Toscarter's streets were quieter in the morning, but the city never truly slept. Even at dawn, the murmurs of life seeped through the thin walls of Yeaia's rented room—carriages rolling over cobbled roads, distant voices carrying fragments of conversation, the faint clatter of shopkeepers setting up their stalls.
Yeaia lay awake, staring at the ceiling, their mind clouded by the events of the previous day. The bookstore, the strange familiarity of the words, the shopkeeper's cryptic remarks...
"Half-written. Forgotten."
A shiver ran through them. That phrase had lingered in their thoughts all night, yet no matter how hard they tried to grasp its meaning, it slipped away like a dream upon waking.
Why did it feel so personal?
'If I didn't feel so uneasy about all this, I'd just stay in bed all day...'
Yeaia dazed around for—almost 10 minutes—before they finally had the motivation to get up.
Sitting up, they exhaled and rubbed their temples.
They had no memories—only scattered fragments. No past, only the present. But that book... that handwriting…
It had felt like a clue.
And yet, standing in front of it, they had felt something else too. A hesitation. A deep, unshakable instinct that they weren't supposed to touch it.
Why?
'I keep asking why, as if it will be answered so easily...'
There were no answers in this room, only questions that refused to resolve themselves. The only thing left to do was follow the vague, uncertain thread of intuition pulling them forward.
Yeaia dressed quickly, fastening their coat as they stepped out into the morning air.
Somewhere in this city, there had to be something—or someone—who remembered.
And they were going to find it.
---
The morning fog still clung to the streets as Yeaia walked, weaving through the city's winding paths. Toscarter was a place of layers—stone and brick stacked over forgotten history, alleyways leading to places that shouldn't exist but somehow did.
The scent of freshly baked bread mixed with the dampness of old stone, and voices—some cheerful, others hushed—drifted past.
But beneath it all, there was something else.
A feeling.
It had started as a faint discomfort, but as Yeaia walked, it grew stronger. A persistent sense that someone was watching.
'Again?'
Yet, every time they glanced over their shoulder, they found nothing but crowds moving as they always did.
Still, the unease didn't fade.
Their fingers twitched slightly. If there was something following them, was it a person? Or something else?
They slowed their pace, eyes scanning the street ahead—until they noticed a small market tucked between two buildings.
It hadn't been there yesterday.
Or had it?
'Maybe I just didn't notice it?'
Yeaia frowned. The feeling of unreality pressed in at the edges of their mind, but they ignored it and stepped closer.
---
The market was a collection of makeshift stalls, their owners haggling with passersby. Trinkets, books, worn jewelry—items that had been passed through countless hands, carrying the weight of old stories.
One stall in particular caught Yeaia's attention.
It was small, half-hidden between larger displays, yet the moment they saw it, they knew they were meant to be there.
The table was cluttered with objects—tarnished coins, carved figurines, faded charms. But among them, one thing stood out.
A small pendulum crystal.
Its surface seemed to shift subtly in the light, its deep hues shifting between smoky gray and pale blue. The chain was old silver, slightly tarnished, yet it gleamed as if untouched by time.
Yeaia reached out without thinking.
The moment their fingers brushed the crystal, a deep cold seeped into their skin.
Not the crisp chill of morning air.
Something older. Deeper.
For a fraction of a second, they felt as if they were somewhere else entirely.
A vast, quiet place.
A weightless sensation, like standing at the edge of a dream.
Then it was gone.
'What...was that?'
They blinked, heart hammering in their chest.
"That one, huh?"
Yeaia looked up. The shopkeeper—a wiry, middle-aged man with an absentminded expression—was watching them with mild curiosity.
"No one's ever been interested in that before."
"...What is it?"
The man scratched his head. "Dunno. It's been here forever, I think. Funny, though… I don't even remember where I got it."
Yeaia frowned. That same unreal feeling pressed in again, like something shifting just beyond their reach.
"How much?" they asked.
The shopkeeper shrugged. "For you? Just take it."
Yeaia hesitated. Taking something so… unnatural for free felt wrong. But the pull in their chest—the same inexplicable force that had led them here—was stronger.
"Getting it for free makes me even more uneasy, old man..." Yeaia muttered dryly.
With a sigh, they set down nine pence on the counter. The shopkeeper took the coins without a glance, barely acknowledging the exchange.
"Guess it was waitin' for you, then."
Yeaia didn't respond.
Because, somehow, they knew he was right.
---
After purchasing the pendulum, Yeaia resumed exploring the market.
They browsed the other stalls but felt no urge to buy anything else.
'That makes buying the pendulum even weirder… What was that feeling, anyway?'
Yeaia glanced down at the object in their hands.
The cold sensation lingered. The pendulum itself was unassuming—simple in design—but the feeling it gave off was anything but.
'I'll think about this later when I'm back in my rented room.'
With a small shrug, Yeaia tucked the pendulum into the inner pocket of their coat. Just in case it got lost…
Satisfied, they left the market behind, shifting their focus to something more immediate—finding a good place to eat.
Toscarter offered a variety of dining options, from cozy cafés and small diners to lively pubs and upscale restaurants.
Yeaia wanted to try as many local delicacies as possible, but the money his companions had given him wouldn't last long.
After much deliberation, he settled on a cozy café—the design was inviting, and a delicious aroma, likely from freshly baked pastries, drifted from inside.
Excited, he stepped toward the café and pushed open the door.
The moment he entered, a wave of rich scents overwhelmed his senses—sweet pastries, something savory, and… was that spicy? Hmm. The coffee here smelled incredible too.
After scanning the menu, Yeaia ordered the café's specialty coffee, a small savory pastry called desi pie, and a cream soufflé—altogether costing 1 soli and 6 pence.
"Is that cheap or expensive? Maybe I should've asked Gehrman and the others how the currency works here..." Yeaia muttered.
Shaking his head, he chose a seat in the corner by the window.
While waiting for his order, he gazed outside, lost in thought.
'To be honest, I don't really need to eat. Back in the Sea of Ruins, I never felt hungry at all… My body doesn't seem to require food.'
Even so, Yeaia wanted to experience the simple joy of eating. That was the main reason—but really, he just wanted to indulge in the local delicacies.
"Hehe, all the food here looks amazing. There's no way I'm passing this up."
His mind drifted to the feast awaiting him, and he nearly started drooling. Fortunately, his food arrived just in time.
As the waiter set down the tray, a rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the buttery scent of pastries.
Yeaia picked up the desi pie first, feeling the warm, flaky crust crumble slightly under their fingers. As they took a bite, the crisp layers gave way to a rich, well-seasoned filling, bursting with spices that left a comforting warmth on their tongue. The contrast of textures—crispy on the outside, soft and flavorful inside—made each bite incredibly satisfying.
'It's melting in my mouth… Eating here was the right decision… Hehehehe.'
Before they even realized it, the pie was gone. Yeaia blinked at the empty plate, feeling a deep longing for just one more.
Resisting the urge to order another, they turned their attention to the next delicacy.
The cream soufflé.
A light tap of the spoon cracked the delicate, golden-brown surface, revealing an airy, cloud-like interior. As Yeaia took a spoonful, the soufflé practically dissolved on their tongue, its smooth, creamy sweetness laced with a delicate hint of vanilla.
'Smooth… It's so smooth… Whoever woke me up, thank you.'
For a brief moment, they felt an absurd urge to cry, overwhelmed by the sheer perfection of the dessert.
Finally, they reached for the coffee. Its deep, rich aroma curled into their senses, promising a bold, comforting warmth. The first sip was smooth yet strong, a perfect balance of bitterness and depth that complemented the lingering sweetness of the soufflé.
'Haaa… My stomach is full, and I feel so satisfied. I'm so happy… Hehehe.'
Sinking into their chair, Yeaia let themselves forget everything—just for this moment—fully indulging in the pure, uncomplicated joy of a good meal.
---
Night settled over Toscarter, casting a quiet stillness over some streets while others buzzed with the energy of nightlife.
In the dim glow of the candlelight, Yeaia sat in their rented room, absentmindedly turning the pendulum over in their palm. The cold sensation lingered, no matter how long they held it.
Setting it down on the desk, they watched as it swayed ever so slightly—despite the stillness of the room.
A strange thought surfaced.
'If I asked it a question… would it answer?'
The impulse to test it flickered in their mind, but before they could act, exhaustion crept in, seeping into their limbs like a heavy fog.
'I feel so tired… I'll think about this tomorrow…'
A yawn escaped them, tears clinging to the corners of their eyes.
The room blurred. The candlelight flickered.
And then—
A haze settled over their vision.
Not the dim glow of the candle, nor the familiar shadows of the room.
Gray. Vast. Endless.
For the briefest moment, they glimpsed something beyond reality—an endless expanse of gray fog, a silence too deep, too knowing.
And then—
A sound. Or perhaps… a memory.
No… a truth, just out of reach.
Half-written—
Their eyelids grew heavy. Their thoughts unraveled, dissolving like ink in water.
—Forgotten.
Their head slumped forward onto the desk.
The pendulum rested beside them.
Cold.
Waiting.
Swaying.
---
Author's Note
I changed Yeaia's pronouns to he/him in some scenes to improve readability, but Yeaia's gender remains neither male nor female.