Chapter 27: Square 22: The History Book Spanning Ten Centuries
I made it... finally... It had been just past noon when I left Elizabeth’s mansion. Glancing at my watch now, it was already closing in on 15:00. After that, weaving around sketchy back alleys, I’d drifted further and further off the map’s route. By the time I noticed, I’d been walking for nearly three hours straight. My legs were completely worn out.
"Nameplate, ...check. Windmill, ...check. Address, ...check."
The features matched Old Man Beard’s house exactly, no other building around here looked anything like it. If he wasn’t even home after all this, I’d probably just collapse to my knees in tears.
"Phew... Old Man Beard, you home?"
I knocked firmly on the door. A few seconds later, I heard footsteps coming down some stairs. A voice called out "coming," and the door opened right after.
"Oh, it’s you. I’ve been waiting."
"...Glad to see you’re doing well too."
"What happened, you look exhausted."
"Ah, well, it’s a bit of a story..."
He let me inside, and I finally got to sit down. I quenched my parched throat with some water, wiped away the sweat, and recounted the long, winding tale of my journey here. What I got in response was a hearty, lively burst of laughter.
"Hahaha! You walked the whole way!? Ah, youth really is something, hahahahaha!"
Not exactly a laughing matter from where I was sitting. Thinking that, I returned an awkward smile.
"Ah, sorry, sorry, I laughed a bit too much there. Guess you haven’t even figured out where to rent a carriage yet, being so new to this world."
Old Man Beard pulled something like a document out of his desk.
"Take this with you."
What he handed over was a letter of introduction, written on fine looking paper.
"A letter of introduction from the Kroev Merchant Guild?"
"Show that, and you can ride carriages at a heavily discounted rate. Become a proper member, and you can ride for free. Costs a small annual fee, though."
That sounded like quite the deal, honestly. Not that it mattered, but the referrer’s name column read "Old Man Beard." Was that really acceptable to write on an official document like this, instead of a real name?
"There’s a carriage station nearby too. Use that on your way back."
"Thank you. But are you sure this is okay?"
"Ah, this is about all I’ve got to offer you. Think of it like a permanent taxi discount coupon, feel free to use it freely."
That phrasing, that word "taxi." This had gone well past anything that could be casually explained away. I took a slow breath to steady myself and spoke quietly.
"I’ll ask you that question again, from before. Are you... a person from this world?"
At my question, Old Man Beard smiled gently and shook his head.
"I wasn’t born into this world. I was born on a planet called Earth, in a country called America. Just an unremarkable writer, that’s all I am."
Hearing those words, I fought desperately to hold back tears threatening to spill over.
"Finally... I finally get to meet someone in the same situation as me."
Once I’d finally calmed down, Old Man Beard brewed me a warm cup of milk tea.
"Ah, thank you."
"Must have been rough. There’s time. Let’s start talking once you’ve finished that."
Saying that, he went back to smoothly running his pen across what looked like a half finished manuscript. He must have noticed me staring, because he answered before I even asked.
"Ho ho, every world needs money to get by, no matter where you are. This is all I’ve had to work with, so I sell novels aimed at general audiences. I’m used to writing by hand, but I suppose young folks these days write this sort of thing on computers?"
"Yeah, or on phones. ...Mind if I take a look?"
I asked out of simple curiosity, and Old Man Beard said "go ahead" and pulled his chair back slightly. Peering into the space he’d made, I found a story unfolding about a heroic animal. The strong, confident prose pulled my eyes in almost against my will.
"...This is genuinely great. Easy enough for kids to follow, but not generic either. This reads like a textbook example of what to recommend to a general audience, and also..."
I found myself just saying what I thought, without any hesitation over the next words.
"Your Japanese is really solid too. You’d have to be seriously used to writing to pull that off in a foreign language."
The moment I finished saying it, it hit me. Why was this even in Japanese to begin with?
"Um... were you raised in Japan or something?"
"No, I’ve never even been to Japan. I can barely manage a greeting in Japanese."
That statement was nothing but contradiction. But Old Man Beard continued speaking as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"I speak English. And of course, from where I stand, you look like nothing more than an Asian man speaking fluent English."
"Huh?"
Without question, we were both speaking Japanese to each other right now. Old Man Beard’s expression didn’t look like he was lying at all.
"Everything here is skewed from the start. And skewed in an awfully convenient way, at that."
"...I don’t get any of this."
Any joy I’d felt from finally meeting someone like me was gone, replaced by a headache from trying to process this bizarre mystery. If it were just about language and text, I could’ve forced some kind of explanation, translation magic or something. But I pulled a single coin out of my pocket.
"Even Japanese yen working here is just for my convenience, then. So what, is my whole perception being warped somehow... By who, for what purpose, ...and how long does this go on for?"
As if answering my question, right as I started sinking into a mental swamp, Old Man Beard held out a book to me.
"I looked for the answer myself too. Never found it. But I might be able to give you a hint."
Old Man Beard set a dirty, brown tinged book down on the table. The cover read "Chronicles of Parrot." A history book of this world. The very book I’d searched for endlessly and eventually given up on.
"After all that searching, and it was here..."
"People in this world don’t seem too interested in their own past. Which is why history books like this are unusually rare. This one’s practically an antique, a genuinely valuable find."
Swallowing hard, I opened the worn out book with trembling hands. Skipping past the dense footnotes and preamble, packed with pointless overinterpretation, I kept reading. What was written there wasn’t about a nation. Let alone the world itself. ...It was about people.
The oldest recorded history dated back a thousand years. The legend of a single woman. Appearing suddenly in the world, she conjured one great spell after another in succession. Through her power, the world changed dramatically in a remarkably short span. Monsters that preyed on people vanished, every illness was cured, and nations were founded under her guidance. But eventually, she was killed by a monster said to be of her own creation.
Eight hundred years ago. A man descended suddenly onto the land. He was the strongest warrior, one who destroyed everything in his path. He tore down nations, broke apart seas, shattered the earth itself, and claimed everything for himself. But afterward, he developed the ageless disease. No one saw him again after that.
Four hundred years ago. A woman appeared from nowhere in particular. She carried herself like a goddess of mercy. A summoner beyond ordinary understanding, capable of manifesting any spirit imaginable. She single handedly faced down a massive dragon that had destroyed a nation, saving the world in the process. But the month after slaying the dragon, she vanished without a trace.
Two hundred years ago. An old man of great wisdom appeared in a certain kingdom. Without relying on grand spells, he faced down an army of monsters through wisdom alone. Right after a great war, he came down with the ageless disease.
Eighty years ago. A young man joined an adventurer’s guild. A prodigy in fire magic, his strength was something to behold. He rose to the top of the guild in no time at all. But this brave young man was ultimately struck down by a dragon.
I quietly closed the book. What came out of my mouth wasn’t a comment, just a plain, simple question.
"...What is this?"
"A history book."
A shadow crossed Old Man Beard’s expression. As if he were refusing to say it outright.
"...No, this is..."
I hesitated over whether to say it. I was afraid of having it confirmed. But I said it anyway. Quietly.
"Other people who’ve been reborn into this world?"
I looked at Old Man Beard’s face. His expression told me everything.
Which meant, in this world, there were at least six people who’d been reincarnated here, myself included.
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