We arrived at Veron Province…
Shortly before sunset.
The sky was a blend of orange, gold, and violet, like a masterpiece painted with painstaking care.
Its warm, fading light reflected off the city’s stone walls, making them appear as though they were glowing from within.
As if the city itself had been waiting for us.
But—
I didn’t have the energy to appreciate the view.
My body was exhausted in a way that went beyond ordinary fatigue.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
The long journey had left its mark on every muscle and every joint.
Even breathing felt tiring.
Fortunately—
Amy was beside me.
She confidently guided me through the winding streets.
Narrow stone roads branched and reconnected like a maze that would be impossible for a stranger to understand.
We moved away from the crowded, noisy city center and headed toward the quieter outskirts.
“There’s a good place.”
She said it casually, as though speaking of somewhere she knew well.
“A small inn.
Comfortable rooms, good food, and reasonable prices.”
I didn’t object.
I had no reason to.
In fact—
I had nothing.
No knowledge of this city.
No familiarity with its streets.
No understanding of its currency.
Not even the name of a single district.
When I told her that—
She stopped abruptly.
Then stared at me as if I had just said something that violated the laws of physics.
“You’re joking…
right?”
I quietly shook my head.
No.
I wasn’t joking.
The shock was obvious on her face for a moment.
But she didn’t hesitate.
She immediately slipped into a firm, instructional tone.
“There are four main currencies in this world.”
She raised her hand and counted on her fingers.
“Tin.
Copper.
Silver.
And gold.”
“One gold coin equals ten silver coins.
One silver coin equals ten copper coins.
One copper coin equals ten tin coins.”
I listened silently, trying to organize the numbers in my head.
Then she continued.
“A loaf of bread?
Two tin coins.”
Two copper coins.”
“With a meal?
Three copper.”
I slowly nodded.
A simple system.
But an important one.
And only then—
Did something occur to me.
War…
Was terrifyingly profitable.
The ten silver coins sitting in my pouch were enough to live on for months.
And how many people died for that money?
Before long, we arrived.
A modest inn stood near the edge of the province.
A two-story stone building with small windows overlooking the narrow street.
Warm orange light spilled from those windows, accompanied by faint laughter and conversation from inside.
The aroma of food cooked not long ago drifted through the cracks around the door.
We stepped inside.
And were greeted by a woman.
She appeared to be middle-aged.
Her features were calm, yet carried the kind of wisdom that only experience could provide.
Dark hair streaked with gray was tied back with a simple cord.
There was weariness in her eyes.
But she wore it well.
“Sarah.”
Amy whispered as she greeted the woman with a familiar nod.
“The owner.”
I later learned that her husband had died at a young age, leaving the inn to her.
She managed the entire place alone.
That couldn’t have been easy.
Amy stepped forward confidently.
“Two rooms, and a good dinner, Sarah.”
The woman smiled warmly.
“Three copper coins per person.”
We paid without hesitation.
Then chose a table in a quiet corner.
I sat down.
And finally—
I felt something close to relief.
Something real.
A body beginning to unwind.
Tension slowly dissolving.
Amy, on the other hand, was full of energy.
“Her food is amazing!
You’ll understand in a minute!”
She continued praising the inn and its meals with details I didn’t yet understand.
I didn’t argue.
It wasn’t long before the food arrived.
Two bowls of soup.
Rich.
Steam rose from them, carrying an aroma so inviting that my stomach immediately awakened.
Fresh vegetables floated among tender chunks of meat.
A layer of melted cheese rested on top, still warm.
Two loaves of bread sat beside the bowls.
Soft in the middle.
I picked up my spoon.
And took a taste.
Silence.
Warmth spread through my throat and chest.
A real flavor.
The kind of flavor that made you feel someone had put genuine thought and care into creating it.
Then a bite of bread.
Soft.
Warm.
Delicious.
So delicious that—
You forgot everything.
So delicious that—
You could sleep without a single worry.
It didn’t take long.
We finished our meal with barely a word exchanged.
Just exhaustion.
Relief.
And a comfortable silence.
Afterward—
We parted ways.
Each of us heading to our own room.
I entered mine.
A simple room.
A wooden bed stuffed with cloth padding.
A small window overlooking the dark street outside.
I closed the door.
Then looked at the bed.
As if it were the greatest treasure in the world.
I collapsed onto it without resistance.
My body surrendered immediately.
My consciousness began to fade.
Before I could even think—
About anything else.
Before I could ask:
Who am I?
What was I?
What will I become?
Sleep came.
Quiet.
Heavy.
Merciful.
And for the first time since I had awakened in those green meadows with no memories and no name beyond a single word—
I slept…
At peace.