"That's strange."
He looked down at his feet, the ones that were supposed to be healed a week later.
They looked pale and smooth, very much like his own skin.
"Very strange," He said, looking down.
Val took a step back, then a hesitant step forward, and again entered the room that smelled like freshly bloomed flowers of lavender.
It looks real.
He crouched down, grabbing himself by his ankle and tracing his finger around the bone.
It feels real.
"When did that happen?"
Standing up and looking out of his room, there was a short hallway and a closed window opposite his door through which the house was lit up.
He noticed a sea of murky clouds covering the sky, painting a stage for the wind to rummage through the forest.
Valentine snorted under his nose at how cold it was and turned to his right, where the hallway led to the exit.
"Sunday!"
A faint echo of his voice returned to him, barely noticeable, but enough to make him feel frustrated.
Of course, he didn't respond this time. Sigh. At least I'm not naked...
He thought while adjusting his dark blue boxers. He didn't know how they got there, and he would rather not find out any time soon.
The atmosphere was calm and cozy, with a somewhat warm feeling settling in the carpet beneath his feet.
Without a need to rush, he could calmly explore the things around the house, things like the little accessory plants placed around each corner or over the windowsill, polished wooden walls that had small carvings of the sun across them, and even paintings made by unknown artists that depicted groups of people praying.
Everything was small at first glance, but once he was caught up in the thrill of exploring Sunday's home, a good couple of minutes had passed before he finally found the living room.
He looked up from the warm carpet.
"Sunday?"
Calling out his name despite not getting a response; only the sight of unfamiliar belongings greeted his entrance.
Massaging his sore throat, he walked up to a coffee table in front of a dark-green sofa.
Something was lying on top of it, a sticky note of sorts with some words written on it.
Well, it wasn't just some words. In Valentine's eyes, it felt like a whole damn paragraph, which made his head hurt when looking at it.
He picked it up, reading it with his lips barely moving.
"To the fallen believer Valentine, whose treatment I was in charge of. I have completed the blessing and restored your body to its top condition. If you feel any discomfort inside your chest, please take the white pill I gave you as a gift. Of course, I will not stop you from selling it. But something tells me that eating it would bring you great fortune."
His brow rose. "Your belongings have been thoroughly sorted out, and I left everything I deemed worthy under this very table."
"Once again, may the goddesses' light never leave your side."
"Saint Sunday the sixth."
The note ended with him wishing well and a crude drawing of the sun, connected with wobbly lines that crumbled when Valentine crushed the note in his hands.
You know what, Sunday?
Gritting his teeth, he looked towards the closest window in front of him and hurled the paper ball at it, watching it drop on the floor beside him.
He picked it back up again, throwing it anywhere he was currently facing, just for it to slip from his grip and bounce off the table towards his feet.
Val clicked his tongue.
Piss off!
And kicked the paper ball back into the hallway he came from, watching it slowly disappear behind a corner.
"At least stay and explain things properly; I didn't think being old would mess up one's head this much!"
Val's voice reached no one, not that he expected it to after reacting like that.
No... I'm glad I don't have to see his damn face again, always scaring me to death with his towering build.
Despite complaining, he listened to the letter's contents and crouched down at the coffee table, noticing the familiar wooden box he was struggling to push.
Now, it felt as light as a feather.
Putting it down on the dark table with a thud, he didn't care to inspect what was inside, just immediately putting on the set of clothes that was folded inside it and stuffing the items filling it straight into his new pockets.
There wasn't much, but some things stood out.
For example, the outfit he wore without a thought, looking down at it, and letting out a shallow groan.
It looked exactly like the set of clothes Sunday wore every day, with a darker, ashy coat and baggier beige pants that didn't stretch over his skin, not that they could with him being as thin as Sunday's palm.
The black sweater felt unnaturally warm when paired with light-gray socks and a white T-shirt.
I can't express how much I missed wearing warm clothes; being covered with nothing but bandages is a feeling I wouldn't want to endure any longer. It also looks just like his set of clothes, but smaller... way smaller.
Sniffing his clothes and feeling relief at not smelling like a spilled bottle of beer, he pulled out the black pen Sunday repaired for him a few days ago, and the three different coins with a pill in between them.
He stashed the pen inside his back pocket and put the pill into one of his breast pockets.
Huh?
When he finished packing his pockets, he noticed a letter lying at the bottom of the box - a dated letter sealed with red wax; the kind he'd only ever seen behind thick glass and in historic films. Engraved on the wax was a perfectly balanced scale holding a human and a sun.
Is this for me?
Surprised, he took the letter that seemed to have something heavy inside it, and tore off the wax seal, dry wax almost sticking to his nails.
He opened the letter slowly as if not to rip the delicate paper; it cracked, still holding onto the remaining wax before snapping and opening instantly.
Another note?
He took out a rectangular note that matched the size of the letter and flipped it after noticing one side was covered in charred paint.
On it, just a few words with a date were written for him, with vibrant colors filling it to the edges.
The new generation of Fire...?
Val turned the card again, checking in case he missed something.
But there was only the other side, with the title being spelled in bright golden letters that glistened despite the lack of sunlight.
Seems legit. He thought while nodding.
Looking below the title, where the date was written, saying 'A month from now,' with an exclamation mark. The boy placed the card back inside its envelope, further hiding it inside his second breast pocket, the one on the left side of his chest.
I guess I can figure out what that letter is about when I find Sunday.
He looked around the cabin one last time, thinking of how nice it would have been to live here for a while longer and enjoy the nature surrounding it.
Memories that could have been made, memories that were already gone.
Looking around the filled but lonely interior, he thought of how long he'd been here waiting and doing nothing, only relying on Sunday.
It wasn't his home.
No, he didn't even know if it was his world in the first place.
For some strange reason, he appeared here and couldn't focus on anything but himself and his condition.
He couldn't talk to Sunday, who was talking about his faith and the goddess, nor to himself, thinking he might have gone insane by doing so.
But now, being healed and left alone...
The letter in his breast pocket felt heavier than before, guiding him to walk to the door and put on a pair of shoes that were conveniently left behind.
They fit him perfectly, sliding into them like through ice, boots that seemed suited for any terrain.
All right...
He looked back at the house, setting himself a goal for a distant future.
To become like Sunday, or get at least a house as nice as his.
Twist!
Cold wind greeted him, this time calmer and clearer than the last time he was out.
Gray clouds were rolling through the sky, covering its edges like a shallow sea. The sound of tree branches cracking reached his ears, making him look down and notice a path opening up towards a forest, looking as if made just for him.
A thin walking path was leading him towards the dark forest.
Something inside him was telling him that taking it would be the only right path he currently had.