Unwan sat eating his porridge with a hint of irritation tightening his jaw, wondering why no one liked him. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't physically weak, he had never hurt anyone on purpose, and he never talked back.
Yet no one, absolutely no one liked him.
'This is unfair… how can someone become 'bad' without ever doing anything wrong?'
He endured this injustice day after day, hoping today wouldn't be the day he finally exploded. Every night he considered running away from the orphanage, yet always gave up because he had no idea how he would survive the night outside. If he tried, the Night Creature would probably tear him apart.
Unwan tried to mutter his frustration under his breath, but the words came out louder than he intended.
— Instead of giving me food just to laugh at me, why don't you just dump me in the city? You'd finally have peace, you'd be happy, and you'd even save some food. Hah… 'not enough left', they say.
It sounded like a good idea. The city, compared to the orphanage's isolated grounds, was far safer; it was protected by summoned guardians from the grimoires.
But safety alone wouldn't be enough. He would still need water, food, a place to sleep, everything. Unwan had spoken without thinking, anger blinding any sense left in him.
The Unwan in his dream wore a confused expression. In real life, he remembered sitting quietly, keeping himself together. After the gatekeeper, no one had talked to him. That alone was strange. 'So… something really has changed.' the thought flickered in his mind.
Just then, one boy who overheard him finished chewing his meal, let out a small laugh, and asked:
— So what would you even do in the city? And besides… who'd want a nobody like you?
Unwan blinked, surprised. He didn't think anyone had heard him. But apparently his muttering had been loud enough. He wondered who asked the question, though not enough to actually look.
— At least I'd try to survive. Better than rotting here.
Some kids around him chuckled at the comment, and the boy who asked the question laughed the loudest. Unwan finally turned to look.
Of course. It was Keli. The boy laughed freely, mockingly, like Unwan existed solely for his entertainment.
After a few seconds, Keli finally spoke.
— Idiot. If you drop into the city, you gotta go to a Grimoire Libraries, genius.
'Grimoire Libraries? Why those?'
Unwan stared at him, ready to ask, but Keli swallowed a spoonful of soup and continued:
— Doesn't matter if you're an orphan, a killer's brat, or whoever, they help people like that. At least temporarily. Why do you think the kingdom funds them as Support Centers?
Unwan started thinking. Oddly enough, both his real self and his dream-self reached the same thought:
'Would they accept someone like me… someone nobody likes?'
It was a fair question.
'Just because the entire orphanage hates me doesn't mean the Grimoire Library will too… right?'
A tiny spark of hope warmed his chest, but Unwan didn't trust hope. Once, hope had kept him alive… but that didn't mean it would protect him next time.
While he was lost in thought, Keli grinned and added:
— Maybe you'll even get one of these, huh? Right, guys?
Keli pulled out his grimoire from his small bag and flashed it at Unwan. Some kids laughed, not loudly and not directly at Unwan, but others laughed loudly enough so that he could hear them.
Unwan only wanted to finish his porridge and get out.
He remembered failing to get a grimoire when many of others have gone to receive theirs. He often blamed himself for it.
Thankfully, he was good at calming his own mind.
'Hey, why blame yourself? Just because you didn't get one this year doesn't mean you never will. Who said you must get your grimoire as a child?'
That thought soothed him a little.
He stood, dropped off his dishes, and walked toward the door.
Clop… clop…
Suddenly, Unwan woke with a start.
He blinked, adjusting to the dim morning light. The sun had barely risen around an hour earlier, so that only the rooftops were touched by gold. The air was cool.
Down the avenue, a single carriage passed by. Even the horses moved as if deliberately trying to wake him up. They weren't, of course,but it felt like they were.
He cursed under his breath and looked around again.
The Mechanical guardian stood frozen in place. Only a few people were out, walking without giving him the slightest glance. Unwan looked down at himself.
He would've been happy, if the horses hadn't woken him. His whole body felt fine. Better than fine. The seven claw's wounds he had taken were gone, leaving no trace at all.
Only the torn parts of his clothes proved any of it had happened.
He touched his skin—smooth, intact.
He rolled his shoulders and tried a few movements; everything felt light and easy.
Oddly refreshing.
After fighting the Night Creature, he had been completely tired, and last night's rest didn't feel enough… But now his body felt reborn.
After a few minutes, he sat down and began analyzing his dream from beginning to end, comparing every detail to reality.
'Everything was the same… even the cup I left behind was there. The feather too—well, that was disposable anyway.'
Everything up till the dining hall scene matched perfectly. Except for that one change. A change may showed him a path.
Unwan kept thinking. The more he thought, the more the idea of going to the Grimoire Library made sense. Honestly, that place had everything: food, water, a bed, work opportunities, and even the chance to receive a grimoi…
Unwan tried to kill that hope, but it refused to die.
Finally, he murmured to himself:
— No. No hope for the grimoire. But I still need the rest. So… we go there.