Chapter 6: The Messenger and the Misjudged

It's been six months.

Half a year since I woke up as Anna in this foreign world that is slowly, stubbornly starting to feel like home.

If anyone had told me transmigration would be this exhausting, I would've written a thousand angry reviews. I mean—do protagonists in web novels usually go this long without some cheat power, a convenient memory dump, or a prophetic dream?

But no. Not me.

Instead, I've attended obscure cult rituals, joined demon-worship gatherings in disguise, sat with eccentric self-proclaimed witches and fortune tellers, listened to drunken wizards, and even fasted with religious ascetics in the mountains—all in the vain hope of finding a way home—in my own world. I could publish a book: Hanna Sue's Unofficial Guide to Supernatural Scams and Slightly Creepy Cults.

Still no answers. Still no memories of Anna. Just me, stumbling forward and clinging to whatever scraps of logic or hope I can find.

Thankfully, Sain—sweet, steadfast Sain—has remained by my side through it all. She never questioned my story about memory loss. She told me everything she remembered about Anna's past, her quirks, her struggles, her kindness. It feels dishonest, sometimes, using that amnesia excuse. But it's the only thread I have left to hang onto this life without unraveling completely.

So, I keep searching.

Lately, there have been whispers about a man—a spiritual traveler—who recently arrived in a village not far from here. They say he's wise beyond measure, possibly divine. His predictions have supposedly saved entire regions from plague and natural disaster. Others claim he performed miracles—calling rain in drought, turning day to night. Logical me says, "coincidence and folklore," but the desperate part of me, the part that misses city skylines and hot showers, says, "What if?"

So, I packed my diary, rolling up my sleeves, and headed off to catch a carriage to the next village.

Sain insisted on walking me to the station, arms full of a comically large bundle of food and medicine. To outsiders, we must've looked like a loving couple saying goodbye. To anyone who knew us? They were probably rolling their eyes and wondering how I endured her dramatics daily.

"Don't forget to eat. And if he turns out to be a cult leader, blink twice and run," Sain said as I boarded.

"I'll blink four times just to mess with him," I replied, waving.

The journey took two days, and by the time I stood in front of the traveler's tent, I was both nervous and skeptical.

There, a long line of people waited in solemn silence. When my turn finally came, I stepped forward, heart beating loudly. Inside the tent, the scent of incense and old parchment filled the air, and shadows danced on the tent walls

The old man sat cross-legged behind a low table, face half-hidden by a thick beard and silver-streaked moustache. His eyes were unreadable.

"There is no way for you to return," he said, voice deep and gravelly. "You must begin to accept that this is your new life. This place, your role here—it aligns with the prayers you once whispered in the dark. You wished to be needed. Now, you will become essential."

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

But before I could say more, his assistant tugged my sleeve. "Your time is up. Please make way."

Confused, I was shuffled out into the light. People still queued for hours outside. I could barely process what had just happened. What did he mean by my prayers? Had he really known them? Had he seen something?

I wandered aimlessly for a bit, trying to replay his words in my head. Then someone bumped into me—hard.

"Ouch!" I rubbed my shoulder and turned, but the person had already melted into the crowd. Glancing down, I noticed a strange emblem tangled in my cloak—a carved raven on a blue crest. It must have snagged when we collided.

I pocketed it, just in case, then ducked into an alley and jotted the man's words in my diary. Maybe there was a clue in his riddle. Maybe not. But I wasn't ready to dismiss it.

As I made my way toward the local carriage stop, I took a shortcut through a dilapidated alley. Wooden crates lay scattered, and the smell of rot clung to the air. That's when I heard a soft groan. I paused, looking around—then saw her.

A girl, barely more than a bundle of bones and rags, curled tightly inside one of the crates. Her skin was deathly pale, sweat trickling down her forehead.

"Miss? Are you in pain?" I knelt beside her, gently pressing my hand to her brow. Cold—too cold.

She flinched and shrank back, eyes wild with fear.

"It's okay. I'm a woman," I said quickly. "I won't hurt you. I just want to help."

She blinked at me, as if trying to gauge whether I meant it. Eventually, she loosened up, allowing me to wipe her sweat and help her sit. I offered her water, then a candy from Sain's stash. Her fingers trembled as she took it.

"Please let me help you, at least untuil you know what your currentcondition. I'll find us somewhere safe." I said gently.

She nodded weakly.

"Alright, excuse me for a while" I carried her to a nearby inn and asked the keeper for directions to a physician.

"There's one just past the forest's edge," he said, eyeing the girl with suspicion. "But he's... prickly."

Understatement of the year.

The old physician scowled the moment he saw us.

"I'm not helping a thief."

"What?"

"She worked for me. She stole expensive herbs—special orders for nobles. I won't waste another drop of medicine on her."

I inhaled sharply. "I get it. You're angry. Maybe she did something wrong. But right now she's sick and suffering. Can't you at least treat her first?"

"She fakes it. Makes people pity her, then steals what she can."

"Enough!" I snapped. "I'll pay you back somehow. Just see her. Please."

Grumbling, he approached the girl and began his examination. Despite his bitterness, his touch was precise, practiced. He mixed a potion quickly, helping her drink it.

Her breathing eased. The color returned to her cheeks.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

I leave her to rest comfortably, while I offered the physician a tea and listened to his story in the cafeteria.

"Her name is Riel. She's... nineteen, surprisingly. I found her in the woods, living like a ghost—moving from tree to tree, foraging herbs. She knew more plants than most of my apprentices. I offered her a job, a place to sleep. And for months, she was perfect. But then... things started disappearing. First small items, then rare herbs. I caught her red-handed once. The last time, she took a rare herb ordered by a powerful client. I had to pay a fine."

"I understand why you're upset," I said gently. "But what if she had a reason?"

"She wouldn't explain," he muttered. "Just cried and vanished."

"I'm sorry for earlier. I wasn't trying to judge you. I just... saw a girl who looked like she was dying."

He looked at me, eyes softer now. "I should've stayed professional. It's my duty to help, not accuse."

"I don't have money, but maybe I can help you with the contract? I have some experience with... bureaucratic nonsense."

His brows lifted. "Really Sir? You'd help me with that?"

"I'd like to try."

Then, impulsively, I added with a smirk, "Also—I'm a woman. Not a man with a beautiful face, as you may have thought."

The physician coughed, clearly mortified. "Ah... forgive me. You are... quite striking. I didn't mean..."

I waved him off, laughing. "It's fine. You're not the first."