could manage.

My mother raised an eyebrow at me again, a hint of that teasing smile returning. "Now why would you ask that?"

"I just… thought she might, since it's so close to their farm," I said quickly, trying to cover my tracks.

"Well, she does go exploring sometimes," my mother said thoughtfully. "She's a curious girl, always looking for new things to learn or discover. Marta says she has a wild streak, though she always comes back before dark. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," I muttered, my mind racing. If Emma had been spending time in the forest, could she have encountered the demon?

Could she be tied to its presence somehow?

I pulsed my mana again, this time focusing ahead toward the direction of Marta's farm. The faint, cold flicker I'd felt earlier was gone, but the unease in my chest remained.

As we approached the edge of Marta's village, my mother's cheerful voice filled the air again, breaking through my thoughts.

"You know," she said with a sly smile, "if you like her, you don't have to hide it. It's perfectly normal to be curious about a girl you might fancy."

I groaned. "Mom, it's not like that!"

Her laughter rang out, light and carefree, as we continued down the road. But my thoughts were elsewhere, focused on the mysteries ahead.

If Emma was tied to the changes I'd caused, or if the demon's presence was linked to her in some way, I would find out soon enough.

And if she wasn't, I still couldn't afford to let my guard down.